I once had a 12th edition Ulysses, Shakespeare and Company, pages uncut. And a 1st, signed, of Ellman’s James Joyce. I had all of Paul Auster’s and Russell Hoban’s novels, firsts, signed. Had three shelves of Joyceana, about two thirds of it firsts.
Re: libraries. The above nostalgia was when I had a book fetish. I managed, with some withdrawal symptoms, to lick that horrid addiction (I sympathize with you, Lissa, though you stole the first four letters of my name, making it necessary for me to type in my whole name for a vanity search) and am now a library geek.
When I was hoarding books, each book literally had fetishistic value. Like Lissa, once I’d read a book, the book represented a kind of material embodiment of the experience of reading it: each book is a souvenir of the journey I’d made through it. As such, I needed to keep it, to cherish it, as an object. You miss that physical aspect of a book when you take it out from the library.
Or so I thought. I was wrong. Libary books are still somehow materially important to the reading experience, but now that physical connection is a different one: it’s a connection of community. When I was a bookrat, each book was mine and mine alone, and was the mystical repository of my experience of reading it. When I started reading library books, I found it was just as rewarding and pleasurable to hold and experience each book as the mysticl repository of that special group of readers with whom I now had this book in common. When I occasionally reread a Lagerkvist or a Laxness or an Undset, books in which I have lived as deeply, if not more so, as I live in the “real world,” it’s comforting–almost thrilling–to sense that I am not alone in that experience. That this book I am holding, in which I am living while I read it, has offered the same kind of refuge or adventure or solace to a few other fellow human beings.
Each book, now, feels like a friend, rather than a possession. I couldn’t imagine ever going back to the narrowly gratifying but ultimately lonely fetish of being the sole owner of each book I read.