Unwanted Books...

Unwanted books...

Somehow, reading, blogging, and life in general, seems to have got out of routine in recent months while I’ve been backwards and forwards to see my mother. I did manage to get the Internet up and running last time I was there, but the connection in her part of Herefordshire is dire. And in any case, when I am there I would much rather sit and chat to her, and get her to tell me about her childhood, or discuss books or something. What would be the point of going to see my lovely mum, then ignoring her, and spending all my time on the computer? But I can’t back into the swing of things when I’m back home either!

Anyway, I returned from a visit earlier this month with a box of old books she no longer needs  – volumes of poetry, cookery, history and needlework dating back to the 1930s and earlier, as well as some fabulous 19^th century books about flowers, with the  most incredible illustrations. Some of them belonged to her mother, and I can remember many of them from my childhood, so obviously, I want to keep them all, but finding shelf space was a problem, because we seem to have reached overload, and there is no more room.

More unwanted books...

 So I forced myself to have a cull, and I’ve weeded out two carrier bags of novels I know I will never read again. I hate getting rid of books, even those I don’t like, but sometimes it has to be done, and I’ve freed up space for the new arrivals, which is good. It’s so difficult clearing things out, but a couple of duplicates have gone on the ‘reject’ stack – do I really need two different Penguin editions of ‘The Great Gatsby’, I ask myself, and the answer, of course, is no, I do not.

And out went some titles that I enjoyed reading, but don’t feel I would want to read again. Geraldine Brooks ‘Year of Wonders’ was a moving account of what happens when the plague of 1666 reaches a small village, and to prevent the deadly disease from spreading, people isolate themselves from the rest of the world. Based on the true story of Eyam, in Derbshire, it shows how fear and superstition dictate the villagers’ actions, as the death toll mounts, hidden secrets come to light, and the world they know falls apart. The book follows the tale of Anna Frith, a maid, who emerges from the ordeal with new-found knowledge that enables her to find her own way in life. It’s beautifully written, and well researched, but so harrowing in places that I don’t think I could re-read it, despite the upbeat ending.

‘Quentins’, by Maeve Binchy, was another book I enjoyed, but wouldn’t necessarily want to read again. I can always immerse myself in Binchy’s work – she’s a warm, compassionate writer, who spins a good ‘feel-good’ yarn, and creates sympathetic characters, but her first novel, ‘Light a Penny Candle’, is the only one I have read, and read, and read over the years.

 I'm quite sad to part with this because even though
I don't like it, I love the cover, which shows a detail from'
Springtime in Eskdale', by J McIntosh Patrick.

 Then there were the books I hated, or which disappointed (I’ve reviewed some of them in past posts). Rose Macaulay’s ‘The Towers of Trebizond’ and Winifred Holtby’s ‘South Riding’ are two of my favourite books, so I had high hopes of ‘Told by an Idiot’ and ‘Anderby Wold’, but neither lived up to expectations, and both are destined for the charity shop, despite the fact that they are Virago Modern Classics, with lovely paintings on their fronts.   And I think it must have been the VMC cover that seduced me into buying ‘This Real Night’, by Rebecca West. I can think of no other reason for purchasing it, because it’s a follow-up to ‘The Fountain Overflows’, which I didn’t like, and I don’t like this one either.

I’m finally jettisoning ‘The Mandelbaum Gate’ by Muriel Spark which languished on shelf for years and years, until I managed to finish it during Muriel Spark Reading Week (and I only did that because it was the only unread novel, and I felt Simon and Harriet should have a full set!).

I have happy memories of reading my way through Susan Howatch back in the ’seventies (does anyone else remember ‘Cashelmara’ and ‘Penmarric’?) but I’m wary of revisiting them because ‘The Wheel of Fortune’ was terrible. And I couldn’t find anything nice to say about ‘The Irish RM’, by E Somerville & Martin Ross, which had me glued to the TV screen when it was televised in the 1980s.

Am I the only person who didn't finish
Jasper Fforde's 'The Eyre Affair'?

