The Cappuccino Life - A House Without Books

Jul. 9, 2009 - A House Without Books

Recently my kids were invited to a neighbor’s house to play. This was the first time they’d gone over, and I went with them. When I first walked in, I noticed how clean and tidy everything looked. It was almost Spartan, and that’s always been my dream, to have clean lines and everything orderly and minimalistic.

Then I noticed something. There were no books. None. In the whole downstairs area, not one single book. There was the neighbor boy’s school computer (he’s a cyberschool student), and a massive flat screen TV on the wall. There was some nice furniture. But no books. Not one single book. The realization was stunning.

To me, books are like air and water—necessary for life. I can’t remember living anywhere without being surrounded by books. Even on vacations, in my family it was a given that we’d visit at least one bookstore. Books are all over the place here: on the shelves of course, but also on the table, the dresser, the beds, the bench in the bathroom, the little half-wall at the top of the stairs… I can’t get rid of them all. I already try to cull them regularly, but they’re my friends. They hold memories as well as words. It is true that I don’t read all of the books I have again and again. Some of them sit for years with out being opened. But even those ones aren’t useless. They start thought processes, and remind me of things I’ve been wanting to think about, and prompt musings and ramblings and the occasional blog post. They make my house look like home.

I think part of my shock at the booklessness of my neighbor’s home was the epiphany that I was looking at the future. Several generations have dropped books for the most part, in favor of tech media and the occasional slim magazine, while my children’s generation is being raised without a need for books at all (though I realize there are people fighting valiantly to keep printed books as part of humanity’s experience). My children, for instance, had the choice between a “boxed curriculum” or a completely computer-based curriculum. Actually, I had the choice and I picked the textbooks and workbooks and real, tangible readers because I couldn’t stand the thought of my children spending hours every day staring at a glowing screen. There are plenty of wonderful educational things on the web, and we use them, but it’s hard enough to control that without making their entire learning experience web-based. I want my children to have the ability to curl up on the couch with a good book, and not be antsy because there are no “interactive activities” as part of the story. I want them to read for enjoyment and mind-expansion, not just for school. And it may be a pipe-dream, but I hope to keep them from ever, ever becoming familiar with text-speak (or is that “txt spk”?). I’d rather they learn to comprehend Shakespearean English.

Books have been my companions when I’m lonely. I don’t have to sit at the computer and wait for someone to respond to my status-report on facebook. I just have to pull an old and faithful friend off the shelf and start reading to feel a little better. A cup of tea and a good book have gotten me through many a bout of sickness, whether physical or emotional.

Maybe it’s just a quirk of mine. Maybe I’m a dinosaur, a slightly paranoid dinosaur. Maybe books will be around for a long time to come. Or maybe the won’t, but society won’t be the worse for missing them.

But a house without books makes me edgy. A future without books makes me downright scared.

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