Why I want a Library Part 2!

In my previous post I discussed why I wanted to own a personal library.  I got wonderful feedback and thoughts from many of you.  My friend Micah posted a comment that has got me thinking more about personal libraries. So, instead of moving on....yahoo!  More library talk!

Micah's post was as follows: 
"TD...there is so much about owning a great library (books & physical space) that really appeals to me but I have my own inner struggle that has not been resolved...it comes from a notion in a story in Rachel Remen's book Kitchen Table Wisdom...I don't want to own more things than I can love...I just can't love that much stuff" 

From my research this quote comes from a story about a poor, young boy who owns only two Hotwheel toy cars and loves those two cars more than any other possession.  A more affluent friend of the family notices the boy's passion for Hotwheels and, out of love, gives the boy a box full of Hotwheels.  Time passes and the friend notices that the young boy no longer plays with his Hotwheels.  When asked about this, the boy replies, "Rachel, I just don't know how to love this many cars..."  The author's conclusion from this touching story: "I don't want to own more things than I can love..."

As with most thoughts from my friend Micah, it has the subtle, simple ring of truth.  It reminds me of a line from my current book, The Writing Life by Annie Dillard. "The life of sensation is the life of greed; it requires more and more.  The life of the spirit requires less and less; time is ample and its passage sweet."  Here's a run down on some of the thoughts that have been running through my head as I wrestle with this quote and it's application to the wonderful world of personal libraries.

As many of you know, the word "love" is horribly broad.  As I learned from  Matt Chandler a few years back, the word "love" has three separate words in Hebrew.  You've got Raya (friend and companion like), Ahava (the emotion that leads to life long commitment), and Dod (the physical and sexual element in a relationship).  It's hard for me to apply any of these Hebrew sentiments to any object--hotwheels or books.  But we all do it, it's an ever present hyperbole that our culture has embraced.  We love our sports teams, we love Knorks, we love open floor plans, hardwood floors, granite counter tops, and large back yards (yes, my wife and I are currently house shopping).  I'd like to be in a place where I don't love any objects.  Ya know, like trying to save Raya, Ahava, and Dod for things like God, wife, people and of course my old dog Booker (minus the Dod).  Besides, isn't love an unlimited resource?  When the Lord said to love your neighbor he seemed to suggest that we couldn't use the excuse, "Well I can't love that many people, all of my love is used up."  If God is love than surely we are unlimited in our capacity to love.

But alas, this whole conversation feels like Christian-ese deflection, right?   Nothing like a distracting conversation on the semantics of the word "love" to really hide from the question on the table:  Is it healthy to try and attach that much meaning and value to so many books?  Or more specific to the story: Does my collection of books hinder my enjoyment of reading as it did with the boy and his Hotwheels?
 
On our four-week honeymoon, my wife and I took a ridiculous 1,100 pictures (teachers get to do silly things like take four-week honeymoons).  We picked about three hundred of the 1,100 and got a Shutterfly book that we share with friends and family.  Of course, I could survive without many of the three hundred pictures.  But they all have meaning to one degree or another, and the collection as a whole is a joy to peruse and share with other people.  And, by trimming down the number of pictures we printed from 1,100 to three hundred, the sheer volume of photos doesn't seem to distract from the purpose of the book:  to remind me of the lavish gifts the Lord showered on my wife and me.

When I ask myself, "Can I really love all these books?" it feels like someone looking over my shoulder and scowling while I'm in a comfortable chair enjoying my honeymoon pictures.

It is not hard to see the danger in a library.  As you know, I love having a section of unread books (the Raven book just winked at me) but it's not hard to see how this could flow into the stream of gluttony (more, More, MORE!).  I've noticed that eyeing my unread section doesn't ever seem quite as sexy as a stroll through Half Priced Books, for a truly "new" book. To help combat this and my propensity to keep books that have little to no meaning, I have a self imposed library limit.  Right now it's two bookshelves.  If we buy a house it will hopefully be one room with built in book shelves on one or two walls.  Whatever the limit, it prevents me from accumulating countless boxes of books that end up doubling as a nesting cave for attic spider eggs (that clicking sound you hear is my wife copying, pasting and saving the previous line just in case the love of her life needs a gentle reminder one day).  It helps me limit my Half Priced Book expeditions and helps me enjoy the books I have.  It also forces me to dispose of the ones that didn't stir my heart (I'm looking at you Cormac McCarthy).

As previously discussed, my reasons for owning a library are as follows: 1) it honors parts of my heart, 2) It provides great conversations, 3) It allows me to share with others, 4) It sets a quiet, reflective spirit in at least one room.  It'd be easy to just say these things just make books different than Hotwheels.  Hotwheels (at least for me) can't speak truth, can't make me laugh, and can't make me cry.  But it's more than just that.  It feels like a CEO father thumbing through the sketch book of an artistic son and asking, "Which ones don't you love?  Which ones can we get rid of?"  I'm not entirely sure it's the right question for me to be asking in this particular situation, at this particular time in my life, as much as I love and affirm the quote.

Maybe to get around the whole thing, I can just get a little sneaky.  "But Rachel, this doesn't apply here, I don't love that many things, I only love one thing... I love my book collection!"

It's a great thought Micah, I love the quote.  Thanks so much for reading and sharing something personal.

Happy reading and Hotwheeling,

-td