Celebration 3

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I have always loved books, their smell and heft, bindings, illustrations, and of course, the stories within. But I don’t recall the title of the first book I personally checked out of the library. I was five-years old, in first grade. It was a Friday, the book was replete with color illustrations, and the story was, perhaps, about a little bear. So long ago. But I read and reread that book all weekend, and I felt (and still feel!) the awe and wonder, mystery and power of that glorious artifact.

Nearly sixty years later, that awe has never diminished. The books behind my desk’s glass doors offer glimpses at rare beauty and yes, secrets. In front of me sits a U.S. first edition of Remy de Gourmont’s A Night in the Luxembourg (Boston, 1919), which may be an interesting relic in and of itself, but this particular volume bears the bookplate of Jun Fujita, historical figure, poet and photographer extraordinaire. Alongside it rests a much thumbed copy of The Book of Symbols, a source of great contemplation, insight and forehead slapping.

On the shelf above that a volume titled The Anthropology of Numbers, also a treasured resource, nestles just to the left of Kaleidoscope: Poems by American Negro Poets, a landmark 1967 anthology edited by Robert Hayden, the Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 1976 to 1978. Should your eyes wander down this shelf, you’ll also discover an inscribed copy of David Wevill’s Other Names for the Heart: New and Selected Poems 1964-1984, Maggie Nelson’s The Argonauts, and Kenkō’s Essays in Idleness, translated by Donald Keene.

Why are these books here? How have they come to be gathered in this house in Indiana, on these particular jumbled shelves? Who are the authors? What is their significance? Who knows them, feels them, understands them? What wisdoms have they endured?

Share with me your favorite books—from the volumes you’ve read time and again, to the ones you own simply because you were compelled to possess them, and those that have great significance to you, even if you’ve not read them and never will.

69 thoughts on “Celebration 3”

  1. I have books in all of the book-having categories you cite here, but the one I feel compelled to mention right now is one that I’ve gleaned (and shared!) more and more wisdom and comfort from as the years have piled on since I was a wide-eyed eighteen-year-old: Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet.

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  2. Now I am very curious about The Anthropology of Numbers. Will have to check this out. One of my favorite books of adulthood, in terms of magical physical object, is the worn, cloth-bound copy of A. Hyatt Verrill’s Strange Birds and Their Stories. It has a pull that I’ve never quite been able to define.

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    • Numbers fascinate me, and I’ve an interest in their role in culture and language. As for books as artifacts, as magical, mysterious objects, at least to my sensibilities, a number of them have come to me over the years (like the book bearing Jun Fujita’s bookplate).

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  4. I had an aunt who had her own bookstore- Ivys Bookstore – and she let me “borrow “ books provided I was careful with how I handled them and they could go back on the store shelf to sell. Lifetime of treating books with great care!

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  5. I have The Eyes of Reason (Stefan Heym) with my mother’s name written inside, and Man’s Hope (Malraux) with her father’s. I just opened them now for a quick visit. The bindings are brittle and coming apart, but I think they’ll see me out.

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  7. I’ve had so many books through the years! Many of them are still scattered around in different places I have been. Also a great book lover from the early days. Somewhere along the way I became a sometime booksellers so alot of my precious gems are gone, sold to pay the rent, etc. One of my favorites still remaining is probably The Bridge by Hart Crane, a First Eidtion. A great story-I actually sold it to a lawyer-booklover in CT. It did not have the original jacket so he bought a First Edition with an original jacket, and sent my copy back to me! With any refund! You know I will keep this book with me to my very last days!

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    • I’ve sold off so many of my treasures, including a first edition of Eliot’s The Waste Land. At this point, there’s very little that I can’t part with, though some might make me wince a tad. I’m finding that sentiment means more to me than monetary value these days.

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      • The Waste Land and The Bridge. It doesn’t get any better! How lucky we have been! Two giants from the early 20th century. I personally favor The Bridge as you might guess. One of these days I am intending to do a small ebook with some brief comments and illustrations for each of The Bridge’s sections. When the time comes I would love to send you a copy!

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  8. William Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying is a favorite I’ve read (and taught) multiple times. I have my mother’s childhood copy of Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses. I’ve kept Western Wind: An Introduction to Poetry by John Frederick Nims because I learned so much from it in college. My other favorites are short story collections and anthologies. I refer to them from time to time when I’m reminded of a favorite story.

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  10. Two particular treasures from my childhood, The Wind in the Willows which was bought for me by my father, over sixty years ago, and The Golden Treasury of Poetry by Louis Untermeyer, which introduced me to the world of poetry – both really important books in my life. So hard to pick out particular treasures from adulthood, though, there are so many, but The Razor’s Edge by Somerset Maugham and Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse must get a mention.

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  11. There’s a book from my childhood, a picture book of poetry, called Just Around the Corner by Leland Jacobs. The poems were ordered by season. It felt mysterious and magical, that anything could happen when I turned the page. And surprising things often did. I read it over and over. And I still find it intriguing.

