It absolutely irritates me to no end when people mishandle books I lend them; the unforgivable sin is breaking the binding of a paperback so there's an ugly fucking shite of a scar down the spine.

I don't even fold over page corners; I either memorize the page number I stopped on or put a bookmark in, but never near the spine - always near the outer edge of the book.

Then I started dating and eventually living with a boyfriend who owned over 2000 books - and every one of them was in mint, ah say, MINT condition. His friends, all of whom were varying degrees of anal about their books, used to make fun of him, he was so bad.

Luckily, he and I didn't really have the same taste in books so it was never a problem. But he used to wince when he saw me reading one of my own books. I was so confused - I was like, "How the HELL do you read a paperback without bending the SPINE!?" We all teased him about how he must use tweezers to hold his books so they would stay in mint condition.

But it's weird, I must have started picking up good book reading habits from him because little by little (not from pressure from him), I started getting obsessive about not cracking the spines of my books too. I think it was once I bought every Robertson Davies book I could get my hands on, and wanted my collection to stay intact that I started getting concerned with my books.

So now I'm reasonable with books. An occasional cracked spine doesn't bother me. I still read in the bathtub, but certainly not with a book that I've borrowed (unless I borrowed it from my mother, who reads in the bath all the time). But I'm usually careful not to mangle the book so that it looks half decent on my book shelves.

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I was like, "How the HELL do you read a paperback without bending the SPINE!?"

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I just lent out a four-volume set to someone, a translation of a Chinese novel. the first volume, which I managed to read with absolutely no appreciable wear, has come back all grubby and worn, and the lower right corner is completely bashed in so that all the pages through the book are bent. It is now highly unlikely that the four volumes will fit in their cardboard sheath. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. OK. Now choke him. Seriously though, I didn't say anything; nor did I recall the other volumes, though I wanted to. I treat such things now as an opportunity to do a little spiritual learning -- overcome attachments, all that jazz. Still, the instincts are there.

Where do you suppose anal-retentiveness about books comes from? I'm not anal about anything else.

The one thing I will say is that if I have read and thoroughly enjoyed a book, and feel that it has been my companion for a while, then I don't mind its being worn. Likewise, if I am really intimate with someone, if I love them, I don't mind if they damage my books, just like they can trample over my heart, just like I don't mind drinking from the same glass as them (which I normally do mind with most people. OK. I am anal about other things).

Like I say, I am recovering. A few days ago I spilt coffee on Wittgenstein's Remarks on Colour, a mint copy I had just gotten very cheaply. I was philosophical about it.

Not always so. Once, in India, there was an episode. I had gotten a very rare three-volume edition of a text of Kashmir Shaivism in Sanskrit, published in Srinagar by the long-defunct but well-respected Kashmir Series of Texts in Sanskrit, funded by the then princely state. Well, in India, if you leave a book at a photocopy store for copying, what they do is they unstitch the binding so they can spread the pages flat, then they stitch it back up again. Sidebar: bookbinding is a highly skilled craft that requires years of training and experience. You don't learn it on your own while while getting high on Xerox fumes. Anyhow, a co-resident of my student house wanted a copy of the first volume. I said, sure, borrow mine, but absolutely under no circumstances allow the store to unstitch the binding and destroy the book. She agreed. I reiterated the importance of this detail, twice. She agreed, twice more. The book came back, and the spine was like, twice as thick as before, and the pages didn't line up. I turned to ice and was like -- L., the binding has been unstitched. She denied it. You f****** brown-rice eating, cult freak space case!!!! why don't you quit meditating and look at the real world!!!! I went to the photocopy shop, I swear I almost had a heart attack I was so angry at their insolence. I seriously considered exacting vengeance by smashing their window or feeding fly paper into their auto-feed copier.

That was then, this is now.

[ June 05, 2002: Message edited by: rasmus_raven ]

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Where do you suppose anal-retentiveness about books comes from?

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Once, in India, there was an episode. I had gotten a very rare three-volume edition of a text of Kashmir Shaivism in Sanskrit, published in Srinagar by the long-defunct but well-respected Kashmir Series of Texts in Sanskrit, funded by the then princely state.

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From the sounds of some of your books it's pretty understandable that you'd want to keep them in excellent condition. You seem to read pretty intense sounding literature. When you put that much thought into getting that rare find I'm surprised you even lend them out!

But the rare ones aren't original printings of classics or anything; they're the beginning books of my 1950s-era Tom Swift collection.

The not-really-rare books that would still be VERY troublesome to replace are books I either got used or that I bought new and then rapidly went out of print - for example, my Tom Swift 1990s-era collection, older Isaac Asimov novels, etc.

