All My Books Bring Me Joy

Kajmeister books 1
Tip of the iceberg of kajmeister books. All photos today by kajmeister.

I’m jumping on the bandwagon of shade. I am piling on the hate. I am a little chagrined to be joining such a chorus since, generally speaking, I try to avoid the herd mentality, but when it comes to dissing books, I can’t help it.

There’s a conversation going around about self-proclaimed expert tidier Marie Kondo and her aversion to anyone owning more than 30 books. Specifically….

She recommends keeping no more than 30 books in your collection, to be exact….”The idea is that if it sparks joy for you, you must keep it even if I go over to your home and I say, ‘Do you really want to keep this book?’ If you feel that it sparks joy for you, keep it with confidence.”–from “Marie Kondo Approved Ways to Get Rid of Your Books”

Yet more books
Non-paperback fiction, aka what I read in college (mostly).

But this is impossible. That would be an onerous burden for anyone, surely! Did she really say that? Could that be a distortion, a misquote? Suddenly, we have Netflix watchers up in arms, and a whole backlash movement, followed by protests that isn’t what she meant and don’t throw out your books!

more books
Jokes & puzzles, handy in the family room

The Tidying Expert

Marie Kondo, like Gordon Ramsay and the Supernanny before her, is one of those newly fashionable experts who tells people what to do, and people love it. (In the interests of full-disclosure, I have only watched 4:07 of Kondo’s advice, just now on Youtube because I felt obligated to watch something if I was going to write an entire blog about her.)

Watching her fold laundry made me think, well, yes, that’s how you fold laundry. Except that pants won’t stand up that way unless you are a size 2. Yes, of course, you shouldn’t carry around things in a purse that you aren’t using. Clean things out. Probably at least weekly. Put things in other things, preferably clear containers so you can see them. Put things away. Have a very small space that doesn’t allow you to acquire things, like a Japanese apartment. Don’t acquire things. Be tiny. That’s Marie Kondo advice, in a nutshell. You’re welcome.

Other people's books
Some of my daughter’s books.

In 1917, Elisabeth Morris wrote about “The Tyranny of Things,” and she was right. We live in an age where we are compelled to acquire, and manufactured things have become inexpensive, so we do drown in them sometimes. But, ah books! To readers, to book lovers, books are not things like T-shirts or Happy Meal toys or jars.

Office books
Books in the other writer’s office, including the OED.

House as Library

How would you tidy up a library? Your books should be organized carefully, like a folded pair of pants. Cookbooks next to the kitchen. How-to books on art next to the art supplies. Exercise books in the room with the exercise equipment. There’s nonfiction there, hardback fiction over here, sci-fi fantasy (the biggest collection) here, and the second group where I need entire shelves for just a couple of authors next to the comfy chair. Organize your bookshelves, folks!

Exercise books
Exercise books, behind the elliptical, of course.
Cookbooks, naturally in kitchen (just the left side)
Business books
Functional business-y books in the office.
Art books
Art books next to art supplies.

Yes, those are puzzles stacked next to the art books, one of the two puzzle closets. My puzzles bring me joy, too.

Umberto Eco spoke proudly of owning over 40,000 books, many of which he admitted he had not read. That was part of the experience, as he explains:

But then the day eventually comes when, in order to learn something about a certain topic, you decide finally to open one of the many unread books, only to realize that you already know it. What has happened? There is the mystical-biological explanation, whereby with the passing of time, and by dint of moving books, dusting them, then putting them back, by contact with our fingertips the essence of the book has gradually penetrated our mind. There is also the casual but continual scanning explanation: as time goes by, and you take up and then reorder various volumes, it is not the case that the book has never been glanced at; even by merely moving it you glanced at a few pages, one today, another the next month, and so on until you end up by reading most of it, if not in the usual linear way.

But the true explanation is that between the moment when the book first came to us and the moment when we opened it, we have read other books in which there was something that was said by that first book, and so, at the end of this long intertextual journey, you realize that even that book you had not read was still part of your mental heritage and perhaps had influenced you profoundly.–Umberto Eco, On Literature

Yes, that’s an Oxford English Dictionary in my author wife’s office. I bought that in college when I didn’t have a car, picked it up at the post office seven blocks from my studio apartment, and then carried it all the way home, oof! Did you know (according to the OED) that a spoony or spooney is a simple, silly, or foolish person?

