Intellectual Cavities

 

As I march along entering my books into Library Thing, I am beginning to feel a little sick to my stomach. It could be that I am reentering the world of sugar after abstaining, mostly, for all of Lent. I am prone to self flagellation and either over indulgence will do. The candy, with five young people to help it along is evaporating as we speak. The books belong on my shelves even if there are more than I thought there were. 

The chocolate bunny that has me queasy is The Library of Essential Writers. I bought all of them from Barnes and Noble several years ago (except for Lovecraft. I don’t do scary). All of the included authors were touted as classics and important that I mostly wasn’t allowed to read. I thought I’d just dive in and catch up on all of it, back before I had a real understanding of how vast all of it is. Crowhook has crammed my shelves with not just primary texts, but a growing collection of secondary texts about my texts. When everyone else was choosing a specialty I was trying very hard to look stupid which is generally an easy task. I want it all, but I’m a decade or two, too late.

My library probably won’t ever sing the way I hoped it would, but it may cast enough light for someone else with greater time or talent to get started. It’s worth a little brain ache.