My oldest son stood spellbound in front of shelves that must have seemed endlessly high and wide from his small vantage. The Study was a familiar room to him, one he often requisitioned for all manner of creative projects and mischief. The surrounding mass of books had been nothing more than background scenery. I’m not sure what triggered it, but today he took them all in spine by spine.
I watched inconspicuously from my desk as he fingered past the precious and brittle volumes inherited from my grandfather, the preacher. He stared happily at the colorful set of Calvin & Hobbes compendiums, then glassed over a bit when he got to the dense rows of muted color that marked the theology section. Pausing for a moment, he took note of interesting molecular shapes and anatomical poses on the spines of the medical textbooks. He lingered longest in the fiction section, excitedly recognizing a few titles that we’ve read aloud as a family. Just when I began to self-indulge in the sentiment of the moment, he posed the question that had been brewing in his head.
“Dad, have you actually read all these?” There was no effort whatsoever to hide his incredulity.
And so I was brought rudely back from my parental reverie. After his grand tour through the titles that mean so much to me, his first reaction was to question whether or not I was using them for their intended purpose. Fair enough.
Taking the accusation in stride, I confessed that no, I have not read every book in our library. Sensing his disapproval, I felt the need to defend myself use this as a teachable moment.
I explained to my boy that the practice of stockpiling books we’ve already read (his main concern, judging by the inciting question) is way down on my list of library benefits. It’s definitely on the list, but it isn’t the chief end of my book hoarding. Except for the few gems that fit into the “reread as often as you can” category, a library full of previously read books can easily become a sort of in-home monument—vaguely commemorating past accomplishments, having no real present purpose.
In contrast, the array of books in our home is intended for ongoing, well-rounded usefulness. They’re there to show us what’s possible, not venerate what’s already been. Even the history books, which are expressly about what has already been, are there to light an inquisitive fuse and point us forward into new exploits.
So my library has a diverse lot of books and, more importantly, an open invitation to the kids: Come; stoke your interest in all kinds of incredible things! Curious about those wall paintings you saw in the pyramids on TV? Let’s look through this book of hieroglyphs and learn how to write our names. Wondering what I’m talking about when I say your runny nose is caused by a virus? Well check out this picture of one of the little menaces right here in my old virology book (and yes, it is freaky that this guy is attacking your nose right now). Not following what we’re talking about in family worship? Look at this, the Bible atlas shows exactly where it happened so you can picture the scene better.
So it goes, on and on.
It starts with that kind of hand-holding (cattle prodding in some cases) and then one day you find a kid sitting on the floor reading a Latin/English dictionary because he “felt like it.” Next day, it’s a book on the history of baseball.
That’s it right there. Curiosity kindled, self-learning employed, parental reverie achieved. Sure, we use the internet too but, for my kids at least, a room full of books inspires more than a blinking search engine cursor.
So, yes, I have a big library with a bunch of books I haven’t even read yet. I’m not a poser; I’m prepared. Always ready to feed the flames of my children’s imagination with a well-placed book, even if it’s one I haven’t gotten around to reading yet myself.
He enjoys his work as a doctor, and regaling the aforementioned youngsters with his terrible singing voice.
He is the author of The Expected One: Anticipating All of Jesus in the Advent, Mission Accomplished: A Two-Week Family Easter Devotional, and the illustrated children’s book, The Littlest Watchman.
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This is excellent! I feel much prouder of my library now…and feel less guilty about not parting with my books in the name of “simple living” — I think having a useful collection only enhances our family’s goal of avoiding technology for research and diving into studies together.
thank you allison! that’s a great way to think of it.
A Floridian in Alabama! Like my little brother in Anniston. Good article. Had the same experience with own homeschooled children. Good Work!
You have nailed it, indeed. I would only add that I keep them also to stoke my own curiosity. Of course, I’m an academic and a procrastinator. One would think that the Internet would satisfy both these needs, but no. When it comes to hardcore procrastination, the bookshelf remains KING!
Excellent post, Scott! Thank you. This is very helpful.
Great read!
Thinking again about this post as I drove home, I was reminded of the children’s book, “Tell Me Some More” by Crosby Newell Bonsall and illustrated by Fritz Siebel, in which one boy tells another that he knows a place where he can hold three camels in his hands or take a seal home and put it in his dad’s lap–he’s talking about a library. Loved that book as a kid!
http://theartofchildrenspicturebooks.blogspot.com/2011/10/tell-me-some-more.html
that looks like a great book—thanks for the rec!
I have an unhealthy ongoing obsession with building up my book collection for the enrichment of my (as yet non-existent) kids. There’s something about having a book collection that seems so important, even if largely symbolically. An unchanging record of people’s thoughts, discoveries and imaginings…
I love it. I keep getting rid of the ones I already read (that don’t make the cut) so I have more room for the ones I haven’t dug through yet.
