Monday, April 09, 2007
Covered with dust in the barn I dug through box after box of books that I had decided needed to make the migration from Chicago in 2005. In hindsight at least 3 boxes should have ended up in a thrift store on the south side, probably Unique on Archer. I wasn’t as brave at the time and thought that all of those books would eventually be reread someday. A fair amount will be, but a fair amount made the trip for nothing. On Saturday I came up with two medium boxes filled with paperbacks and a few hardcovers that will soon end up at Jasper Junction. Saturday night I was disappointed that I only came up with 2 boxes so I promised to look through it all again Sunday morning. This produced another full large box, this one with many beat up Far Side collections. They are funny but I hope to buy the complete collection someday so perhaps that will speed that goal along. So many great books made the cut and will be allowed to stay until I get another bug to dig through things. All of the Hemingway made it of course. Flipping through each text produces a flutter of notes and scribbling in the margins. If I could ever see myself rereading something it could not be given away. This explains the huge box of Archie double digests that remains. I still dig those books. If it is something I could see lending endlessly I could also never give it away. That explains the piles of Sin City and DC trades. If it is anything that I would definitely buy again I could not throw away my ratty old copy in good faith. I may buy other copies, but the fraying and splitting copies of In Our Time, The Things They Carried, and A Farewell to Arms are the specific copies I know I read for the first time. How could I get rid of those?
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1 comment:
"..are the specific copies I know I read for the first time. How could I get rid of those?"
While there are far fancier editions of my favorite classics, the broken-spined and tattered copies I first read are special. They've earned their room and board, as far as I'm concerned.
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