Book Pile Status

(This is taking the place of a Small Success post for the week.)

I've already shown that I have too many books.  The pile pictured there has actually grown a little bit, as I've realized that my initial trip around the room only included the shelves where I knew there were many unread books.  I forgot that my poetry shelf included Beowulf or that Watership Downs was residing on my bookcase of kid's books, for example.

Anyway, I've read 4 books from the pile since I posted that picture.  They are Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, The Memory of Earth by Orson Scott Card, The Girl Who Heard Dragons by Anne McCaffrey, and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson.  I greatly enjoyed all of them.   

In the past I've been asked, as a science fiction fan, whether I've read Brave New World, and I've had to ashamedly answer in the negative.  Finally, I've read it.  It's chilling in the way that the best futuristic works are - like Bradbury and Orwell, Huxley shows an extreme future in order to illustrate something about the present.  In this case, the importance of complex, critical thought and the power of societal pressure. 

The Memory of Earth is the beginning of Card's Homecoming series, the story of humankind's descendants on another planet.  The idea is that 30 million years prior to the story, the last remnants of Earth's residents settled new worlds.  To prevent the type of destructive wars that were apparently the end of civilization on Earth, a protective computer system called the Oversoul was set up over the planet Harmony.  The Oversoul prevents them from creating any type of technology that speeds travel (like wheeled carts) or that would be considered a large-scale weapon.  But the Oversoul is starting to fail... The book raises some interesting questions about belief and the practice of religion, since the Oversoul is the god of the people of Harmony.

The Girl Who Heard Dragons is actually a short story collection.  The first story, with the same name as the collection, takes place in the Dragonriders of Pern 'verse.  Most of the others take place in a space-faring universe that's probably related to McCaffrey's other books, but I've only read the Pern novels.  My favorite story was "The Greatest Love", a story written in 1956 about a fictional first attempt at human IVF.  Aside from getting to drive T crazy with my questions about the medical terminology (she's a pre-med student), I enjoyed the twists and turns and stumbling blocks encountered by the characters as they pushed forward with the procedure.  Since I started this book the day after I finished The Memory of Earth, I also enjoyed the juxtaposition of styles between Card, a Mormon, and McCaffrey, who seems quite to distrust the religious establishments of the world. 

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde shouldn't need an introduction, really.  I'm disappointed in myself for never reading it before now, since I've known the basic premise since early childhood.  The story, however, did not disappoint.  It chilled and horrified while at the same time examining the way one man dealt with his darker side.  Given the recent release of the Avengers (I haven't seen any of the individual Hulk films), I also saw the parallels between Drs. Jekyll and Banner and each man's success (or lack thereof) in controlling the beast within him.

In addition to those, I reread Neil Gaiman's American Gods back in May and I just finished rereading The Hobbit in preparation for the first film this December.  I'm also halfway through a book called The Four Percent Universe, which was a graduation gift.  It's a nonfiction book about cosmology, which is the study of the large scale universe: its structure, its origins, and what it's made of.

Dealing with Pack-Rat Tendencies

I've noticed that I hold onto things for one of two reasons.  Either the items were important to me at some point and/or I think I might use them "someday".  Both sources of attachment make it hard for me to just throw things into a bag for goodwill, and the stuff just takes up otherwise-useful space.  If I'm really attached to something, I have to convince myself that someone else needs or will use the item more than I will.  There's really 2 methods I have to force myself to get rid of stuff when I just can't let go.

1. Give them to someone specific
This way, things I once loved don't float anonymously off into the donation bin.  I know where they're going and I can pick "good homes" with people I know will enjoy them. (Yes, I'm aware this comes across as a little neurotic).

One example: my collection of Dragonlance books.  I was really into the series in middle school and early high school, and I had worked hard to collect about 20 of the books over a few years of used books stores/sales.  By college, though, I had mostly stopped reading them, except for briefly introducing a friend to the series at the end of sophomore year.  I knew I wasn't going to read them again, but I couldn't bring myself to donate them after working so hard to get my set together. 

Solution? Email my friend and ask him if he would take the books off my hands. He gladly accepted the new reading material, and I freed up a shelf.


2. Have someone else tell me to get rid of them
Sometimes I just need another voice telling me that it will be okay.  Little sister usually fills this job remarkably well.  During a cleaning session last week, I made a small pile of guilt-laden items, and then called her in to ask her what I should do.  I wanted some old Winnie the Pooh bags (a duffel and a backpack) out of my closet, so that I could have more storage space.  But those bags were my trademarks for a lot of my childhood.  I felt really guilty letting them go.  So T verbally hit me on the head and told me to donate them.  And that was enough. 

Too Many Books

In trying to get ready to move out of my parents' house this summer, I'm being confronted by all the stuff I've accumulated and the wasteful behaviors I've acquired in the last twenty two years. Big area of weakness: my book collection.

I've always loved to read.  My family frequently gave me books for my birthday and Christmas.  Whenever I had money, I bought books, new or used.  My high school hosted a huge used book sale every year.  My book collection grew and grew and grew.  As I grew up, I took more and more pride in how many books I had.

The problem is that I wasn't reading all of the books.  I read a lot of them, but a fair number just sat there.  I didn't have as much time to read as I once had.  I bought books I thought I "should" read.  I bought many books at once, and I would only read one or two before my interest moved on.  I always meant to go back and read the rest.  Sometimes I did.  Sometimes I didn't.

Which leads me to this pile, containing (almost) all of the books in my room that I haven't yet read.  This pile represents wasted money (mine and my family's) and wasted good intention.  I've had some of these books for seven or eight years without reading them.

I've given myself the summer to read as many as I can.  If I read a book, I can keep it.  At the end of the summer, I'll pick 3-5 books that I still intend to read, and I'll donate everything else.  That step will hurt, and I'm dreading it.  I like having stuff.  I like having books around "just in case" I want to read them someday.  But more than that, I want to appreciate the books I've read and love.  The majority of the books above are readily available in bookstores and libraries.  If I want to read them someday, I can get them again.  It's time for me to let these books go.