The most prominent feature of my bedroom is my bookshelves, it always has been. I collect books that I read, books I have read, books I want to read and even books that could be a good reference in the future. My love of books borders on an obsession. Books hold all the knowledge I could learn in a lifetime. Books hold all the adventures a gal like me could want, and I can still remain in the comfort of my bed.
One of my first memories revolves around books. I snuck into my parents’ library and looked at all the big books I would one day read. I pulled out a leather bound tome and flipped it open to see a black and white illustration of a sea creature and ship. Now that I look back, I know it was 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne, but back then it was the physical embodiment of adventure.
As I look upon my books I feel a warmth spread through my chest and radiate outward. The warmth is like a small sun burning from my core that is ignited by the written word. Every individual book I own represents a certain time in my life, a certain decision or a certain event. The books were always there when I needed them. I realize as I type this it is clear that my love of books is indeed an obsession but I do not care. I also realize that the comfort I get from inanimate objects that are simply tree pulp dried and pressed with squiggly lines is probably misplaced. It is sad that the warm feeling inside is not triggered by anything or anybody else but all I can say is that all of my books will stay with me. It is an obsession because I collect and hoard my books; I treat them with love. When traveling my first concern is for the physical safety of the books I have brought. Now I know what some people say, they say that I am not so different, but let me ask you this. Have you even saran wrapped a book to keep the corners neat? My obsession is not detrimental to me, it expands my mind.
Knowing that a book is at hand to inform and entice is comforting. To me a book is not just an escape from boredom but a prized life tool. With the right book you can learn what ever your heart desires. With the right book you can feel any emotion without the mentally scarring damage that would come if you were just like a character in a story. For Example my favorite book is The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde, but I could not imagine the distress someone would be under if they knew what their soul looked like. Dorian Grey finds out because his portrait ages and he does not. By the end Dorian’s only remaining friend, Lord Henry, is not the kind of person I would want around me. He is superficial and vulgar just for the reaction.
For me it is good to touch on these strong emotions without having to dwell or live in them. In many ways reading fiction allows me to stay grounded because the extreme stories I read put my life in perspective.
In the end, I hope my collection of books reflects my desire to be a well-rounded and well-versed person. I want it to show insight into me just like the library at my Great Grandmothers house does. Even though I have never met her I feel a connection when I fall asleep next to the shelves she filled. She chose every book on those shelves and they represent her lifetime. Leaving behind a beautiful library would be leaving behind an important part of myself, a way to make myself immortal. I do not think there is a person on this earth who has not thought about their legacy. After all, men want their family name to continue on through the birth of a son. Is my desire to leave a library as a legacy not so different?
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