I used to collect books. I still do, but not as indiscriminately as before. It's my addiction. Buying books. Reading books. Carrying books. Sleeping with books. Stacking books. Smelling books. I do it all. Sometimes I stand in front of my bookshelf and just look at my books.
The other weekend I was at home and spent some time going through some of the shelves. You can make out my favourite books from figuring out how many copies I have of them.
Let's take Wuthering Heights, for example. At last count, I have five. There's the hardcover edition that I found at home when I was about twelve. It must have belonged to my mother, I guess. Or my father. Or maybe, one of my aunts, the eldest one, in all probability. However hard I try, I can't really see either of my other aunts reading Emily Bronte. And as for the family's favourite aunt, well, I never knew her since she died long before I was thought of, but from all I've heard of her, one thing is certain. She would have thought it an odd story and would have wondered why somebody did not discipline Cathy and Heathcliff. She was a disciplinarian. My father obviously adored her. My mother definitely feels that she missed out on a sister-in-law with whom she could have shared a common understanding of life. I wonder. My mother understood my passion for Wuthering Heights. I'm not sure my aunt would have. But I digress. This post is about books, not aunts. And specifically about the five copies of Wuthering Heights that I own.
The second copy I own is the book I bought during my college days. Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights was part of the syllabus and required reading. You can imagine my delight at discovering that fact. I read and re-read that book over ten times that semester. And every time I read it, I made notes by the side of the text. This is not something I do as a practice. I do not underline words (unless it is Chaucer/ Shakespeare/ Eliot and I feel the need to go back to the word later), write short explanatory notes in the margin, mark annotations for detailed study or inscribe the meanings of word next to the text. However, this copy of Wuthering Heights is completely covered with scribblings of the above kind. To add to it, all my teenage angst was expressed in then deep, now highly amusing, observations, jotted in the margin.
The third copy belonged to my best friend in college. It's wrapped neatly with the picture of a mountain. We were sitting in her room one day (I used to spend a lot of my time at her place. Still do, when I do go to Chennai.) and she picked it up and handed it over. Why do I still have it? Well, simply because she gave it to me. Some people and books are like that. They just are a part of your life. They don't need a reason.
The fourth copy was the one I bought to replace the scribbled-over one. Well, not exactly replace. I needed a less thumbed through copy for reading. Did I mention that I read this book over and over? I read it once in about 2 or 3 years now.
The fifth copy was the one I bought at Delhi airport when my flight was delayed by many hours. I was bored and angry and restless and when I had paced the length of the hall for the nth time, I decided that I needed to read Wuthering Heights. Most fortunately, the airport shop had a copy. The cover was slightly too glossy and romantic for my liking, but still, nothing can really lessen the charms of this story. And so picked up my fifth copy. This is the one I carry with me.
I see myself buying another one in the near future. On a visit home, I left my copy behind. And with me, when the urge to read Emily Bronte descends, it's overwhelming. If I can't get my hands on a copy immediately, I will end up buying one. So the chances of my owning a sixth copy are very high.
This is precisely why I have become more careful about buying books. In addition to buying new books, I find myself buying additional copies of books I already have. Sometimes I buy a new book only to realise that I had bought it the previous year and still not got around to reading it. I owned two copies of the Time Traveller's Wife before I actually read it. Maybe I should just read more often.
The other weekend I was at home and spent some time going through some of the shelves. You can make out my favourite books from figuring out how many copies I have of them.
Let's take Wuthering Heights, for example. At last count, I have five. There's the hardcover edition that I found at home when I was about twelve. It must have belonged to my mother, I guess. Or my father. Or maybe, one of my aunts, the eldest one, in all probability. However hard I try, I can't really see either of my other aunts reading Emily Bronte. And as for the family's favourite aunt, well, I never knew her since she died long before I was thought of, but from all I've heard of her, one thing is certain. She would have thought it an odd story and would have wondered why somebody did not discipline Cathy and Heathcliff. She was a disciplinarian. My father obviously adored her. My mother definitely feels that she missed out on a sister-in-law with whom she could have shared a common understanding of life. I wonder. My mother understood my passion for Wuthering Heights. I'm not sure my aunt would have. But I digress. This post is about books, not aunts. And specifically about the five copies of Wuthering Heights that I own.
The second copy I own is the book I bought during my college days. Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights was part of the syllabus and required reading. You can imagine my delight at discovering that fact. I read and re-read that book over ten times that semester. And every time I read it, I made notes by the side of the text. This is not something I do as a practice. I do not underline words (unless it is Chaucer/ Shakespeare/ Eliot and I feel the need to go back to the word later), write short explanatory notes in the margin, mark annotations for detailed study or inscribe the meanings of word next to the text. However, this copy of Wuthering Heights is completely covered with scribblings of the above kind. To add to it, all my teenage angst was expressed in then deep, now highly amusing, observations, jotted in the margin.
The third copy belonged to my best friend in college. It's wrapped neatly with the picture of a mountain. We were sitting in her room one day (I used to spend a lot of my time at her place. Still do, when I do go to Chennai.) and she picked it up and handed it over. Why do I still have it? Well, simply because she gave it to me. Some people and books are like that. They just are a part of your life. They don't need a reason.
The fourth copy was the one I bought to replace the scribbled-over one. Well, not exactly replace. I needed a less thumbed through copy for reading. Did I mention that I read this book over and over? I read it once in about 2 or 3 years now.
The fifth copy was the one I bought at Delhi airport when my flight was delayed by many hours. I was bored and angry and restless and when I had paced the length of the hall for the nth time, I decided that I needed to read Wuthering Heights. Most fortunately, the airport shop had a copy. The cover was slightly too glossy and romantic for my liking, but still, nothing can really lessen the charms of this story. And so picked up my fifth copy. This is the one I carry with me.
I see myself buying another one in the near future. On a visit home, I left my copy behind. And with me, when the urge to read Emily Bronte descends, it's overwhelming. If I can't get my hands on a copy immediately, I will end up buying one. So the chances of my owning a sixth copy are very high.
This is precisely why I have become more careful about buying books. In addition to buying new books, I find myself buying additional copies of books I already have. Sometimes I buy a new book only to realise that I had bought it the previous year and still not got around to reading it. I owned two copies of the Time Traveller's Wife before I actually read it. Maybe I should just read more often.
3 comments:
Do you have a lot of unread books as well? I do. They are like a stockpile...and the pile builds up faster than I read them!!
Not a good philosophy, and we are running out of space!
@fg
Now, I do. I used to read all the time. Now I find that my reading is down to two books a week. Maybe just one, depending on the book and work. I try not to buy so many, but it's a futile exercise, really. I find myself inside bookshops without knowing how I got there and I find myself with books I don't remember buying:)
I hardly ever buy books. My collection has always been small. But I borrow from the library and read about 1.5 to 2 books a week. Singapore has awesome libraries!
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