If you actually listen to the tidying expert, you’ll realize that she’s not against books in general; she’s against books that don’t continuously add value to your life. In fact, she takes care to recognize their importance: “Books are the reflection of our thoughts and values,” she says while helping two writers pare down their library.–from “Marie Kondo Approved Ways to Get Rid of Your Books”

SF fantasy books
Sci fi fantasy in the hallway

30 Per Shelf? 30 Per Author?

I still believe this may be a misquote. One friend suggests she meant 30 per shelf. Another suggests she meant 30 per author. I don’t have 30 for any author, … hold on a minute. I have quite a few from Bernard Cornwell, Ray Bradbury, Virginia Woolf, Nabokov, Shakespeare, of course, (three “complete” sets), three Bibles, a lot of Ray Bradbury and Katherine Kurtz, 15 Dorothy Dunnets, and 22 C.J. Cherryh’s. Daughter Lee, whose online sobriquet is Vanyel, appears to have around 35 Mercedes Lackeys.

Reading nook
SF/Fantasy Favorites in the bedroom reading nook

My parents had bookshelves everywhere in the house. I remember curling up in a chair on a snowy day and just randomly pulling them off the shelves, Dickens, Shakespeare, Henry Miller? uck! Faulkner, Thomas Mann (snore).  When my parents divorced and created two separate houses, the books divided and multiplied, like chromosomes. One of the volume of Shakespeares was used by both parents and me for study because you can thumb through and see notes in all three handwriting.

Kondo says you should only keep books that “bring you joy.” What could be more joyful than that? My memory is imperfect, but I can pretty much remember for every single book when it was purchased, where, and why. And probably if I’ve read it and how many times.

Not Really Everywhere

There are no books in the garage.

Coffee table books
For thumbing through while we watch TV.

There are no books sitting in the sauna, in the sheds, or near the hot tub. Or in the bathrooms actually, just bring whatever’s in your hand at the moment. No books on the stairs…oops, just a minute. OK, now there are no books on the stairs.

Wardrobe of books.
Open a wardrobe and voila! Books. Perhaps the C.S. Lewis should be in there.

By the way, a really good book on decluttering was recommended by my travel friend Jerry, called The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning by Margareta Magnusson. That book is funny, practical, and very moving in its own way. I have it on the shelf, oh, right here, yup hardback nonfiction.

“In Japan … it’s a very moist climate so the books would be physically harmed by the dampness,” she explained.–from “Marie Kondo Approved Ways to Get Rid of Your Books”

A Very Moist Climate

So, because of the climate, the Japanese must not be readers of many books. Wouldn’t the same argument — that dampness argument — hold for the Irish… there goes Joyce and Shaw… everyone in the Southern U.S. — so much for Flannery O’ Connor and Faulkner —  the Californians… no John Steinbeck, oh and forget anyone from London.

Actually, Kondo’s concern about the dampness may be the clue to our disconnect. She perceives the book as ornamentation, as a precious object to be protected, like a painting or a bottle of wine. Amazon pays by the word or page read, as if letters are just grains of rice in any order. Realtors like to stage houses with fake book fronts and “coffee table books” that no one reads. This is the modern view of book as mutable content. This is the point of view of book as Thing.

That is not what books are for. Books are perfectly readable when damaged. You can drop a book in the bathtub or hot tub and still be moved by its poetry or gripped by its plot twists. You can be in the middle of reading five at a time.

Bedtime books
Four to choose from at bedtime. Don’t worry, I don’t use highlighter on the library books.

This is the problem. Marie Kondo must not be a reader. A reader would know that all books bring joy. Books are a reflection of our thoughts and values, and having only 30 of them also is a reflect of thoughts and values, too.

Oh Marie, you spooney, this is a houseful of readers.

Reading lamp
Read around a lamp if you must, but never stop reading. Photo @2004.



P.S. There are, actually, six Sharon Kay Penmans that no longer bring us joy. If anyone would like them and will pay shipping, I will send them for free. Send me a comment.

Happy New Year, Same Old Shtick

new computer
The Shiny New Thing (the one without stickers…YET). Photo by kajmeister.

I bought myself a new computer (Merry Christmas to me) because the old one was doing those things they do when they get old: taking five minutes to boot up, hopping off the internet frequently for no particular reason, or just refusing to cooperate. Not quite the Blue Screen of Death, but it was coming, I was sure. I suppose I could have just wiped the hard drive, but I convinced myself a new one was needed because there were a few new bells and whistles that I wanted.

