Books. I libri.
If you know me, you know that I have a book problem.
I personally have never seen it as an actual problem, per se. What is so wrong about having three overflowing bookcases in your tiny LA apartment?
When it was time for me to pack everything up and leave LA, I conscripted some family members to help me with my move home. As they dutifully toted boxes from one second floor apartment to another second floor apartment 127 miles away, they never complained. One person did finally ask- “What do you have in all of these white boxes?”
“Books.”
Pause.
“Maybe you should think about getting one of those Kindles.”
A Kindle? But what about the heft? The worn corners? The book smell?!
How do you lend a Kindle to your friends because the story will change the way they see the world?
I don’t think that I am an unreasonable person. I am willing to compromise. DVDs? I’ll definitely sell those. No problemo. I rarely watch movies more than once.
But books are another story entirely.
I tend to form emotional attachments to books. I fall in love with the story, or the characters, or the beautiful words of a truly gifted writer. I have no issue giving these books to friends. Passing along the story to someone who will cherish it (almost) as much as I did. Sharing it with them.
But you want me to sell my books? To strangers?! Strangers who might WRITE in them? Or, God forbid, crease the pages to save their spot?
But on September 25th, I have to pack my entire life into two suitcases.
Ugh. Fine. I am selling my books.
My house is a mess, stacks of books covering the carpet. Joining them now are envelopes addressed to new owners all over the US.
Selling my books feels like the first step in saying goodbye to my life in the US. My literary life is literally disappearing before my eyes- book by book. At least “ciao” can also mean hello.
Ciao, libri! A presto!
NooooooOOOOoooooo! Give them to me 😉 Time permitting, (ha!) you should write a little goodbye/hello note in them before they leave your life forever. Including some form of contact in case one of your books reaches a particularly handsome and charming man who will come looking for you. These are the kinds of dreams I have.
PS Kindles will be used for kindle someday. Way before books ever will. Te prometo. (Is that Italian or still Spanish?)
oouuuyyy…. I hear you…. Amen.
Nothing like that smell or the texture between your already torn up fingers… and random paper cuts? hell yes.
my favorite… dropping in the bath tub and still refurbishing the delight that is paper pages.
xx
glad I found you blog.
I lived in Siena for 6 months…. good times!
Amy
refusestolabel.com
My first shock in Italy, was that polepe actually use mama mia!Italy is a Latin country, the music, the food, the mess? It’s shocking how many stereotypes are true of Rome, and Italy over all.
Wow, that is a lot of books. I guess I never realized it looking at your room because they were just a part of who you are. I really do hope they find a wonderful owner who will cherish them like you have.
And everything about this post is beautiful! The pictures, the words, the entire combination of things. 🙂
Sweet book collection.
You will always start one anew. Plus the library has them all anyway, should you really need to go read One Hundred Years of Solitude again. Which you won’t.
I have a huge personal library (about 3x what you describe), and I dream of one day moving to Italy (been there multiple times, love everything about the country, except their inability to use pooper scoopers). I would gladly sell off my entire collection (save a few, token volumes) if it meant I could move to Italy.
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