Personal Libraries

Every litblog on the Internet has already linked to Jay Parini's article in The Chronicle of Higher Education about other people's books, but being a book voyeur I can't resist quoting it myself:

It's not only the physical aspects of books that attract me, of course. In fact, I rarely buy first or elegant editions, however much I like to glance at them; good reading copies, in hardback or a decent paperback, are just fine. But seeing some of the editions in my living room reminds me of that wonderful house in Surrey, which stirred my imagination as a young man and was part of the reason I became a writer myself.

What interests me about other people's books is the nature of their collection. A personal library is an X-ray of the owner's soul. It offers keys to a particular temperament, an intellectual disposition, a way of being in the world. Even how the books are arranged on the shelves deserves notice, even reflection. There is probably no such thing as complete chaos in such arrangements.

I've gone through numerous iterations of organizing my books, splitting into genres, then alphabatized by author, even split into publication by century at one point. Sometimes I think the books look better with the dust jackets on. Sometimes I think they look better without them, as Harvard has them in Widener Library, so I'll spend an hour and remove hundreds of dust jackets and store them separately. Not many people likely spend as much time sitting in front of their own books, but however one treats one's books tells a little story.