Book fetish

I'd like to come clean for the record....

I have a book fetish.

I love books. I love to buy them, look through them, smell them, read them, look at them lining my bookshelves, on my nightstand, on the floor...wherever. I went to my local dealer tonight (Borders) and bought a few. I was jonesin' for some books. I love them when they're new, with unbroken bindings. They have such interesting covers, such intriguing titles, and all of them have received rave reviews...at least that's what the back cover says.

I love how they smell. Yes, books smell. I often put my nose right up to the pages and smell that musky smell that the pages make as they flip past between my fingers, one by one like dominos. You know the smell.

Do I need a support group for that?

Books make me feel smart. I love having books around because it signals the *potential* for me to become smarter, to have a new experience through words and the meaning they create. Sometimes they make me feel disappointment because there are so many staring back at me, longing for me to pick them up and finally read them. Sometimes they make me feel content in knowing that they are patiently waiting for me. Some of them are old friends that have been read multiple times, with writing and highlighting along the borders, tattered pages, or the occassional spot where I spilled my coffee while trying to multitask. Some of them are only acquaintances I picked up because they had a shiny cover.

Books are sort of like wine, I guess. You have to pick the right one for the right moment. Some people have simple palates, some more complex. Some prefer trashy romance novels (the wine spritzer drinkers), some the latest Jeff Foxworthy "You know you're a redneck if..." book (the Franzia drinkers--if Budweiser made a wine, they'd drink that, too), some the non-fiction historical piece written by some stuffy Harvard professor (the French Bordeaux 1960 vintage drinkers). Most of us are somewhere in between. Some of us like to dabble across the board.

Books are also a sort of time stamp. You have to be ready for a book to truly get the most out of it. For instance, I wasn't ready to read Noam Chomsky 10 years ago when my Dad was ranting and raving about it. But maybe I am now. What I also like is that the meaning I get out of a book changes each time I read it. I like to read "Tuesdays with Morrie" every few years because I get something different out of it each time--it says something just a bit different because I see something new in it each time, something I didn't see or wasn't ready to see the last time I read it. I like that books also track where I've been and where I'm going. I have books that are gifts from loved ones. I have a Jewel poetry book (back off!) from my tumultuous high school years--I liked to read it while listening to some equally-depressing Sarah McLachlan music (her early stuff, like Solace). I have servant leadership books that marked my studies of leadership and community service during college. I have books that mark a specific day, like the time I got Bobby Knight to sign his autobiography in Indianapolis. (He signed it but didn't scream and throw a metal folding chair at me--I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed.) These books describe my past interests and things I'm not ready to let go of, although they are opened less frequently now. I have some books that represent my current life and interests, like anything about feminism, social psychological methods or research (boring!), and the occassional fictional read. And some represent ideas or things I'd like to start thinking and doing more about in the future, like feminist theology. In some ways then, books mark your life, sort of like a visual diary. Sometimes the trajectory is steady and deliberate. Sometimes you stumble across something at a used bookstore or you receive a new book from a friend, and it totally alters the future of your book collection. It totally alters your collection and you.

So although they may sit there and stare at me, collecting dust as I have way too many other things to do than pick them up, my books are waiting patiently. And now they have more friends to keep them company.

So, there...I've said it. My name is Martha and I have a book fetish.