My apartment is 60% books. I don’t have enough bookshelves, I have most loaded to the point where they are bending and there are piles of books stacked on top. Stacks and stacks and stacks.
I think my library is almost an art project at this point. I thrift a lot, check out library discard sales and have a bunch of things I bought when you could get books on Amazon for a penny + shipping. I often pick up 5-10 a week, because at the thrift shop that’s maybe $10 at most. (Goodwill is getting precious, but the really ratty ones are often prime spots.)
Very little fiction. Mostly textbooks and history and language and arcane computer things and strange religious literature and philosophy and paranormal arcana. Obscure things - I mostly collect things that I wouldn’t normally be able to find in a library.
My ex hated my books and wanted to work out a deal where I’d have to give up two for every one I took in. Now I am free to live in a pile of stacks. I don’t care if it looks “messy” or “cluttered.” It represents my mind.
A buddy called me to fix some plumbing in a house he baught , he said the previous owners were hoarders. So I went over and the whole fucking basement was wall to wall book shelves with fucking isles!
He said the lady that owned the house was some eccentric type that hung out in NY back in the 50’s around artists and writers, traveling the world etc. her husband was some sort of critic and they liked books.
I asked what he was doing with it all and he said he sold the contents of the house sight unseen to some guy that wanted it all and was going to be arriving any minute but if I wanted anything to take it now. My brain was scrambling, I didn’t want to be a dick so I just grabbed two books; Tropic of Cancer and Future Shock ( and a bunch of lab equipment that was in a secretive back room lol). They were both first edition books and had newspaper clippings about Miller and Toffler among other reviews that were stuffed in the pages.
It was crazy because they had so much bad ass shit , old leather bound stuff etc. It was just too much to process and I hope it didn’t all wind up in a dumpster. I wish I could have spent a few days pillaging those shelves.
A goal of mine is to ensure that my library is preserved in some fashion after I die, because I do believe it would be valuable. Many of the books I have are out of print, rare, and obscure. I have a fantasy of a library room set aside with my collection - a couple of comfortable chairs in a little nook.
Especially with the way that AI has polluted information sources online, I think having a collection of the printed word which is guaranteed to be vetted and written by humans would be useful. The religious material I think also could be helpful in preserving history - eg, I have versions of Mormon books which are likely not consistent with current doctrine.
My apartment is 60% books. I don’t have enough bookshelves, I have most loaded to the point where they are bending and there are piles of books stacked on top. Stacks and stacks and stacks.
I think my library is almost an art project at this point. I thrift a lot, check out library discard sales and have a bunch of things I bought when you could get books on Amazon for a penny + shipping. I often pick up 5-10 a week, because at the thrift shop that’s maybe $10 at most. (Goodwill is getting precious, but the really ratty ones are often prime spots.)
Very little fiction. Mostly textbooks and history and language and arcane computer things and strange religious literature and philosophy and paranormal arcana. Obscure things - I mostly collect things that I wouldn’t normally be able to find in a library.
My ex hated my books and wanted to work out a deal where I’d have to give up two for every one I took in. Now I am free to live in a pile of stacks. I don’t care if it looks “messy” or “cluttered.” It represents my mind.
A buddy called me to fix some plumbing in a house he baught , he said the previous owners were hoarders. So I went over and the whole fucking basement was wall to wall book shelves with fucking isles!
He said the lady that owned the house was some eccentric type that hung out in NY back in the 50’s around artists and writers, traveling the world etc. her husband was some sort of critic and they liked books.
I asked what he was doing with it all and he said he sold the contents of the house sight unseen to some guy that wanted it all and was going to be arriving any minute but if I wanted anything to take it now. My brain was scrambling, I didn’t want to be a dick so I just grabbed two books; Tropic of Cancer and Future Shock ( and a bunch of lab equipment that was in a secretive back room lol). They were both first edition books and had newspaper clippings about Miller and Toffler among other reviews that were stuffed in the pages.
It was crazy because they had so much bad ass shit , old leather bound stuff etc. It was just too much to process and I hope it didn’t all wind up in a dumpster. I wish I could have spent a few days pillaging those shelves.
At least when you die and archeologist find your trove we’ll be able to deep learn your stack in order to recreate a cyber you.
A goal of mine is to ensure that my library is preserved in some fashion after I die, because I do believe it would be valuable. Many of the books I have are out of print, rare, and obscure. I have a fantasy of a library room set aside with my collection - a couple of comfortable chairs in a little nook.
Especially with the way that AI has polluted information sources online, I think having a collection of the printed word which is guaranteed to be vetted and written by humans would be useful. The religious material I think also could be helpful in preserving history - eg, I have versions of Mormon books which are likely not consistent with current doctrine.