One thing I learned the hard way when moving: don't pack books in boxes that are more than maybe a foot on a side. My back is grateful that I learned this, though it was briefly disgruntled that I couldn't learn it faster.

Edited to add: I think I prefer "fussbook" because of its resemblence to "fussbudget," which is a word you don't hear often enough these days.

[ June 05, 2002: Message edited by: 'lance ]

I wasn't just keeping them clean and flat and unbroken; I had my own little cataloguing system, and could become seriously disturbed in mind if too many of them ended up out of their proper sockets. Hard to imagine now how I did that, never mind why. I'm still pretty careful as I read new books m'self, except for my working books -- the dictionaries and style guides work better if they're well softened up, no? -- but I long ago accepted that Fang's first move on a paperback will be to curl back the cover. I often wish that he would break the spines -- instead of opening books flat, he tends to fold the pages back an inch or so into the gutter, so they end up permanently fanning out ... I still hate that.

Some of my favourite books are cheap paperbacks I've read or referred to so many times that they're now in several pieces and get stored with elastic bands around them -- my first copy of Swift selections is like that (Bantam uses the cheapest glue around -- that one is now almost completely loose pages, and they're turning brown and crumbling ...); so is my Shirer, Rise and Fall, and John Prebble's Lion in the North.

On the other hand, I like to encourage interest in any kind of books. So I don't actively discourage playing with my books.

I love books, but I'm not one to keep them pristine. I carry them in bags, crack spines, curl covers, read 'em in the bathtub....

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I noticed a lot of travellers in India, when reading a paperback, would rip out the pages as they went along, so as to reduce weight in their belongings. I saw this as a rather self-absorbed and wasteful thing to do.

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I've only done that twice and since then I wonder if perhaps I should have kept them anyway.

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Are you obsessive about your books?

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...I was so happy to have enough space to have my books organized properly again.

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I moved over a year and a half ago, and I still have some books packed in boxes... Occasionally I ransack them to find something, but I'm short of shelf space.

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(And if I'm missing a joke here -- again -- would someone please nudge me before Wingy gets back?)

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The social science books are organised, loosely, by topic. Idem "literature", mostly Italian literature. I have French and English novels, short stories etc shelved separately, with a special cat category and a travel books category.

Of course Art and pretty books also have their spots.

I also have a lot of unpretty classifiers for periodicals and office supplies - computer stuff and stationery. Can somebody tell me what to do with my beloved old Mac Classic II? Does any charity take them?

Remember, I work at home, and a lot of these books are for my work or doctoral research.

In the kitchen, there are bookcases full of cookbooks.

[aside: I recently saw a volume of erotica all on the theme of water that was printed on waterproof pages. Inspired, I call it. Though, I haven't actually read the book, it may just be a clever marketing ploy.]

Recently, I loaned a signed first edition of a novel to a friend who returned it stained, bent and full of crumbs. Did I just about snap? Yes, I just about did.

And, I'm delighted to read that others are as obsessive as I am when it comes to cataloguing their books - Michelle's system, with fiction and non-fiction on separate bookcases, speaks right to my heart.

My books are mostly in boxes, I guess 'cause I've moved five times in the last three years. The ones that aren't boxed are the ones I'm currently reading - about a half dozen at the moment. They are laying wherever I last put them down. I don't really know why I do that - start reading a new book before I finished the last one, but, meh whatchagonnado?

Some of my books are in near the condition they were when I bought them, others held together only by duct tape. I'm not too picky, as long as they are still legible.

The one thing I NEVER do anymore is lend books to other people, even my closest friends and family, unless they read them while in my house. Way too many of my books have been 'borrowed' permanently. I used to have three thesauruses (thesauri?) but they have now become 'extinct'.

We have a one bedroom apartment, 3 bookshelves (doublestacked with books) - people all say "Wow, you have a lot of books", and then they notice the second stacks of books behind the first, and their jaws drop. Our closets (both of them) are full of comic books and some magazines, the shelf under our desk is full, they're starting to pile up beside the desk, and my mother says she has ten bags of books at home they don't want anymore, and she wants me to go through them!

Add to this, a professor here died a while ago, and last weekend they had a giant sale of all his 20,000+ books, so we picked up about 40 books there on Saturday. (It was cheap, they gave me a box, what else was I going to do?) And today is the start of the book sale in support of the symphony! Is there a 12-step program for addiction to books?

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The one thing I NEVER do anymore is lend books to other people, even my closest friends and family, unless they read them while in my house. Way too many of my books have been 'borrowed' permanently. I used to have three thesauruses (thesauri?) but they have now become 'extinct'.

