Treasures

I am not the type of person who, when wondering what to read next, peruses the book tables at Costco and buys the latest bestseller. First off, I don't wonder what to read next...that's what Goodreads is for. And second, I don't buy books without having read (and loved) them first...that's what the library is for.

The acquirement of books has been on my mind for two reasons (it seems my thoughts are running in twos today): first, exciting announcement, we're moving next month(!), and the new home has two full walls of built-in bookcases, and second, like I said in the previous post, I'm in Colorado visiting my parents, and they have a couple of rooms filled with books.

As I've tried to decide what will occupy all that space (referring back to the home we're moving into...let us not gloss over that all-important word, moving), I have been spending a lot of time in my parents' attic looking over their 50+ years of accumulated books.

I think you would describe both the bookshelves and the content on the shelves as eclectic. My parents' only requirement for book content is that it must be in line with our family values; other than that, anything goes, and so there are long-standing classics that sit right next to self-published failures. There are books from my mom's childhood, and even ones originally owned by my grandma and great-grandma. There are books that were purchased hot off the press and others worn and tattered from garage sales.

I always have a mixed reaction when I look over my parents' books. My first thought is always, Why are they keeping all these books? Has anyone ever read them? Will anyone ever read them? They're just cluttering up perfectly good shelves. Take this shelf, for example:

This shelf is comprised almost entirely of books my mom purchased many years ago (maybe even before I was born?) at a library book sale. Titles range from Caroline and Her Kettle Named Maud by Miriam E. Mason to Linda's Homecoming by Phyllis A. Whitney. Question: Have I ever read any of these books? Answer: No (although as I was preparing this post, I realized that there actually were some real gems among the old bindings, but of course they were not appealing in any way to a 10-year-old me). It  makes me a little sad to look over some of these titles and to think about the authors who wrote them, maybe imagining great success, but instead they're long forgotten and out of print and the only copies that remain are wedged onto my parents' attic bookshelves.

My second reaction (did you think I wasn't going to mention my other thought? I wouldn't have forgotten...I'm thinking in pairs today, remember?) when I look at all of my parents' books is, Oh, I remember that book! I wonder why I liked it so much? What a weird title...what could this even be about? Oooh, I don't think I've ever seen this one before, and before I know it, I've wasted a big chunk of time lost in the variety and the memories. For example:

Here is a collection of books my mom owned as a teenager. In all of her books, she would write her name, the date she received it, and how she came to own it. In The Key Above the Door, she wrote, "Bonnie Jones. Gave to me by Grandma. Was once hers. Oct. 4, 1970." Isn't that cool? A little piece of history right there. And then look at the cover for Sorority Girl! If you want to take an authentic step into the 50's, read that one. It might not be timeless, but there's something special about reading the time period not as historical fiction but as actually being written in the 50's. And then there's Fifteen by Beverly Cleary. I read that book when I was probably fifteen myself, and I loved it so much. I could have died with giddiness when Stan gives Jane his identification bracelet. And I don't know that I ever would have picked it up if it hadn't been sitting on our bookshelves.

I have dreamed of having my own library ever since I was a little girl: a well-lit room with comfortable chairs and pillows, big windows (at least one of which will be a bay window with a window seat), soft lamps, and walls of bookshelves filled with the very best in literature (very idealized, I know; I'm sure I'll become more original if it ever looks like it might become a reality).

When I say "the best in literature," I am not referring solely to the classics (though beautifully bound editions of Jane Eyre and A Tale of Two Cities will definitely hold their own honored places). To me, "the best in literature" is something that I will read more than once, something that I will share or read with my children, something that I will make reference to over the years, and something that has passages I savor and remember long after the book is closed. Those are the books I want occupying my shelves.

Would all of my parents' books pass that test? No, not by a long shot. Like I said, that's what the library is for. But am I irritated with my parents for keeping all the books they have? No...but...I used to be; I wanted to go through and purge all of those bookshelves and leave them with a nice little stack of treasures. But I've changed. Not completely. But enough to realize that this kind of book collecting can be special too.

And after all, isn't it more fun to dig for treasure than to just have it placed in your lap?