Why books are like a box of chocolates. Or, really, on my wacky book acquiring tendencies.

[amari_z]

I was just reading the review in The New Yorker of The Landmark Herodotus and drooling (not over the review, but over the book). The book has been on my most wanted list since it was announced, and I put off my rereading of Herodotus for it. But, although it was released last November, I don’t own it. Why isn’t this book already mine? No paperback edition yet.

I’m a sucker for books. (See, e.g., Big List of Shame.) I read them in some abundance, buy them in even greater abundance, and covet them, dare I say, perhaps more than chocolate. But, like chocolate, giving in to temptation has its downside: for one, it’s the expanding of the flesh (stupid body), for the other, it’s the lack of expandability of my apartment (stupid apartment). For me, despite all the reading I obviously do on the internet, and how convenient and easy it is to read and store things electronically, nothing compares to the physicality of holding a book; I want to hold it, I want to flip through the pages (and read out of order), I want to own it and carry it around and put it somewhere where I can later stumble across it (to really understand that you've got to see my double layer, double height shelving system). Still, if Amazon started providing an electronic version free with every physical book purchased, they’d have my money for a kindle in a second, despite its first generation over-priced ugliness. Best of both worlds.

Most people I’ve met who like books want hardbacks. Back before I started working (and had time, but no money), I did too. Hardbacks, after all, meant getting a new book as soon as it was published, and it was a hardback, and therefore inherently better.

But now that I can buy hardbacks (there would be little reason to work if not for books, except, you know, food and stuff), I still don’t buy hardbacks, with certain few exceptions. I actually find I don’t like hardbacks. Let us count the reasons why (oh let's!). One, they are more expensive (aka why buy one book when you can have two). Two, I carry my books around with me, and I pretty much walk and take public transport everywhere, so weight is important (the LMH is a massive tome). Three, there’s the unmiraculous unexpanding apartment issue, and hardbacks take up more space. Four, I’m so behind on reading that it no longer matters as much to me to get a book right when it’s published—when I do buy the occasional hardback, it usually sits unread until the paperback is out anyway. Five, and probably most influential, I just don’t like how most hardbacks actually feel. Most covers are little more than flimsy cardboard. (My shallowness on the appearance/feel issue extends to the point to where, despite how most of the above arguments would apply equally to picking a pocket paperback over a trade paperback, I never do that.)

There are exceptions. I will buy hardbacks when I like the feel of them. The main example is the Everyman’s Library. I love them both for their history and for the lovely clothbound feel. In a nice side effect of my baser tendencies, my infatuation with these books has led me to read or reread some classics that I might not have otherwise have picked up. The other major exception is the Modern Library Chronicles hardback editions, which I think I’ve mentioned before. Many of these are also cloth bound and they’re small, so easy to carry, and I love the concept of having luminaries in a field write short introductory histories on the topics of their expertise (can’t wait for Achebe's work on Africa, which has been promised, but has yet to show any signs of coming into existence).

I do wonder though whether I’m doing myself a disservice by preferring paperbacks. I’m a rereader; even though I rarely have time to reread anymore, I hoard my books and envision myself with time to leisurely peruse them all again someday. I’d hate to finally have time to read (someday?) and find that my books are all yellow and crumbly.

(I also, btw, have a lot of good quality chocolate in my apartment, although, like the majority of the books I buy these days, I haven't gotten around to consuming it. It's supposedly for guests or gifts, or maybe I'll eat some it someday when I'm off my current meal plan, but, really, I just like buying it. It'll probably go bad before I do anything with it. There's most likely some connection here.)