 Finally, out go various volumes recommended by friends, which I bought, tried to read, and failed miserably. So the time has come to get rid of them. I got ‘The Bourne Identity’, by Robert Ludlum, because a friend was reading it with her book group, but I never made it beyond the first couple of chapters. I hated everything about it – the style, the story, the subject matter, the characters. I know that’s a sweeping statement, based on little more than a glimpse of the book, but it not my thing at all, so why keep it?

And I’ve tried, and tried, and tried to read Jasper Fforde’s ‘The Eyre Affair’, and cannot get along with it at all, though it seems to be very highly acclaimed by everyone else. And the same could be said of ‘The Memory Keeper’s Daughter’, by Kim Edwards, which other people seem to really rate, but I just kept reading the same few pages over and over again, so I gave up and shoved it back on a shelf. Only now it’s with the other unwanted books and is in the boot of the car awaiting delivery to a charity shop where, I hope, it will meet with the approval of some other reader.

Does anyone else keep books they don’t like, or hang to novels they couldn’t finish because they feel that one day they might change their mind and enjoy that particular title? And do you ever cull books – and if so, how do you decide what should go and what should stay?

And more unwanted books....

Time for a Book Cull

It is, I fear, time for a cull – a book cull. I always feel it’s a kind of sacrilege to get rid of any reading matter, but unfortunately books seem to be taking over the house: without any effort on our part they are multiplying (rather like the Tribbles in Star Trek) and forming new communities in what were previously neutral zones. Since there is no longer room on the shelves (where volumes are double stacked in upright rows and laid flat on the top) homeless refugees have taken up residence wherever they can find a space, and normal life is no longer possible without some kind of eviction taking place.

There are books on the dining room table, dresser and chairs, the front room sofa, and under the bed (last night I even found a stray one in the bed). There are books on the freezer, in the airing cupboard and on the top of the clothes waiting to be ironed, to say nothing of the kitchen cupboard and the wardrobe.

Anyway, what I have in mind is the literary equivalent of an autumnal cleaning and clearing session in the garden, when one prunes back unwanted growth, weeds out unwanted visitors which have sprouted in odd spaces, returns borrowed items to their rightful owners, and provides old favourites with the tender loving care they need to see them through another season. Hopefully, at the end of all this activity, a small area can be cleared where new-comers can be over-wintered.

  

The main problem is deciding what to keep. I’d love to know what other readers feel about this. Do you hang on to books just in case you want to read them again one day, even if you hated them, or found them boring, or never managed to finish them first time around? What about the books you read once, that have lain gathering dust for years, or books you’ve always meant to read, but never have? Would you discard them after six months, a year, two years, five years – never? And what about your old school books? I still have several, including a learned tome on the Thirty Years War, which I have rescued from the ‘discard’ pile during previous clear-outs, planning to re-read it in the hope that I will understand it better than I did at ‘A’ Level.

Reference books are a minefield because I’m always convinced they might be useful, even if they are out of date or we never look at them. Children’s books can also be tricky. I’ve still got many favourites from my own childhood, alongside modern classics that my daughters loved, but neither they nor I would ever want to re-read any of the never-ending series about ghosts, ghouls and fairies that they once enjoyed so much.

And talking of series, how do you cope with sequels that fail to live up to the promise of the original book, but you continue to buy because you want to know what happens to the characters – fantasy writers seem particularly prone to this.

The next problem is finding new homes for your unwanted books. We do have second hand book shops in the area, but none seem to be acquiring new stock at the moment. I could try selling them online, but I’m not sure how successful I’d be, plus we would have boxes of books taking up space so I will probably take them to a charity shop – unless anyone has any other solutions?

And while I’m in the mood for clearing out I am trying to have something of a redesign on this blog to make it clearer and less ‘busy’, so it should be easier to read. Blogging needs restraint - I get carried away with colourful headers, backgrounds, buttons, accessories and so on, which can detract from the written word – and that, after all, should be the most important thing on the page. I’ve left the background (I think a bit of colour makes it look more interesting) but I’ve got rid of the cutesy pictures and the header because they didn’t add anything to the blog. In addition, I’ve altered the layout in an effort to make it look less cramped. However, the changes are very much a work in progress, so please feel free to make suggestions for improvement.