The LA Times reports on those poor "book people" who collect and collect and collect.
For the bibliophile, what to do with the books is life's central decorating issue, an ongoing discourse, a debate, and often an outright décor war, between aesthetics, the practicalities of storage and the consuming mindlessness of passion.
The roots of that passion are simple. To these readers, books aren't mere objects but possessions that carry intensely personal memories: where they were purchased, who the reader was while reading them, how they changed his or her life. They carry a weight of history.
Exactly. Except, unlike some of the people in this article, I am able to distinguish between the truly weighty and the peewee. The latter, I move on out. Even so, I face the same dilemma discussed in the article: where to put books when you have a lot of them. I'm always wondering "How come other people's homes look so spacious and clean? Oh, because they're missing all the books."
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