    When I took a lit class on Faulkner, I found myself reading his books threes times each during the semester. His books infiltrated my dreams. I’ver never read anyone’s work so deeply again.

    Now, I find myself smitten by Kate DiCamillo’s middle grade novels, like Tiger Rising. Strange, filled with aching hearts, and surprising humor. Her stories don’t talk down to children.

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  12. Hayden’s Anthology, the one that you mention, intrigues me.

    I have in possession and memory books that introduced me to poetry at a greater depth as a teenager. Many of them (alas) are paperbacks and are falling apart. Master Poems of the English Language by the now unfashionable anthologist Oscar Williams, changed me. I have a few books of French poetry from my 70s fascination with that, which I revisit only occasionally but want to keep as a maker of that part of my life. I recently took down my copy of Leonard Cohen’s 1968 Selected Poems and marveled at the ancient handwriting of the young man who read it, and all the selected choices he would make afterward.

    My teenager just came in as I was typing this. “Whatcha doing?” “I’m writing to someone who dying.” * She pauses ever so briefly, shrugs, wants to be cool with that, talks about her table-top gaming plans for the day.

    Thinking of you, and wishing you a fine day.

    *A statement which is incomplete to the point of inaccuracy. I’m writing to someone who’s living more than to someone who’s dying.

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  13. My very earliest memories are of the many adventures of Freddy the Pig. And thus it began…
    The Tao Te Ching is no doubt the most important book on my shelf and though I have a number of translations, Addiss and Lombardo is the distant favourite. Mountain Home, The Wilderness Poetry of Ancient China, translated by David Hinton is a favourite influence (both for the poetry and wilderness spirituality), and Canadian author Michael Crummey’s Under the Keel Poems, I just love for depth, humour and style.
    I’m always reading and there are so many books I love, these are just the ones that come immediately to mind. I just renovated the studio and most of my books are in boxes in the basement. But there are two large wicker boxes beside me on a shelf… one is full of books of poetry. The other is birds, yoga and philosophy/religion (when I glance over I see Catechism of the Catholic Church, Foundations of Tibetan Mysticism… and The Warbler Guide (sums up the range I suppose).

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  14. Most recent find that totally gripped me, On Chapel Sands by Laura Cumming. For sense of place, intrigue and I suppose engagement (being adopted myself). So we’ll written.

    Rodinsky’s Room. Rachel Lichtenstein & Iain Sinclair. For similar reasons but not the adoption.

    The Guardian. Nick Sparks. Best Summer beach read ever.

    Diary of a Nobody. Has made me laugh many many times

    Diary of Sei Shonogan. Exquisite.

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  16. Interesting how everyone here mentions those treasured books from childhood.

    Who’ll catch the blood?
    I, said the fish,
    with my little dish.
    I’ll catch the blood.

    The Bat Poet, Randall Jarrell. (Since mentioning a freaking awesome kids’ book seems imperative here)
    Ficciones, Borges
    Siddhartha, Hesse
    Moby Dick, Melville (of course!!!!!). And if you don’t know why that’s in this very short list, here:

    “But even so, amid the tornadoed Atlantic of my being, do I myself still for ever centrally disport in mute calm; and while ponderous planets of unwaning woe revolve around me, deep down and deep inland there I still bathe me in eternal mildness of joy.”

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  17. I covet all your books! Especially “The Book of Symbols”. Gene Wolfe’s “Latro” series (“Soldier of the Mist”, “Soldier of Arete”, and “Soldier of Sidon”) is especially precious to me since my memory issues make me relate even more to poor Latro, the amnesiac soldier on a mysterious goddess-driven quest who must write every day’s happenings on a scroll because sleep will remove all his memories. The late author was a Midwesterner and a mentor of mine, in a distant way; we had a brief correspondence before his death and he encouraged me to keep writing, and I feel like I owe it to him to try!

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    • The Gene Wolfe connection is so cool. I had a similar experience with Sam Hamill. He actually contacted me on FaceBook, to ask why I used a particular word in one of my Chinese adaptations. I was flabbergasted that he’d read my adaptation, much less taken the time to reach out to me. We had a very pleasant exchange. A cherished memory.

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  18. Books I have reread again and again:

    One Hundred Years of Solitude, Lord of the Rings, Dune, Watership Down, Babel 17,
    and the poetry of John Donne.

    Books I’ve been rereading recently:

    A Memory called Empire by Arkady Marine, LandMarks by Robert Macfarlane, Europe in Autumn by Dave Hutchinson

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  19. It was a very sad day for me when I could no longer read the pages of real books, but I still keep some of the books that I love, and thankfully, I can read most poetry books. I often look at my copy of “Woman Warrior” and remember the day my Mom gave it to me, the same with “The Mists of Avalon” and “Woman in the Dunes”. She gave me a love of books, a gift that even my eyes can never take away.

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  20. Provocative post & request! My “favorites” hold that distinction for brief bits of time, till another steals my interest. I’m fickle, I guess. I’m prone to purchase and never read, but some purchases become current favorites years later when triggered by references, current events, serendipity … Poetry books have their own shelves – overflowing!

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