On the keeping of books

My wife and I recently had to purchase a new furnace for the house. This meant getting in the attic, which ordinarily wouldn't be a problem since we have walk-in access to it, save for one thing: my wife and I are packrats. My wife reminds me from time to time that it is a good thing that we are both packrats, contrary to what playwrights might tell you. All this to say that our attic needed a little organizing before the HVAC folks could safely move about the cabin. It wasn't a lot of fun, not only because of all the lifting and moving of boxes. I think the fundamental problem for any packrat is simply getting past the paralysis of knowing what to throw away. Call it "letting go" if it makes you feel better, but the problem remains.

The good news is that, having moved past the attic (not that we're done with it, but baby steps, baby steps), we're now actually considering other parts of the house, including our biggest accumulation: books. A couple of weeks ago I donated seven boxes of books to the library. (They accept donations at the main branch; I don't know about other branches.) Now I know what you're saying: seven boxes? big deal! Here's the deal: these were just the boxes in my garage, where they have been stored since we moved into the house... in 1999. Since then we've donated another 8 or so boxes, and I already have another 3 -5 boxes lined up. You're probably saying, "Ummm, you're donating to the library..... why not borrow from the library, too, and save yourself the trouble?" Well, first things first, as we still have the equivalent of 8 bookcases left to go. It's still a troublesome task. I look at a book and ask myself, "Am I ever going to read this book again?" I think my biggest problem is simply that I lie to myself and say, "Sure, I'll read it again." Another problem, though, is that, at least with respect to books, I am sentimental. When I look at a book, I don't just see the text; I usually remember when I bought it, where, and why. I remember reading it. You would think something so special would invoke a desire to share it with the world, but til now it's been harder than I thought it would be.

Right now I don't have a goal in mind, so I don't know when I'll be finished. Maybe I'll be done when I just can't get rid of any of the books I have left. I already know I have a few I'll keep, certainly more for the memories they invoke than the certainty that I will read them again:

• a couple of books inscribed by friends,
• a set of Tom Apostol's Calculus Volumes signed by Paul Erdos,
• a book autographed by an author friend,
• A signed uncorrected proof of Unattainable Earth by Czeslaw Milosz, and an autographed copy of his The Captive Mind.

For now, back to the shelves.