Trophies, ISBNs, and H.D.
Apr. 16th, 2004 09:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sun_set_bravelyI'm still working on the YMOYL project of inventorying everything I own. I'm about 3/4 of the way through my room right now, and I'm having a terrific time, which might sound strange considering the task. But because I'm moving so soon, it feels good to look at everything I have and truly assess whether or not I need to keep it all.
Last night I sat down on my bed and looked at my big bookshelf. I realized the reason that I kept many of the books I've read (especially from college): they serve as trophies, kind of. I keep them so I remember that I read that book. But that's no reason to hold on to them. So I thought for a minute, and came up with a solution. I copied down the ISBN numbers of each book on my shelf, so now I have a list of every book I own (not counting the books still at my mom's house). It's extreme, yes, but it serves several purposes: my list-happy self now has a partial list of the books I've owned in my life, I have the list for insurance purposes, and I don't have to wonder anymore, "Do I own that book?"
The intended effect of this list-making was achieved: I found it much easier to let go of books that I've had for years, but will never read. There are some good ones in there: Emily Dickinson's Collected Works, Sylvia Plath's Selected Works, Indonesian Poetry from 1966-1995. I've kept these for so long because I think, "I should be interested in these authors. I should have read this by now." But now that they're catalogued on my list of "Books That Have Passed Through My Life", I can release them in good conscience, knowing that I tried. More importantly, I can release the anxiety of Not Being Smart/Well Read/Curious Enough. Fuck it. If I ever want to find that one Emily Dickinson poem, I'll go to the library. It's just not worth it to lug around these books just to falsely edify my intellect. Also, I might make a few bucks selling them. Of course, I now wish I hadn't put my name in so many of them -- my mother's post-divorce advice sank too deeply into my head: "Label your books! I lost some good ones in the divorce!"
So with that energy released, I'm on to the rest of my bedroom, and then I do the other miscellaneous places in this apartment where I hoard things.
~ ~ ~
Ah yes, H.D. I forgot that she was up in the title.
One of the books I'm selling is her "Trilogy". I plodded through this book of poetry during the summer of 2001, when I was taking the old red-car 4 or 5 trains from Atlantic Avenue to my new job at 33rd Street. The three long poems in this collection are thick with the impact of World War II. At the time, I read it mostly as an intellectual exercise, though I found myself suddenly remembering lines from this collection after the September of that year.
This is a case in point -- even though I didn't love her poetry, I kept this book for so long because I wanted the reminder of my accomplishment of reading the entire thing. It also served a sentimental placeholder that reminded me of that sweltering summer of depression and transition.
Now it's time to release it, and luckily, I dog-eared the pages of the few poems that truly spoke to me. So the next post will be full of those poems, so I can keep them, and then release the book to a future owner.
Last night I sat down on my bed and looked at my big bookshelf. I realized the reason that I kept many of the books I've read (especially from college): they serve as trophies, kind of. I keep them so I remember that I read that book. But that's no reason to hold on to them. So I thought for a minute, and came up with a solution. I copied down the ISBN numbers of each book on my shelf, so now I have a list of every book I own (not counting the books still at my mom's house). It's extreme, yes, but it serves several purposes: my list-happy self now has a partial list of the books I've owned in my life, I have the list for insurance purposes, and I don't have to wonder anymore, "Do I own that book?"
The intended effect of this list-making was achieved: I found it much easier to let go of books that I've had for years, but will never read. There are some good ones in there: Emily Dickinson's Collected Works, Sylvia Plath's Selected Works, Indonesian Poetry from 1966-1995. I've kept these for so long because I think, "I should be interested in these authors. I should have read this by now." But now that they're catalogued on my list of "Books That Have Passed Through My Life", I can release them in good conscience, knowing that I tried. More importantly, I can release the anxiety of Not Being Smart/Well Read/Curious Enough. Fuck it. If I ever want to find that one Emily Dickinson poem, I'll go to the library. It's just not worth it to lug around these books just to falsely edify my intellect. Also, I might make a few bucks selling them. Of course, I now wish I hadn't put my name in so many of them -- my mother's post-divorce advice sank too deeply into my head: "Label your books! I lost some good ones in the divorce!"
So with that energy released, I'm on to the rest of my bedroom, and then I do the other miscellaneous places in this apartment where I hoard things.
~ ~ ~
Ah yes, H.D. I forgot that she was up in the title.
One of the books I'm selling is her "Trilogy". I plodded through this book of poetry during the summer of 2001, when I was taking the old red-car 4 or 5 trains from Atlantic Avenue to my new job at 33rd Street. The three long poems in this collection are thick with the impact of World War II. At the time, I read it mostly as an intellectual exercise, though I found myself suddenly remembering lines from this collection after the September of that year.
This is a case in point -- even though I didn't love her poetry, I kept this book for so long because I wanted the reminder of my accomplishment of reading the entire thing. It also served a sentimental placeholder that reminded me of that sweltering summer of depression and transition.
Now it's time to release it, and luckily, I dog-eared the pages of the few poems that truly spoke to me. So the next post will be full of those poems, so I can keep them, and then release the book to a future owner.
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no subject
Date: 2004-04-16 08:41 am (UTC)I kept Ulysses for the same reason. The Fountainhead too, although I doubt I'll ever pick it up again.
Good on you for getting rid of the Trophy Books. I see a bookshelf as so much of an autobiography that it's hard for me to let those go. "But how will people know my depth and breadth?" I think. "What if all they see are the astrology books? I am some kind of freak!"
It does feel so so so good to let them go though.
I like finding dog-ears in specific places in used books. I like to imagine what the prior author was like.
We had to read H.D. (autobiography?) in England. I never finished it and I never liked it. Stupid Gender and Modernity class, literary theory U@#&@&#*@#Y&&!
no subject
Date: 2004-04-16 08:53 am (UTC)There is a great poem by Billy Collins about the ways that people mark up their books, called "Marginalia." Here's a link with him reading the poem. (http://www.contemporarypoetry.com/dialect/poetry/collinsmarginalia.htm) Ah, I'd forgotten how I love this poem. I'm going to post it now so I don't lose it again!
no subject
Date: 2004-04-16 08:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-16 08:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-16 11:56 am (UTC)i think this anxiety is only natural. i for one can't seem to fully enjoy the "classics". my dig has always been contemporary fiction. besides, i've always thought that it's not the story that's important, but the effect it has on you. this is just my opinion, but i think that the best stories are the one's that i can easily empathize with. i can't force myself to like something--i can't force myself to relate to what's happening in the book [that's like trying to be friends with someone you have nothing in common with]. and that's why half the books i own are only half-read, or skimmed through [i can only acquaint myself to them because we can't relate any deeper than that..it's just the way the world works, i suppose].