Over the past few weeks, it feels like I’ve started a dozen books, read 30 pages in and then put it aside. My bedside table is a mess of just started books and the piles of books to read are getting messier by the day. One of them is Nassim Nicholas Taleb’s The Black Swan where, like Maria Popova, I’ve stumbled upon and fallen for the concept of the antilibrary. The idea of an antilibrary is that we gather the books around us that will fill our gaps as opposed to display our knowledge.
My analogy would be collecting books like a squirrel instead of a peacock. You get the books you know you’ll need one day and add them to your collection. You may not know what you have or where you have it, but oh boy will there be great surprises in the cold days of winter and hey, what? Cool things that grow from the books you forgot about.
Peacock is more “look at my beautiful matched series of books,” “see what I’ve read,” “admire my literary prowess.” And that’s not me. In fact, didn’t I just write about being a little embarrassed about my bookshelf?
The Black Swan has been on my shelf for many years. I read about it when it came out. A friend told me it was a great read. Somewhere along the line, probably because of Popova’s article, I bought a copy new while I was living in the Netherlands. And like so many of the unread books I’ve moved, it’s provoked questions about it’s right to take up space on my shelf, not to mention in moving boxes and international shipping containers.
And yet.
I’m so grateful every single time I can go to my bookshelves and find something. That thing isn’t always a book to read. Sometimes it’s evidence of an interest I pursued for a while, my own little rabbit hole, but in paperback form. Sometimes it’s aspirational. Will I ever read that hardcover copy of Vanity Fair? Doubt it, but it is awfully pretty. There’s a real tension between decluttering and minimalist living and being a book person. I want to claim to be firmly on the side of home libraries, but I have my doubts. They’re stronger when I can’t seem to find something to hold my interest on my own over burdened shelves. But then I pick up a book I’ve owned for five years or more and find a gem that’s been waiting for me and think - ah…. this is why.
I did break the slump, or at least crack it yesterday. It took a new book, which might deflate my entire argument here, but I don’t care. The Boy from Clearwater by Yu Pei-Yun and Zhou Jian-Xin is the story of a boy growing up in Taiwan in the early 20th century amidst of Japanese rule, the arrival of the Kuomintang, and the beginning of the White Terror. There are four books in the series and this is the first to have been translated by Lin King with more on the way. It’s a formidable feat of translation given that there are three different languages here, Japanese, Mandarin Chinese, and Hoklo Chinese.
Over the past few years, a good graphic novel has been my go to for breaking a reading slump. Sometimes, it’s going to the library and grabbing everything that looks interesting. Other times, it’s a key recommendation that helps me along the way. This recommendation was from Jenna Tang and I ordered immediately after hearing about it, along with the follow-up which will release on 7 May. I’m following a course on reading Taiwanese literature with her and the reading list and resources are overwhelming in the best way for someone who wants to learn more.
If you have a reading slump breaking recommendation, please share it!
Now this section needs a name…. shall we try:
My Internet Wanderings
Small surprise that Judith Butler would offer a thoroughly thoughtful reflection on choosing sides regarding Israel & Palestine. I’m so sorry I missed this in October. Get in touch with your old friends, folks, they still have your interests at heart.
The Offing Magazine is publishing work accepted elsewhere that authors have withdrawn from submission. Why might someone withdraw their work? Perhaps because they no longer agree with the principles of a publication. Perhaps because they have decided to put their values above their desire to be in print, or even their need to be paid. This kind of refusal is powerful and providing an alternative platform is a strong statement of support for artists’ independence.
One of the best things that has happened to me since I started this newsletter was hearing from David Epstein that something I wrote sent him down an internet rabbit hole. Why did it matter so much? Because he’s the kind of curious, thoughtful thinker I want to be when I grow up.