Topic: Books

Author: Chris Dunn

“Books are shit.”

I was absolutely shocked! I couldn’t believe he had said it. This was Karl, after all. Karl, who was responsible for half the books in my personal lexicon. Karl whose taste had informed mine since puberty. He’d recommend authors, I would read them. He’d loan me books, sometimes at the point of insistence. “Here, you need to read this.” I would eye his bookshelf and try to decipher what secrets he was hiding. Why had he never offered those books? He’d brought me Elric of Melnibone. He’d introduced me to Nine Princes in Amber. And here he was, with no real passion in his voice, his words just falling dead as if from a spiritless shadow, declaring it as simple fact, ‘Books are shit.”

It was such an odd turn, I had to unpack it. Karl had only recently landed what, to us, had seemed a dream job, working at Half-Price books. We’re talking rows and rows of books and RPG gaming supplies, DVDs and more. He’d have first crack at everything coming in and an employee discount on top of that! Soon he would have the richest, fullest library, and perhaps, I might gain some small measure of spill-off volumes for my own shelves. How had this dream turned nightmare? Whence came this dark cloud?

It turns out, it’s a little like asking someone who loves steak to work in a slaughterhouse. The first day, he explained, they sat him down to watch training videos. The first was titled, “For All Those Books…?!” It detailed how every day, sometimes several times in a day, someone would walk in with a box (or boxes) – the collection of a lifetime – expecting to be made whole, to find the answer to their current, financial woes on the shelves of their years, and it would be his job to tell them the harsh truth. They would not get half of half-price. They would be lucky to get one-tenth of half-price, and here was why. The video went on to explain, what would become his life for the next few months, forking over a few dollars, grabbing the rare re-sellable tome from the pile, and then chucking the rest in the dumpster outback – a dumpster often filled to the brim already with other people’s once cherished possessions. It did not take long for this practice to remove all the former magic that obtaining the latest work from his favorite authors had once kindled in his heart. Books were no longer special. The pang he felt for those books lying unread and headed for the incinerator, had to be muted and killed just to get through the day. It was a sad sight to see, like Tinkerbell’s dimming glow after drinking poison. I resolved never to work that close to the publishing industry! I would keep my love alive.

Recently, my father passed away, and I was faced with the actualization of a gnawing suspicion which had itched at the back of my mind for most of my life, what to do with ALL of his books – 6,000+ at my brother’s estimation, over 100 full shelves at my count. Even after all of his children and grandchildren and extended family took everything they wanted, there were still a numbing number of books to deal with. We held an open house, invited everyone on our lists and sat for hours as booklovers poured over his mighty works, most leaving with a box full to add to their own growing hoards. (Karl among them) Still, I had to go up the next day and box up the shipment for the library. We used all the boxes they provided, all the boxes my brother had on hand, and had to buy several more to carry the remainder.

So, how… How do I avoid Karl’s grim pronouncement? How do I avoid that very logical despair? I just have to work to remember the joy in the man’s eyes every time he opened a box from Amazon as if it was a gift from the universe just for him. Remember how he delighted whenever one of my own titles arrived with their glossy covers. He was my editor and my greatest supporter. I asked him as I was growing up in the shadow of those towering bookshelves, “How can you possibly read all these books?” And he’d explain, “Oh, most of these aren’t ‘reading’ books. These are ‘buying and having’ books.” So, even though there is no room in my home for all those tomes, I’ll box them up and ship them to the Friends of Library, confident in my imagination that they will find new, happy homes.

Clap your hands with me if you believe in books!