Can't. Just. Stop.

 

Sharon Begley, Can't. Just. Stop.: An Investigation of Compulsions, Simon & Schuster, 2017.

Although I mercilessly cull old clothing, papers and even books (donating them to the local library), I keep these things, and a few others, because they connect me to people and times I will never see again. They are little tiles in the mosaic of personal identity. Our stuff expands that identity, deepens the meaning of our lives, provides security, and attaches us to our own past as well as to a world beyond ourselves. [p. 203]

COMMENT

   This library anecdote comes from a chapter on Compulsive Hoarding.  The word "bibliomania" specifically refers to book hoarding.  Hoarding is driven not so much by greed for stuff as by an ability to imagine something potentially useful in each hoarded object.  Begley describes one Victorian bibliomaniac, Thomas Phillipps (1792-1872), who was driven by anxiety at seeing the destruction of books dismantled for their gold inlays.  In his old age, Phillipps wanted to sell his collection to the British national library, but the librarians were not interested. Ironically, the immense hoarded collection did, in fact, save books that would otherwise have been lost or destroyed.  Some of these books eventually ended up in libraries and archives.

    The emotional value of books is something some librarians refuse to take seriously.  Begley describes how she hangs on to certain sentimental objects from the past, but is able to let go books go since they are going to support a good cause (the library).  In Carbon Ideologies Vol. II, William Vollmann writes "Of all things I owned I valued most my books.  I hoped that someone would use them after me." [p. 629]

   In another blog post (What to Do With the Stuff That's Cluttering Your Home) I talk about a library administrator who thought the library booksale was "inefficient."  This man openly mocked the emotional and sentimental attachment that people have to books, and fairly often the literature of librarianship similarly ridicules love of books, particularly when people object to weeding projects.  These librarians are surprised and offended when their patrons oppose throwing out books of little value in order to make space for things that are likely to be used more often.  They accuse patrons who oppose weeding of being, essentially, hoarders.  Yet the fact that something has seen little use in the past says nothing at all about its value in the future.  One recurring library anecdote tells of discovering hidden treasure in dusty stacks.  When the dusty stacks are thrown away, the hidden treasure goes with them.

     The problem as I see it is that typical library weeding policies define only what is bad and valueless, but not what is good and worth keeping. Denigrating whole shelves of books as worthless actually is offensive to anyone who values literacy, scholarship and education.  On the other hand, a policy that described how to find and save hidden treasures would go a long way towards reassuring people that librarians are making honest and well-considered decisions about how to clear out the clutter.