Thursday, June 4, 2009

Confessions of a bibliophile...


In every room of our home there are shelves lined with books. It is a collection that continues to grow and represents a lifetime of a love affair with books. There are easily thousands of books; I counted them once. But as I sat one Sunday morning, enjoying a mug of peppermint tea, I began to wonder. I wondered how many hours were spent writing the millions of words in the books that line the shelves in our home. Hundreds of hours, easily; thousands, certainly. Millions? Perhaps. How much time was spent dreaming, scheming, plotting, sketching, writing, re-writing, editing, and reading? Certainly writing a book is a labour of love.

The books that line our shelves tell many stories… some true, some imaginary. The books also tell the story of our life- first separate and then together. Collectively, our books have become mingled and are nicely no longer ‘yours’ or ‘mine’; they are ‘ours’. What a wonderful transition. They tell of our interests, our passions, our wonderings, and our longings. They represent the many stages of our lives and give us a visual inventory of the many things that have crossed our minds. Our interests are diverse yet the books have sparked many hours of intriguing discussion and respectful debate.

There are the books about travel… when I had a wanderlust for countries other than my own. There are books of adventure… for the armchair mountain climbing enthusiast I had become. There are books on science and nature… to fulfill my curiosity of the world around me, at the microscopic and macroscopic level. Quantum physics and string theory are fascinating topics and sit proudly on the shelves, right next to the philosophical tomes pondering the reason for all things. There are books about stars and the cosmos; books about men who were imprisoned for their ideals and books about how the Flat Earth Society fell from grace.

There are books about God, books about the afterlife, about angels, about prayer, about civilization long before Jesus was born. There are even some bibles. There are bibles in English and Russian; there is even an illustrated Children’s Bible. Depending on my mood, I can revel in the formal beauty of the King James Version, or I can read the lessons in the New International Version language, which is more informal and quite contemporary. There are encyclopaedias about life in biblical times, books about biblical geography; a biography of Sarah, and one of Moses. The collection of these books reads more like a bibliography held by a religious scholar than for a curious reader who was encouraged to not get involved in religion when growing up.

There are books about pyramids and the magical number Pi. There are tales of wonder and beauty… from the Great Wonders of the World, to the Illuminated Book of Kells. Books of calligraphy are shelved near books on the Japanese art of origami. There are books of fairy tales, tall tales, folk tales, and an Encyclopaedia of Imaginary Places! Ghost stories from modern times and from Victorian times reside there; as do stories of science fiction from the 1930’s. Horror is there also, juxtaposed by stories of true crime. Sometimes what is fiction and what is fact are not as clearly drawn as real and imaginary characters are capable of things beyond our wildest imaginings.

On the shelves are books that will tell you how to make money and invest it. Books that tell what trends are coming and books that tell us how to simplify and give up what the mass marketing gurus have convinced us to buy. Keep it Simple, and Simple Abundance reminds us of how little we really need. When we have had enough of the fast-paced, hectic world, we can stop and read stories that are like old-fashioned chicken soup; these stories offer a cup of comfort and nourishment for the soul.

When we feel like it, we can go back in history and read famous letters and speeches. We can read treatises from some of the world’s most powerful leaders and the greatest cowards. We can glimpse into the past through a biography of a young girl who remained hidden within the walls of a neighbours home while she blossomed into a young woman, only to be betrayed and then die before her freedom was granted. We can cheer for the troops as we read about their bittersweet homecoming. They were glad to be home while at the same time heartbroken that they were forced to bury their comrades on foreign soil. They remind us of the beautiful feeling of the warmth and comfort a woman’s body can give when held pressed close while fighting off the cold sweats that come with the nightmares as they are haunted by the memory of those they left behind. There is wisdom in the written word shared by a woman who learned the ways of the world, who shares the richness of her experience through eyes that could not see and ears that could not hear.

There are books of poems and sonnets and plays. They are filled with words written to give our hearts a voice. There are words to describe the indescribable: joy, sorrow, hunger, pain, longing and lust. Heavy words of leaden moments offer searing truth. Other words of ethereal gossamer encourage our imaginations to drift to places as gentle as the mists that cling to the craggy mountain-tops in an imaginary land, free to ebb and flow on the currents of the winds of imagination. There are alliterations and illusions, tricks of imagery and sorcery to take us beyond the everyday mundane to places of dizzying heights and then safely back down again.

There are books that can tell us how to make things and fix things, how to buy things, and how to sell things. Some of these books give us the history of everyday things, and there are even books that explain seemingly unexplainable things. Miles of lists and piles of trivia keep us entertained and give interesting glimpses into the biggest, the tallest, the largest, the smallest, the oldest, the youngest of any person, place, or thing. These books contain the most obscure, and useless facts which have been painstakingly researched, organized, and catalogued.

Some books show us how to improve on our hobbies, chock full of creative ideas and interesting perspectives on topics ranging from gambling on cards and horses, to how to deconstruct a massive crossword puzzle, to how to string beads and knit fabric. We have spent many happy hours reading about our favourite activities which bring a greater sense of satisfaction to our everyday lives.

These many books have been collected over the decades, both before and since our lives came together. They are now a record of us. We have spent time browsing through dusty, disorganized bookstores, seeking treasures in the wildest places. We have also browsed through bookstores that are neatly organized, like ‘used-book libraries’, so meticulous and lovingly have the owners paid homage to the written word. We have had the good fortune to travel to bookstores across the country, in big and small towns, always finding something that we just had to bring home and add to our personal library.

The books we have collected have now become part of our family… our own little library we visit time and time again. They are lined up on the shelves, ready to share their riches. They keep us company on cold winter nights with topics for warm conversation as a perfect accompaniment to a whiskey served neat and a gently puffed pipe. The hours spent writing them are given back ten-fold by the hours we spend enjoying them.
Without them our lives would somehow be very empty indeed.

No comments: