I’ve had this post in mind for a while, actually since reading this clever piece on what our bookshelves might say about us. Having procrastinated long enough, and having mentioned to two good friends just yesterday that I was thinking about this, it seems like as good a time as any to take a short stroll though my books and see where I stand. By no means would I think to claim that my library is particularly broad or particularly deep, but it does have a few gems that are well worth sharing. Or, better yet, my personal attachment to some of these books may just be irrational, and thus I’ve convinced myself that writing about them would interest someone, anyone, other than myself! At any rate, I take a certain joy in being able to share these items of my education with guests, so why not in this space as well?
The bottom shelf pretty much represents what you’d expect to see from a would-be political theorist: an overview of the Continental canon (that is, looking at it now, weighted rather heavily towards modern texts that I have yet to take the time to really understand…Wittgenstein and Heidegger come to mind). The two large volumes toward the left, Weber’s Economy and Society, and its neighbors represent my fascination with the sociologist during graduate school. Noteworthy there is a first English printing of Mommsen’s historiography.
American history and political thought take over much of the next shelf, along with all the apologia one might need to realize how un-settled the case for the nation has always been. Earnest debate eloquently written…marvelous. My copy of The Federalist Papers is just to the left of the four black volumes; de Tocqueville is slightly to the right. Above these, various volumes of European and Middle Eastern history. Were it not for an off-hand suggestion by a tutor during my first week at college, I may never have come to be fascinated by the history of that region, or have even made it beyond my first year.
Fictional literature has collected itself around the edges, and is mostly represented by a narrow selection, which is to say: Camus, Mann, and Conrad can be found here. And from among these, it was Der Zauberberg that provided me with the one truly profound reading experience. I turned to the novel during the summer after leaving Princeton, while I was working in the Wyoming mountains and had yet to imagine any particular direction that my life would take. Despite the intervening years since my first introduction to Hans Castorp, I need but close my eyes to hear him sing of the Lindenbaum as he rushes headlong into uncertainty.
Und seine Zweige rauschten
Als riefen sie mir zu…
Up opposite the decanter, in two volumes, is the first English printing of The Magic Mountain, along with a German first edition of the prophetically anti-fascist Mario und der Zauberer. These, quite surely, are the prizes of my library.
Two thoughts come to mind, one prompted by your picture, and the other by what you’ve written.
Firstly – the picture – you really need more shelves! Next you’ll be filling the shelves in double rows, then building towers on the floor. (Or is that just me?) More shelves, more shelves.
Secondly – what you’ve written – You mention that a remark from a university tutor set you off on European and Middle Eastern history. It was a bit like that with me too. I had a small political interest in Africa – mainly South Africa and the frontline states during the apartheid era. But my encounter with one Professor David Birmingham set me off on an academic exploration of African literature, politics and economics. Very rewarding and a complete change from what I had gone to university to study in the first place. The secret ingredient Prof Birmingham added was huge enthusiasm. I salute him.
As for you – more shelves. And more fiction to put on them.