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BTW, not that you need to know this at all, heh heh, but there is a gigantic used book fair that the Kingston Symphony Association runs every year, and it's starting tonight. "Summer reading" novels are a buck each, most of the rest of the books (unless they're really rare editions or signed or whatever) are going to be half or less than half of the cover price. Apparently there's a huge Canadiana section this year.

Just to give you the scope of this sale, and how many books they have at it, last year they made $27,000 on it. $27,000. Unbelievable. I've never been to it, but I'm going this year. Apparently it's as big as a book store, and not only that, but it's organized as well as a real book store, and lots of volunteers who sorted the books and can tell you where stuff is. It's organized better than a lot of used books stores, or so I'm told.

In case you (or anyone else from the Kingston or surrounding area) want to go, here's the details:

J.K. Tett Centre
370 King Street West (just past St. Mary's of the Lake Hospital)

Today only: Entry fee is $2 per ticket.
Tickets are being sold from 12:30 p.m. forward today, and they're numbered, because only 100 people are allowed in at a time so it doesn't get impossible to browse (there's always a rush on the first day).

Grand Opening, today (Wednesday, September 18): 5-9 p.m.
Thursday and Friday: 10 a.m. - 9 p.m.
Saturday: 10 a.m. - 4 p.m.
Sunday: Noon - 4 p.m. (all books 1/2 price Sunday)

Like you needed to know this, huh Alix? I'm not going to bother going tonight. It's exciting to go on the first night, but there's admission first of all, and secondly, tonight is when all the dealers are going to be there, most likely. Apparently dealers come from all over Southern and Eastern Ontario to go to this thing.

I didn't notice that you snuck in a small line about the Symphony sale! hee hee, you already knew about it!

The rest, I lend them out, and if I don't see them back, oh well. My mother and I are quite the commune when it comes to our bookshelves. Lots of our books live on each other's shelves, and in a lot of cases, we can't figure out whose book is whose!

I used to be very possessive about my books in that I would gloat over them and have joy in simple ownership of them, but I've never had a problem with lending them. I guess I still do have pride in ownership since I go out of my way to organize them quite anally, but at one point I was going to start "circulating" them and put stickers inside them telling people to read the book and pass it along, and maybe sign the inside cover. I thought it would be neat if someday the book got back to me, to see how many people had read it.

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In fact, when I get a book that I absolutely love, I start pushing it on other people - "Oh my God, you HAVE to read this! No, push all your other books aside, THIS one is amazing. Here, let me find it - here it is. Take it home and read it, it's awesome! ..."

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Isn't it a bummer when they read it and aren't nearly as impressed as you were?

As for the condition of my collection - if I was worried about keeping my books mint I'd never read them. They follow me to diesel encrusted work, to the beach, in my backpack on my cycle etc. I love a well worn book, and I warn all that like to lend me books that this is the case.

[ September 18, 2002: Message edited by: skadie ]

The professor who died was John Ursell, and he was a math professor, but his range of books was incredible. I probably picked up 15-20 mythology/folklore books, a few medieval history books - you name it, he had it. Not nearly as many math books as anything else.

And about the last comment, I have an odd quirk that if someone lends me a book, I won't read it, even if it's something I've wanted to read. I have no idea why I don't like to read books I've been lent, but I start feeling stubborn, like I'm being forced to read it, and being just plain ornery, I refuse to. People shouldn't lend me books, because then they just sit on my bookshelves, doing nothing. (Then again, neither do I ask to borrow books, since I know I have this small eccentricity)

(Edited for small typos)

[ September 18, 2002: Message edited by: Alix ]

Alix, I went to the symphony book sale 3 or 4 times. I bought so freaking many books. My shelves are bulging. And I think in all I spent about, what, $30-40? The price of 3 or 4 books, and I got a ton of Canadiana paperbacks I've always wanted, and a bunch of other stuff too.

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Originally posted by Michelle:
Bumping this thread yet again. The rants of the Raven don't get tired.

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Indeed they do not.

But time for a rant of my own.

The cost of books. Is. Outrageous.

A book printed in 1966 cost 50 cents.

A book of approximately the same size, today, costs twelve freakin' bucks.

That's goddamn highway robbery.

1200 cents divide 50 cents gives a price increase of twenty-four times. The cost of everything on average since the mid-1960s has only gone up about four or five times.

Either book publishers are really ripping us off or they've made some unconscionably stupid business decisions and need to raise book prices this much to stay profitable.