So I have spent my transitioning into 2019 with Della, the Shiny New Thing, who is frequently reminding me of how painful a process this is. Microsoft is so intrusive and buggy; Support Forums are full of bad advice or suggestions that lead nowhere. I figured out how to port over all the email history I wanted–oh, the cleverness of me! — but I broke the email on my phone, tablet, and old machine in the process and had to remove and reload, over and over.

Into the New Year we go, doing the same Old things. Continue reading “Happy New Year, Same Old Shtick”

Heartland III: Not My Mama’s Shakespeare

It’s astounding
Time is fleeting
Madness takes its toll
So listen closely
Not for very much longer
I’m going to lose control

Quick–what’s the next line?

Stratford Festival Theater
Shakespearean Festival Theater in Stratford Ontario, originally built in 1953. Photo by kajmeister.

Forty-two years ago, I saw the legendary Canadian actor Brian Bedford play three roles at the Stratford Canadian Shakespearean festival in repertory: Angelo in Measure for Measure, Malvolio in Twelfth Night, and Richard III. The breadth of his performances changed my idea of what actors could do.

Forty years ago, as a freshman in college at Berkeley, I watched a science-fiction movie about a transvestite where people shouted at the screen and threw toast and rice. It changed my idea about how a movie can connect with an audience.

Who would have thought that, getting old, we would wax nostalgic about doing the time warp?

Stratford Festival program, Rocky Horror
Stratford Festival’s Rocky Horror, starring Dan Chameroy. Program photo by Stratford staff, uncredited.

Gimme That Ol’ Time Theater

Continue reading “Heartland III: Not My Mama’s Shakespeare”

Heartland II: Where My People Lie Buried

If you trace your ancestors, how far back do you go? Great-greats? Where the four brothers married the four sisters? Pre-Civil War? Neanderthals? Perhaps I should start simply, just with my mother and my grandfather, a more manageable task.

Last week, I wrote about the inspiration of seeing the Crazy Horse Memorial in South Dakota. This week, I am traveling the path of my own people, my mother’s family, whose lives were sprinkled across the northern plains of Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan. We are Finns, who emigrated from Lapplander landscapes with thin, tall trees, who journeyed from bleak places of chill and sleet to cross the American “west” until they reached an equally bleak landscape. Home!

Copper Harbor lighthouse, Michigan
Copper Harbor lighthouse on Lake Superior above the Upper Peninsula Michigan. Photo by kajmeister.

Not to worry. This is not a full genealogy review, not a list of begats and son ofs in biblical proportions. I did a Family Tree project in the fifth grade which had some of these details, but don’t have it with me. I may be misremembering or fictionalizing pieces (I think Grandpa Hugo was oldest of 11… I think there were four brothers and sisters intermarrying…) In point of fact, my aunt has also compiled some kind of detailed review, to the point where if you go into the Finnish-American Center in Hancock, Michigan and mention the surname Busse, they say, “Oh, Ainie!” even though she lives 350 miles away.

This is about the environment of my mom’s family. What was it like where she was born and grew up? Why did she always yearn to be near a city, preferring traffic over trees? Why did she enjoy the 108-degree heat of Sacramento? Why did her family have such a strange, biting sense of humor? What was all that SISU about? Continue reading “Heartland II: Where My People Lie Buried”

Heartland I: The Carving Climbing Out of the Mountain

Crazy Horse carving, September 2018
“My lands are where my people lie buried.” Crazy Horse Memorial, September 2018. Photo by kajmeister.

Korczak, the sculptor, slung his drill over his back and climbed over 900 steps for almost 40 years.  He blasted bits out of the granite mountain, day after day, grinding down the 563 -foot side to lay out room for a long pointing arm. If ever there was a visual definition of the word “surmount”–to mount upon, to prevail over–this must be it.

One man, one drill, one mountain.

Crazy Horse Memorial 1974
Memorial in 1974, when I first visited. Photo by memorial staff, copy on Pinterest.

He hadn’t gotten especially far by 1973, when I first saw the Statue-To-Be, driving across South Dakota on our cross-country trip moving from Detroit to Sacramento. Now, returning back to visit some of my old haunts in Michigan, the memorial was the first big stop on our trip through the heartland, this pink-tinged grassland of our country’s center.  Korczak’s grandchildren are now in charge, and the crew is slowly but surely pulling the image of the proud warrior out of the granite. Continue reading “Heartland I: The Carving Climbing Out of the Mountain”