What Your Spines Should Reveal About You

Apparently bookshelves are not supposed to reveal what you've read, but rather what the person you would like to be would/has read.

When hubby and I lost our libraries to a fire, there was a serious moment of gulp, holy shit. As two academically-minded types who in moments of low self-esteem could always count on the fact that we were book people, what did it mean to no longer own any books?

The first time I visited my future-husband's bedroom, I didn't check out the thread count on his sheets or the pictures on the bedside table. I went straight to his bookshelves. A summary glance picked out Foucault, Anais Niin and a book called "The Jewish Book of Why."

My conclusion?

Please god let this man be funnier than all signs indicate.

Of course, once I'd moved into that bedroom, I learned that 1) My guy had learned way more with his philosophy minor than I had; 2) He had a great sense of humour; and 3) He actually hadn't finished reading most of the books on his shelves.

When I added my fiction-heavy collection to his mix, our libraries balanced one another out and wedding bells soon followed. Well seven-alarm fire, then wedding bells.

When we finally settled into a new place with nary a bookshelf between us, our home seemed strangely empty (that also might have had something to do with the fact that our furniture consisted of two lawn chairs). Of course, it was only a matter of weeks before a pile was teetering beside my side of the bed; but the sight of books in our home has never brought us the same sense of ease and assurance as it once did.

I think what I realized when we lost all our hard- and soft covers of self-worth was that our books actually only reflect a time in our lives. And they take up a lot of space. And brief time and big space = nostalgia.

It turned out our books were nothing more than a 16 year-old's dried flowers collection. Beloved, cherished and expired.

Did I go out and buy some of the books I lost? If I wanted to read them again, yes. But we have a new rule in house: If the book cost less than $50, we get rid of it after we've read it.

And while my husband has taken to buying $1000 dodo books online so that his new collection can grow slowly but grandly, I continue to buy my humble little novels and short story collections and give them away.

Perhaps it's what we're willing to let go of that reveals who we really are.