As the sole dissenter (and a fellow Floridian), allow me to preach the virtues of The Middle Shelf. I’ll never go back to collecting books.
that cuts deep, loren. real deep. =)
i’m curious about your middle shelf methods, though. how do you keep resources handy?
XD
No cuts intended, sir. Honestly, I use my local library, inter-library loan, and Overdrive copiously. Also, my wife and kids don’t subscribe to the philosophy, as is evidence by their overflowing bookshelves. Which is probably good, because the little ones always have a new book at hand.
nice. we tend to use an all-of-the-above approach.
Good stuff. For what it’s worth, we spend so much time in the library that we probably get exposed to plenty second-hand inspiration.
This reminds me a lot of Steinbeck talking about the beginnings of his literary journey, stoked by his family having a lot of books that were kept behind the closed (glass) doors of a bookshelf. I don’t remember his exact quote, but it was something about how his family never discouraged him from reading, but they sort of left it to him. So for him having these books that were shut away turned it into a sort of secret joy only for him – discovered on his own in a thrill of opening the doors on the bookshelf and reading things like Mallory’s Arthurian legends. I’m butchering this all terribly, but anyone who’s read Travels With Charley will remember what I’m talking about (As a side note, I saw Rocinante at the Steinbeck museum in Salinas. Looks like a blast!) Thanks for the article, and for the encouragement to keep alive that same self-discovered joy in books that so many of us found ourselves.
I think this is fabulous! The real thing that grabbed me is the idea of curating a collection to foster curiosity. It may seem like hoarding books on one hand, but I feel like you could maintain a large library with care, culling books and adding others as you go along. I tend to buy books that I want around whether I have any intention of reading them *now* or not, which I’ve always joked about as presenting a bookshelf more erudite than I actually am, but even though I may be rationalizing, I really think it’s more along the lines of what you’ve said here – not just for my kids, but for myself. Sometimes that curiosity does strike, and it’s great to have a copy of Aeschylus or Kant right there to pull out. And I’m also glad I kept most of my old textbooks!
(I do my DVD/Blu-ray collecting similarly – some films that I love and return to again and again, but more films that I just want around for when my child is old enough to wonder “what’s that” and pull it out, or to share with others when my turn at movie night rolls around. I admit that I have seen most of the movies in my collection, but I buy more Criterions than fluff, whether I have plans to watch them immediately or not.)
I so identity with this post! I love reading and have a great fondness for books which always seem to be spilling out of the book cases. I was successful in nurturing this same love forward to my own children which has been a huge factor in their over all success in school and career. A nice book that will help in providing recommendations of books for children is, “Honey for a Child’s Heart” by Gladys Hunt. I also have a well stocked kindle which holds books that are in the “to be read” queue, but I think I still prefer to have a hard copy to hold in my hands with pencil/pen in hand to make notes.
Just got to this–thanks, Scott, for putting into words something I’ve always felt. We recently had to pack up a good portion of our home library and send it to visit my in-laws basement while my family lives overseas. I still packed many to bring, and the question from some was, “Why bring them all? Just get them on Kindle!” I could only say I loved them too much to leave them all, but this explains something more. Books on shelves are an invitation to explore. A Kindle doesn’t do that. It’s the reason why I love a hardbound dictionary to looking things up online. You never know where the search for a word will lead…. Now I’m wishing I hadn’t given in to the practicality of leaving our huge dictionary behind….
Thanks for a great article, Scott. I waver between hoarding books (according to my family) and guilt I have so many when others have so few. I know I am a little unusual in that I probably have over 100 file boxes full of books (not even discussing the ones on the shelves), and over 4,000 on my 2 Kindles.
I am an equal opportunity reader. Kindle or hard cover, doesn’t matter to me. I just HAVE TO HAVE 4-5 within arm reach at all times. In my purse, in my car, on my desk, by my easy chair, by the bed, and yes, in the bathroom.
I made a New Year resolution: get rid of some books. After hauling over 1,000 to my local library (they have a used book store to make money for the library), I haven’t really made a dent.
Of course I keep my favorites, ones I haven’t read (yet), resource/ reference books, and others that someone gave me as a gift that I really intend to read some day.
I am preparing for retirement or possible terrorist attack and no access to electricity or more books (thus the 4,000 on Kindle). No power? No problem. I have a solar charger for my Kindle. My worst nightmare: stuck somewhere with no book.
My son, the genius, says, “Mom, why do you need so many? If you read one a day, between your Kindle, your den, and your boxes, you probably have 20 years worth of books. If you retire at 70, how long do you plan to live?” My response: As long as I have a book to read every day! Hmmm…I may need a few more!
Years or Books?
Loved this! Thanks for sharing, man!