Sure, I don't read the latest publications, but then again, I probably wouldn't read them anyway. (Just yesterday I was reading Macaulay's review of Carlyle's Frederick the Great in an 1865 edition of articles collected from the Edinburgh Review).

I have a very rare and beautiful Italian prayer-book) from the late 1800's as the pinnacle of my small collection. I'm just as happy to own a copy of 'The Architect of Sleep,' by Steven R. Boyett.

I don't lend out the "good" books. And I'm rather fussy about how people handle them. I would like to keep them in as good a condition as possible for as long a time as possible.

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For him that steals, or borrows and returns not, a book from its owner, let it change into a serpent in his hand and rend him. Let him be struck with palsy, and all his members blasted. Let him languish in pain crying aloud for mercy, and let there be no surcease to his agony till he sing in dissolution. Let bookworms gnaw at his entrails in token of the Worm that dieth not. And when at last he goes to his final punishment, let the flames of Hell consume him for ever.
-- curse inscribed in the library of the monastery of San Pedro

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At the risk of revealing yet more of our sordid past together... I can recall you pressing books on people enthusiastically, but if you made strenuous efforts to retrieve them, I wasn't aware of it.

I used to collect classic science-fiction novels. (I even have a 1st edition Foundation by Asimov, back when it was titled, The 1000 Year Plan).) In an attempt to lower my Geek Score, I switched to signed hardcover copies of serious literary fiction (like the works of Rushdie my favourite author).

No one got to touch the Asimov, or some of my vintage signed Nivens. And I was really protective of the Rushdies.... until one day it occurred to me that Books Are Meant To Be Read.

In fact, it further occurred to me that well-thumbed books are in many ways more valuable than untouched ones. Not from a monetary standpoint, of course, but rather from a perspective of innate human value. There's something warming about holding a book that's been read by hundred other people.

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The thing I hate about having a live-in Virgo laundry / chauffeurring / vacuuming / cooking / foot-rubbing / library alphabetizing slave ...

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scrabble. Dear scrabble. Nobody cares what you hate about having a live-in Virgo[1] laundry / chauffeurring / vacuuming / cooking / foot-rubbing / library alphabetizing slave ...

have you read the post-Moor's Last Sigh novels? i heard that Ground Beneath Her Feet and Fury kinda suck, which, if true, is a shame. i saw his new non-fiction collection Step Across This Line at a used bookstore last week, and i was thinking of buying. i noticed that it's dedicated to Christopher Hitchens. and i've heard that he says things about Pakistani poet Faiz Ahmad Faiz that aren't entirely true.

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i heard that Ground Beneath Her Feet and Fury kinda suck, which, if true, is a shame.

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If I liked a book and saw it cheap I would buy copies in the hopes of giving it away. I have about 3 Candides and 2 Iliads. I also have inherited some. I have a box of labour books that belonged to Bob Strachan. They appear to be his second tier books, but I feel obligated to keep them.

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Originally posted by Mohamad Khan:
yo iworm, which of Rushdie's books have you got?

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The standard ones: Midnight's Children, Shame, Grimus, Satanic Verses, Haroon, Moor's Last Sigh (which I haven't read yet) and Step Across This Line.

Like with most people, "Midnight's Children" is my favourite. "Shame" has a special place in my memory, though, since I was reading it on a street corner in Penang, Malaysia, while a drunken prostitute harrassed me.

If you enjoy non-fiction, I would highly recommend Step Across This Line.

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and i've heard that he says things about Pakistani poet Faiz Ahmad Faiz that aren't entirely true.

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I saw Rushdie speak in DC recently. He talked about Faiz at length, but I don't recall any specifics, other than Rushdie having been inspired to be politically aware through Faiz's supposed dictum that artists should be engaged in the world.

(Edited to add Satanic Verses, which was omitted supposedly for reasons of unconscious quality control.)

[ 06 June 2003: Message edited by: iworm ]

[ 06 June 2003: Message edited by: iworm ]

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I must admit when I go to someone's house and their books are all crap I do feel somewhat smug about it.

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Or even worse, when people don't have any books in their houses!

I always feel like I should back out of those houses very quickly and quietly without meeting anyone's eyes. There must be something wrong with those people!

Ah, books, books, books. Having re-read my previous two posts on this thread, all I have to say is that my books own more of my apartment than ever. And our action figures are having starting to challenge them for space.

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Originally posted by Alix:

Or even worse, when people don't have any books in their houses!

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Weirdly, I have found this to be the case of households of really really religious people.

