If I was following this take on Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poem, it should read 'Books, books everywhere, nor any one to read...' but that's far from the case.
I have to reach a decision soon about what to do with the many books crammed in to every available space in the house: teetering bookcases, boxes in cupboards, on the shelves in the airing cupboard, on top of wardrobes.
Part of the problem is that when Iwas growing up, books were something of a luxury and, once acquired, were to be loved and cherished for ever.
Now, though I really enjoy having a Kindle, it's not quite the same as having something you can touch, can smell, can flick through. It's a bit like the difference between a love affair and a marriage : which are worth reading, keeping for a while and then discarding and which are those you want to keep forever?
Least you think this blog is a way of procrastinating about this yet again, be assured serious attempts have already been made. But am I the right person to decide? Who needs a copy of Advanced Accounts (published 1926) or Pelmanism (whatever that might be) in six volumes. Then there's that encyclopedia set (no longer needed with the internet easily available).
How did these books get on to my shelves? Do they breed in the night?Surely they can go? But wait a minute...1926 was just before the Big Crash - perhaps there's some historical value here? And Pelmanisim might be the way to solve any future problems, if only there was time to investigate.
And so it goes on. I'd love to be as disciplined as a friend who works on the principle of one in,one out, but alas that is not what happens.
Has anyone any suggestions?
In the meantime I'm off to Ikea to buy some more bookcases.