Ripped directly from Mattheous, who’s just started hanging around here at the Nook, who found it here.
Daniel Pennac’s
The Reader’s Bill of Rights
1. The right to not read
2. The right to skip pages
3. The right to not finish
4. The right to reread
5. The right to read anything
6. The right to escapism
7. The right to read anywhere
8. The right to browse
9. The right to read out loud
10. The right to not defend your tastes
As the New Year approaches, some people like to think of ways to better their lives, and to some, that means reducing clutter.
But to declutter books — is that really something a book lover wants to do? No, I don’t think so…but the reality is that sometimes we may have to do it.
Over at 43Folders is a post about this very topic, with a link to the original source, a question and long series of rather good answers at Ask Metafilter on “Advice for clearing literary clutter” — although, for me, the asker loses some credibility for even thinking of the phrase “literary clutter”!
What do you think, O Loyal Reader? Is there such a thing as ‘literary clutter’? What does it look like to you? What do you do about it?
Or, as is the point, what are you planning on doing in the New Year to clear some space on your bookshelves (to make room for new books in 2008)?
I’m not a hit hound by any means, but I do check them, just to see. And the most popular page on this blog is the space where we were discussing The Fifth Business.
Okay, so it’s not popular by some standards, but on my little blog, it continuously tops my hit chart with between 3 & 29 hits per day. And search terms like:
And those are only today and yesterday.
The frequency started once school started. With all this traffic, I’ve only had 2 of these students stay and comment. (Am I wrong in assuming they’re students?) In my day, I would have been searching card catalogues, and journals, hoping for a tidbit. Now, they comb the Internet for their research. I wonder if any of our comments here have been cited in a paper somewhere?
The mind boggles.
But I was thinking of you all on Friday, when I found a delightful treasure in my local secondhand bookstore: Robertson Davies: An Appreciation, edited by Elspeth Cameron. A book of essays collected and published in 1991.
For your delectation then, are some of the ideas thrown out by different commentators as Davies’ books were coming out:
So, reading these essays has been quite fun, and now I have to go back and read the damn books again! Ideas that I want to look into myself.
Okay, so you’re writing an essay and you Google your way to this post. I won’t leave you empty-handed, so here are some things to explore further:
And do some research in a good library, not looking for the quick answer on the Internet.
Well, Booktalk.org is at it again. This time, one of the books is Deep Economy: The Wealth of Communities and the Durable Future by Bill McKibben. (Here’s the link to the Booktalk.org discussion forum.)
This one is hitting me close to home. I worked the opening day of the local Farmers’ Market (I’m the manager), came home, and picked up Deep Economy to read McKibben’s discussion on farmers’ markets — and the studied fact that people have 10 more social interactions there than they do in a supermarket.
I could’ve told him that!!
McKibben believes in communities — the idea that as individuals we make decisions that (seem to) affect only us, but with an awareness of our community, we make decisions that have deeper consequences. [It's a big book, lots of ideas, and I'm writing this in an office with no circulation on a hot day at 6 p.m.. Bear with me on my simplistic synopses. 
]
For example, if I’m just thinking of myself, then I’ll go to the local Walmart and buy the cheapest coffee on the shelf. But, if I were aware of my local community, I’d go to the grocery store in town that may have a higher price tag, but where I know that the management cares about their staff and pay good wages. If I were thinking of the broader community, I’d go out of my way to buy fair trade, shade-grown coffee, and by-pass the big corporations abusing the people of the coffee-growing nations. But, if I were really thinking of the greater community, I’d stop drinking coffee altogether, as the fossil fuels needed to bring that coffee to me, no matter how it’s grown, are damaging our environment. (Plus, they’re running out. Might as well overcome the coffee addiction now, before I’m forced to, down the road!)
This is a huge discussion…that I don’t feel like undertaking at this moment. Perhaps in the comments??
I was just reading one of Archie’s latest posts, on the book Cloudstreet, by Tim Winton.
I’ve never heard of it…and Archie’s review makes the book sound interesting, but what was most interesting to me was his personal identification with it. It’s about his childhood home, and essentially about his life.
I heard about “Cloudstreet” when it was first released. I chose not to read it because what interest could there be in the streets I knew, in the people I knew? I finally decided to read it. It was a task done slowly as I relived so much of my own life.
I too, would hesitate to read something that potentially reflected so much of my life. What if it brought up bad memories? What if the writer hadn’t seen what I saw? What if…?
The closest to this I have ever come is reading Tom Robbins’ book Skinny Legs and All on a beach on the Sunshine Coast of BC. I was spinning with the carnival that summer, and when I got to the description of Randolf “Boomer” Petway, I almost threw the book in the drink…it was Willie the Welder, the man I was currently involved with:
Randolf “Boomer” Petway was a welder by trade. He was seven years older than Ellen Cherry Charles. He was husky, dark, and, in a broad-faced, silly-grinned, thuggish sort of way, handsome. He drank a lot, guffawed a lot, and walked with a moderate limp, a piece of equipment having crushed his anklebone in the welding shop. In spite of the lameness, he boogied to country-rock more flamboyantly than any man in east-central Virginia. Some dance critic, who worked behind the bar in a honky-tonk, said that when Boomer danced he looked like a monkey on roller skates juggling razor bladse in a hurricane.
“He’s a complete idiot,” reported Ellen Cherry to Patsy, “but I have to admit he’s a hill of fun.”
The sex was similar too. :p
Anyone else out there find their lives in a book?
It’s weird. Suddenly I’m busy in my life, and I don’t have as much time to read. Or, when I do read, I’m re-reading some calming bit of fluff for the umpteenth time, just to relax.
And, right now, I’m re-reading my Davies. Of course.
One thing I really love about his writing is his own erudition. He is unabashed about letting his own stuff into his writing.
And it’s inspiring. As a direct result of his writing, I have books on my shelf about saints, psychology, and art forgery, to name a few.
So, the question today: Whose writing inspired you this way?
I really want to know.
If you’re observant, you’ll see that I’ve added a new page. It includes some links to learn about the fabulous Robertson Davies, but more importantly, I’ll add some sub-pages to start some informal Davies dialogues.
Join me there.
Suggestions for the first book to discuss in the comments!!
Okay, we’re up. Go to the my Robertson Davies page, and you’ll see a link to the discussion of The Fifth Business.
At any given moment, I could have 10 books on the go — science fiction, poetry, a cultural history, a childhood favourite…I love the unknown of a new book, the comfort of an old friend. Who knows what’s next?