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The standard ones: Midnight's Children, Shame, Grimus, Satanic Verses, Haroon, Moor's Last Sigh (which I haven't read yet) and Step Across This Line.

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maybe i'll pick up SATL then. you don't have Imaginary Homelands? i wish i did.

read The Moor's Last Sigh! now! i thought it was mediocre the first time i went through it, but i read it again for a paper last year, and it's a beautiful story, so alive with modern Indian paintings, Hindu fascists, Cochin Jews, Lusophile madmen, and...oh man, Adam Zogoiby. if 'lance is right, it may be his last good novel for a while.

my favourite is The Satanic Verses, probably because it's the first one i read, as a whitewashed teenager, and because it deals more directly with the diaspora than the others. i wasn't crazy about Shame, but it's not too bad either.

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I saw Rushdie speak in DC recently. He talked about Faiz at length, but I don't recall any specifics, other than Rushdie having been inspired to be politically aware through Faiz's supposed dictum that artists should be engaged in the world.

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sorry if i'm cynical about Rushdie lionising Urdu poets such as Faiz. the way he slighted Indian authors writing in languages other than English (in the Vintage anthology of Indian short stories) was very cutting. after he wrote, essentially, that English Indian fiction was best and that works in other Indian languages were second-rate, many of his critics raised the objection that in all likelihood Rushdie can't even read in any Indian language beside English. judging from his life history, i think that probably he can speak and understand Urdu very well, but can he read it? it's doubtful. can he read enough to understand Faiz? not likely. i read an excerpt from his essay on Faiz, and i believe he was working almost exclusively from translations...probably Victor Kiernan's or somebody's.

no doubt Faiz thought that artists ought to be engaged in the world; he was a Communist who was jailed repeatedly for anti-govt activity, for Christ's sake. he was certainly not the first political Urdu poet, but the beginning of the ever-important tenstion between Gham-i-jaanaa~ and Gham-i-dauraa~ is associated with one of his most famous early poems. respectively, the two terms mean, roughly, "sorrow for the beloved" and "sorrow for the times." that is, essentially, love and social consciousness. the poem was:

mujh se pahlii sii muhabbat merii mahbuub na maang

maine samajhaa thaa ke tuu hai to daraKhshaa~ hai hayaat
teraa Gham hai to Gham-i-dahr kaa jhagRaa kyaa hai
terii suurat se hai `aalam me~ bahaaro~ ko sabaat
terii aankho~ ke siwaa duniyaa me~ rakhaa kya hai?

tuu jo mil jaaye to taqdiir niguu~ ho jaaye
yuu~ na thaa, maine faqat caahaa thaa yuu~ ho jaaye

an-ginat sadiyo~ kii taariik bihiimaana tilism
reshm o atlas o kamKhaab me~ bunwaaye hue
jaa ba-jaa bikte hue kuucha o baazaar me~ jism
Khaak me~ lithRe hue Khuun me~ nahlaaye hue

lauT jaatii hai idhar ko bhii nazar kyaa kii jiye
ab bhii dil-kash hai teraa husn, magar kyaa kii jiye

aur bhii dukh hai~ zamaane me~ muhabbat ke siwaa
raahate~ aur bhii hai~ wasl kii raahat ke siwaa

My Love, don't ask me for a love like that I had before.

I thought that you had made my life into a shining thing,
If I grieved for you, then what did earthly grief comprise?
I thought your image was substantiation of the spring;
I thought, What is there in the world besides her eyes?

I thought that if I gained you, Fate would fall in disarray--
It wasn't like that; I just wanted it to be that way.

The dark and brutish spell of countless centuries untold,
Woven into silk, sewn into satin and brocade,
Here and there, in street and market, bodies being sold,
Soiled and smeared in mud, sodden and bathed in blood.

Even now my gaze wanders back there--what can I do?
Even now your beauty is a snare--what can I do?

There are other pains besides the pain that love affords;
Comforts other than the comfort of loving accord.

[ 09 June 2003: Message edited by: Mohamad Khan ]

Anyway, to the topic at hand: I used to divide my books by genre, subgenre and then alphabetically by author. I now have a more simplified system. First, I divide them according to paperback/hardcover (I have a large sturdy bookcase devoted to the big heavy books). The hardcovers are in alpha-order according to author/editor, but aren't delineated by genre in any way. The paperbacks are first divided by pop-fiction (purely entertainment) or more "serious" fiction (allegedly thought-provoking content). The pop fiction lives in boxes in my basement. The remaining is divided between fiction and non-fiction, with one bookcase for each. I've done away with subcategories like Philosopy and Politics, Feminist Theory, Poetry, CanLit, etc.