Updated on 02/11/2010 with five new books.
It looks like I may have done just that.
My bookshelf (though admittedly small) is now full, and the 4-foot windowsill in my room is well on its way to being taken covered in the spillover. I have mixed feelings about this.
On one hand, relatively speaking, I have a lot of books, and I find this really exciting. Fifty books (give or take) may not seem like a lot to some people, but almost all of them were selected and acquired by myself to cater specifically to my interests. I’ve never felt this sense of pride about any other collections, spare my Morrissey/The Smiths albums (and maybe hockey cards or Pogs, but let’s focus on the 21st century).
On the other hand, though, I sometimes feel like I am wasting my time with some of my selections. I use the words, “I don’t like fiction,” nearly as often as I say, “I don’t watch movies.” (Neither of these statements are more than 75% true.) Sure, I have read a lot of poems, short stories, and novels that I really enjoyed, but as I grow older, I can’t help but remind myself that there is so much out there for me to learn about. Why waste my time with make-believe when I could become more knowledgeable? It’s the same principle that applies when I opt for Discovery Channel or a documentary over a Hollywood blockbuster.
That said, I would only classify 1 of the 20 books on this list as fiction (or, more accurately, each of the Bukowski books as 0.5 – and even that may be pushing it), but my subconscious inner-purist still finds some of the others questionable. How many Morrissey anecdotes must I have on tap? How many catalogued mental images of serial killers’ notes is too many? Do I really need to read 221 pages on the history of karaoke?
I don’t have answers to these questions. There are no definitive answers. As if that isn’t bad enough, in thinking about it, another question poses itself – What happens when one’s personal morality and belief system directly conflict their own interests and sources of entertainment? Another unanswered question. This quandary is one that plagues my existence. I feel comparatively inadequate when standing back-to-back with the capability and potential outlined by my intelligence, yet I have no real desire to fulfill that framework. Lately, this frustrates me on a very regular basis. This is my inner turmoil. Metaphorically speaking, I’m wearing clown shoes; I know my feet could grow into them, but I’m wiggling my toes around, falling all over the place, and having a hell of a fun time doing it.
Let’s bring the attention back to the task at hand…
I have a short attention span. As a result, I can’t be reading more than one book at a time. Furthermore, if I don’t read somewhere in the vicinity of 50 pages each sitting – especially the first time I crack the spine – I won’t finish the book. These aren’t rules, they’re observations. With one book on the go and 19 in line, I figure it’s best to keep track of them with a checklist. It (sort of) worked for the audiobooks, so here it goes.
- Don’t Stop Believin’ by Brian Raftery
- Eating the Dinosaur by Chuck Klosterman ✓
- The First Family by Mike Dash
- Ham on Rye by Charles Bukowski
- Helter Skelter by Vincent Bugliosi and Curt Gentry
- How We Are Hungry by Dave Eggers
- The Jeffrey Dahmer Story: An American Nightmare by Don Davis
- The Know-It-All by A.J. Jacobs
- Meetings with Morrissey by Len Brown
- Morrissey: The Pageant of His Beating Heart by Gavin Hopps
- The Narcissism Epidemic by Jean M. Twenge and W. Keith Campbell
- No Logo by Naomi Klein
- The Pleasures of the Damned by Charles Bukowski
- The Rough Guide to True Crime by Cathy Scott
- Serial Killers: Up Close and Personal by Christopher Berry-Dee
- The Smiths: The Visual Documentary by Johnny Rogan
- The Taqwacores by Michael Muhammad Knight
- This Is Your Brain On Music by Daniel J. Levitin
- Waiter Rant by Steve Dublanica
- Zodiac by Robert Graysmith
I’ll be updating this list as I work my way through it. If something has a checkmark beside it, I finished it. If there’s an X, I gave up on it. If you want to discuss anything or ask any questions, feel free to leave a comment.
And, as per usual, what would my train of thought be without a closely related Seinfeld reference running caboose? Here’s an excerpt from the script for “The Ex-Girlfriend” (S02E01).
GEORGE: I left some books in her apartment.
JERRY: So? Go get them.
GEORGE: Oh, no. No, I can’t go back there. Jerry, it’s so awkward and, you know, it could be dangerous – sexually. Something could happen. I’d be right back where I started.
JERRY: So forget about the books. Did you read them?
GEORGE: Well, yeah.
JERRY: What do you need them for?
GEORGE: I don’t know. They’re books.
JERRY: What is this obsession people have with books? They put them in their houses like they’re trophies. What do you need it for after you read it?
GEORGE: They’re my books.
