Keeping Books

I've written frequently here about our love of books and reading, and about the trials and tribulations of having to store the thousands of books we own. No matter how often I cull through the books stacked everywhere in the house, no matter how many boxes of books I donate to the local library, no matter how many books I loan or give away to friends, the total number never seems to go down. Just as nature abhors a vacuum, so do our shelves abhor empty spaces - an open slot on a shelf cries out for the purchase of another book to fill it ... two, if they're thin enough. The possession of large numbers of books leads inexorably to many serious questions for a dedicated reader: How do you store your books? How do you sort them? How do you arrange them so you can find the one you want to read or refer to again? How do you decide what to keep and what to turn loose when the space runs out?

Last month I read a review in the Washington Post Book World that promised the answer to those awful questions ... or, at least, a pleasant discussion of them. Of course, it involved the purchase of yet another book, but it's one that I can strongly recommend to each of you who is also a Dedicated Reader.

The Library at Night by Alberto Manguel is a wonderful collection of essays on libraries and the collection, care, sorting, and reading of books. This review by Michael Dirda captures the magic of a book that will entertain, instruct, and delight all lovers of good books everywhere.

The book is divided into fifteen essays of varying length that look at the various functions, uses, and arrangements of libraries; they include: The Library as Order, Space, Power, Shape, Survival, and - my favorite - The Library as Workshop. Mr Manguel describes the study, the working space of a personal library, "not (as) a pared-down version of the larger structure - the library - which sometimes contains it. It has a different mission: it provides a practical space for self-reflection and conceit, for belief in the power of objects and reliance on the authority of a dictionary." He goes on later to note that, "A study lends its owner, the privileged reader, what Seneca called euthymia, a Greek word which Seneca explained means 'well-being of the soul' ... Every study aspires to euthymia. Euthymia, memory without distraction, the intimacy of a reading time - a secret period in the communal day - that is what we seek in a private reading space."

It makes me think ever more fondly of the poor, cluttered, messy (and yet cozy and comfortable) study where I crank out this blog every day.

If you are interested in books, reading, and libraries, I encourage you to read The Library at Night. While all of the essays may not be of equal interest, the overall delight of the book and of Mr Manguel's flowing prose make it a grand investment of time spent in thoughtful reading. Particularly in the library. Or the study. At night.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo