What to do when your shelves don’t reflect you anymore.
I have mentioned my unhealthy attachment to books before, even suggested that I might be slowly getting over it (it’s wishful thinking, don’t listen to me). Others who love books will understand that I usually care about them more than anyone should care about an inanimate object. However, a lot of my books will never be read again, either because they are old and I’ve moved on from them, or because I did not enjoy them enough the first time around to reread them, and so I’m struggling to figure out why I still have them.
So consumed I’ve been by unsettling thoughts of my overstocked shelves, that I started to wonder why personal libraries exist in the first place. I’m aware that books were not originally mass produced in the way they are today but often one of a kind, sometimes in words as well as design. It would have made more sense, then, for such rare items to be kept as a point of pride and even handed down through generations. Nowadays, however, books are available to buy far more cheaply that they’re mass produced, and libraries give most people access to reading as they would not have when buying books was barred by wealth.
This got me to thinking about why I keep books and if there’s any reason at all beyond decoration. It just seems natural to me, the act of buying a book, (potentially) reading it, and allowing it a space on my shelves, for what could be eternity. My parents have shelves stocked with books that span nearly forty years, catering to their own children as well as grandchildren, but why did they keep all these books in the first place? I don’t think I’ve ever questioned this before, but I’ve also never gone longer than about a year without rearranging my own shelves out of necessity. So, what is it about looking at my shelves now that makes me cringe rather than recall fond memories? And why can my parents willingly leave their shelves virtually untouched for years when I get the urge to redo them so often?
The State of My Shelves
When it comes to my shelves, I’m usually more on top of getting rid of them when I realise that I have no reason at all to keep them. However, I’ve yet to deal with my shelves this time around and I almost can’t stand the sight of them. I’m at the point where a lot of the books I have on my shelf meant something to me at one point in my life, but they no longer do. Instead of looking at them with fondness, I feel irritated.
I want to make room on my shelves to reflect my current tastes, but I find myself asking, am even I ready to do that? One of my shelves has only ever been added to, considering it holds the condensed version of the books I read across my teenage years and the first couple of years of my twenties and did not immediately get rid of. Considering what it means to say goodbye to them now gives me pause. This set of shelves is organised in a colour-coordinated fashion too, and the thought of tearing it apart breaks the heart of the sixteen-year-old me that started it off. However, even though the shelves bring me joy, I’m wondering if I might benefit from doing something different.
Why It’s Bothering Me So Much
In an ideal world, my shelves would reflect my current tastes at all times. I would be able to point any visitors to books I enjoyed, books I’m excited to read, and books I was given by friends. Right now, a lot of the connections I had to my books have been lost, and I’m essentially apathetic towards them. In my head, rearranging them will ensure that I’m excited about my books again and in turn, excited about reading again. Usually, I can justify why I have so many books when really, they’re just glorified clutter. Now, I can hardly even convince myself they are not.
All I’m left with is questions: Why do I have so many books? Why did I buy so many books? Why haven’t I gotten rid of these before? Is this habit of mine wasteful?
Using my e-reader a lot has probably influenced these new thoughts that have hardly ever crossed my mind before. Now that most of my books are contained to one place, and I don’t see a lot of the things I’ve read over the past year on my shelves, I’m think it bothers me that they don’t feel like my collection anymore. I’m not as attached to my physical shelves as I am my digital ones. In fact, my bookstagram page feels more like a shelf than the library on my Kindle or my shelves in real life.
What I Plan To Do
What’s clear to me is that I need to assess what I want to keep and what I want to get rid of or donate, and then re-evaluate the organisation of my shelves. When we feel stuck, we need change, and I think organising my shelves in a new way is exactly what I need. Some of them have been organised the same way for years, after all.
For me, bookshelves should be like a shrine to the books and authors you love, otherwise they do start to feel like just decorations. You should not feel obligated to keep books that you didn’t enjoy, or that you can’t find a good reason for keeping any longer. It might be difficult to choose which books are more important, but I’m not going to get anywhere without being a little bit uncomfortable. I’m always changing, and I need to make sure my shelves reflect that, and potentially provide an update when I do.
… I just need to find the time to do it.
Read 'N Riot 