Reading in the 24th Century

There's a Star Trek: The Next Generation episode ("The Neutral Zone," 5/16/1988) in which Captain Picard and his minions come upon and subsequently revive a number of 20th-century earthlings who were cryogenically frozen hundreds of years before and shot into space. One of the newly defrosted is a loutish former financier who is immediately concerned about the current state of his once sizeable portfolio. When he discovers the truth he's in a panic. "There's no trace of my money--my office is gone--what will I do?" Picard informs him that in the 24th century "material needs no longer exist": "People are no longer obsessed with the accumulation of 'things'. We have eliminated hunger, want, the need for possessions. We have grown out of our infancy."

Hold that thought.

This is an unusual post for me here at book-blog.com. With the exception of a handful of author interviews and the occasional announcement, I've kept the book-blog a pure book review site--unlike most lit blogs, which tend to mix reviews with news and other commentary, and for better or worse. But Jeffery Anderson of FSB Associates invited me to be a guest blogger at the online book fair FSB is hosting this week (a three-day event in which scads of book-shaped prizes are being handed out like candy), so I determined to write up something about my history with book blogging, including what it could possibly have to do with Jean-Luc Picard.

I started book-blog.com in mid-2003 more or less on a whim. Two interests converged: I wanted to experiment with this new blogging thing I'd been hearing about, and I wanted to try recording my thoughts about the books I was reading, because my responses to them seemed to leave my head the moment I opened a new book. At the same time, I'd just read Richard Russo's fantastically funny academic novel Straight Man, and I was moved to write a review of it. My first review; my first five-star book; my first blog. Since then, as of this writing, there've been another 244 reviews, another 5 (if I remember right) blogs (of varying importance, but only the deblog is as near to my heart as the book-blog), and, happily, a lot more five-star books enjoyed. Believe me when I tell you that I had no idea how central blogging would become to my life that first day when I whipped up a Blogger blog, how many hundreds of hours I'd spend tinkering with HTML and CSS, and how it would affect my reading life.

I read more now, for one thing, than I used to, in part because my reading progress is now publicly observable and I have enough Lisa Simpson in me that I want to be seen to be productive. (Grade me!) But I also feel beholden to the authors and publicists who have, over the years, become the suppliers to my book addiction: beholden, mind you, not to write positive reviews, but simply to get around to the books I've expressed interest in reading before too much time has passed. This is becoming increasingly difficult--the books in the TBR stacks have begun procreating (see picture), I'm pretty sure--but it's a delicious difficulty.

But there's been a curious and unexpected second result of my book blogging, which will get us back presently to Star Trek. I used to be--up until perhaps 18 months ago--the sort of person who squirreled my books away. I wanted ultimately to be surrounded on all sides by books that I'd read, the digested evidence of my noble hobby. There are practical reasons to want to keep one's books, of course: some you may want to read again; reference books and academic books obviously may need to be turned to repeatedly, indefinitely; and even in youth I had this idea that my children, when I had them, might well have the same tastes in literature that I do and so would want to pore through my stacks. But there are practical reasons not to keep one's books as well. As my mailman can attest, the number of books coming into the house has grown exponentially since I started blogging. Shelf space is a problem. So it's become, if not absolutely necessary, certainly advisable to start getting rid of books. The surprising thing is, I no longer mind parting with them.

I've now had the children whose reading lives I'd so long been anticipating, and it's occurred to me that when they do start reading "adult" literature they'll probably eschew the yellow-paged volumes I have to offer in favor of books they choose for themselves. And why shouldn't they? And it's occurred to me that there are very few books in the non-academic, pleasure-reading shelves in my study that I'm ever going to read again, or that I have formed any strong emotional attachment to. But here's the kicker: I no longer feel that I need to keep the books I've read as a testament to my having read them. Like Jean-Luc, I am no longer obsessed with the accumulation of things. Having read them and--this is the important part--having blogged my reaction to them (and, frankly, having registered their appearance on the shelves of my LibraryThing account), I feel like I've come to "own" the books in my possession in a more important sense. Their continued physical presence on my bookshelves isn't necessary.

At the same time, my conception of my personal library--to use a grand term--has likewise changed. Instead of it being an ever-expanding collection of increasingly moldering volumes, I now think of my stacks as being in continual flux. Books come in, books go out. Panta rei. But before my books continue their useful lives in someone else's clutches, I get to make them my own simply by enjoying them.

Tags: book fair, books, bookshelves, FSB Associates, online book fair

Comments

[Maxine]

Very interesting post, Debra. I had this experience with my children, of passing on ancient yellowed volumes I'd loved as a child, only to have all the pages fall out or the child be uninterested becuase the print was too small or the pages too smelly.
I have given away hundreds (literally) of books over the years, to charity shops, libraries and hosptials. I have kept my books to a minimum of what will fit in the (many) bookshelves in my house or some in the attic. Interestingly, though, the "attic" category is never read, it is too inaccessible, and I am thinking of just giving away the lot (first bookmarking them on Amazon or Library Thing), liberated by the "long tail" of out-of-print books on the Internet.
I did enjoy reading your post.

[Debra Hamel]

I'm still amazed at how dramatic my about-face has been on this subject. I really hated the idea of getting rid of books before. I actively regretted not owning some of the books I read in a great bunch when I was 16--Hermann Hesse and John Fowles largely. The writing about them really makes a difference.

I'm glad to hear about the experience with your children, since it confirms me in this!

[The Egret's Nest]

I moved thousands of books five years ago and then decided that I really needed to downscale my books. I kept only the books that I want to re-read (I'm a re-reader! :). I have a reasonable amount now that I am keeping and I know that in a few years I'll be able to cull that group down again. I have kept some books from childhood that I am passing along to my children -- and they are loving them. And we have a few shelves of books that we simply must keep -- important reference books that no one ever looks at and coffee table books. I do think that books should be passed on and shared and regularly release books through BookCrossing which is a fun way to do it. I feel way more in control this way. My kids like it too. We just went through their shelves and got rid of baby books that they won't read again and kept a few treasured wonderful books and organized the rest. And, what do you know . . . they are reading more now because they can find what they want! :) Just some rambling on the topic.

[Debra Hamel]

Thanks for the rambling! I very much like the idea of BookCrossing, but the few times I tried it absolutely nothing came of it. It felt like throwing my books away, because I couldn't be sure that that wasn't exactly what I was doing.

Anyway, thanks for the note, and thanks for blogging about BAFAB! And I'm glad you found LibraryThing, too: it's a wonderful application.

[Philip Weiss]

Perhaps I'll someday reach the same point, but I doubt it. Other than about 25 very dear books, I doubt I'd be too freaked out if they disappeared in a fire or were I to be resuscitated in the Picard future. One thing I really enjoy is when a visitor to my apartment peruses my shelves and wants to "borrow" a book. I can tell them what I thought of the book and they can then take the book and decide for themselves. Other than those 25 or so dear books, the rest are there for the picking. But unless a book is awful or someone wants it, it'll stay in my library.

[Debra Hamel]

I like lending out books too. I have a couple friends who regularly come over to whisk away stacks of books. I like the idea that they're having a continued, useful life after I read them.