Flotsam

How will you go?

How will you go?

Drive through the wind and the rain

Cover it up

Cover it up

I'll find you a shelter to sleep in

And you know I'll be fine

Just don't ask me how it's going

Gimme time, gimme time

Cos I want you to see

Round the world, round the world

Is a tangled up necklace of pearls

-Crowded House

After putting books into paper bags for the used book store and sorting through the shelves, I found myself singing this song out of nowhere. Then I remembered the bookmarks I'd pulled out before setting books aside for sale. 

I love finding the random notes and bits of life that I end up using to mark my place. I don't like to dog-ear books and there's usually some scrap or note hanging about waiting to be useful. This photograph is of a few bits: an old Starbucks napkin, an ancient bank deposit envelope, and the 1996 receipt for the Crowded House CD that this song is on, Woodface. I love this track! 

Past is Prologue

Today is book organization day, a fine opportunity to take up this long-neglected blog project as well. An organizational endeavor feels auspicious. Occasionally I will probably write here about other interests (knitting, photography, my town) if for no other reason than to include pictures, which will keep things from getting too deadly dull.

I’ve fiddled with the title a bit. I recognize that Reduced to Literature (RTL) may be odd and obscure, but I think it suits me and it’s from one of my favorite books. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I like it. A Room with a View is a book I’ve only read as an adult, yet it possesses qualities that fired my love of reading in the first place: humor and a love of language. I watched the movie when I was in high school, but for some reason only read A Passage to India in college even though I was a Lit major. Go figure.

My small apartment is covered, as much as possible, with bookshelves. It’s taken some time but finally all the books are up—all 20+ boxes worth, from college texts (e.g. Unthinking Eurocentrism) to Harry Potter (Why are they're only three four? What happened to the others? This is disturbing.) to knitting books (My goodness, they don’t even fill one shelf. What restraint!).

I find looking up and seeing the colorful spines and bold authoritative or dramatic titles (Noble House, World Cinema, In Cold Blood) satisfying. Right now, however, there are too many and they are up there in any ol’ fashion sans rhyme or reason. They mock my latent OCD tendencies (very latent). While there may be a certain resonance from having Hitchen’s Letters to a Young Contrarian next to Palahnuk’s Fight Club and Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book next to Campbell’s The Power of Myth, they don’t belong there. I’m all for inclusion, just not on my bookshelves.

Speaking of too many, today is also book-culling day. *Sigh* I don't like the thought of letting books go. Whether they represent fallen aspirations or just younger days, I connect with them, and they shape how I connect with my world. On the up side: sending some away means making room for others. This is always a good thing. A new book is a new direction, a new lease on life—I”ll be smarter, I’ll be happier. Oy, perhaps I need to start working my way through our books on Buddhism.

Of course the books aren't just mine. I live with my husband (Mr. RTL) and while several will go out the door, many will return over that same threshold as one or both of us get caught up in a new passion or a lark. We do own a kindle and have long enjoyed books on tape/audible, but I know something happens to me when I'm near a bookstore. I'm drawn in and captivated by the covers, the titles, the enticing descriptions: the possibilities. God help me if there's a sale table. Mr. RTL isn’t much better—perhaps more focused, certainly not more restrained. Amazon is my pusher.

Now my task is to categorize, to bring reason and structure to colorful chaos. This is the fun part. I’ll devise the categories, the sort-of structure that will march the books into place and, hopefully, answer the perennial question, “Now, where did I put that book?”

Categories:

• Fiction (with some probably sub-categories)
• Philosophy and Religion
• Law
• Reference
• Plays and Poetry
• Criticism
• Cultural Studies
• Art
• Writing
• Travel
• History
• San Francisco
• War and International Affairs
• Humor
• Science
• Biography and Memoir
• Household
• Non-Fiction

With the final catchall category of “non-fiction,” I think I’ve got everything just about covered. Of course, this doesn’t even include the books on cooking, blacksmithing and knitting. Those are other matters entirely.

Back to knitting. . .