Owning Books You’ve Never Read
I went to an amazing thrift store called Uncommon Objects in Austin. They had tons of old books with the old smell, yellowy pages, antiquated covers and everything else that makes books wonderful.
I was dying to buy some of them, DYING. I wanted them all. Except, there was one HUGE problem; I’d never read any of the books. And most of these titles were unappealing to me (like, Physics in a Post Modern World or something like that) or the books was so dilapidated that if I tried to read it, it would have completely fallen apart.
I have a rule against owning books that you’ve never read/will never read. A lot of people do it. I can see the point, I mean – books can be a decorative item just as much as they can be a useful tool. But that’s bullshit. If you have a record, would you display it without ever listening to it? No.
I’ve started this rant, so I have to keep going. Alright. Reading isn’t hard. If you’re reading the right authors, you get carried away in it, or at least you should. If reading is a task for you, then you’re not reading who you should be reading. Okay, so it took you two months to get through Camus’ The Stranger and it burned the whole time. SO don’t read him, he’s obviously over your head. Go read Chuck Klosterman or someone else who practically paints the point out for you. Everyone should like reading, the same way that everyone likes music. I don’t know if it’s a problem with schools (like, making kids read Huckleberry Finn which would have turned me off from reading forever if that was the only book I ever read) or if people are just too spastic to sit and read a book, but if you have books on a shelf in your house, you better have read them.
Fin. I drank too much coffee today.