bookshelf peeping

Before I write what I wanted to write today, I thought I would put in a little word about Dewey from the hidden side of the leaf. Many of you have probably already seen that Dewey passed away sometime last week. The blogging community is an intricate network of links and comments and shared thoughts but most of us have never actually met, which can be an unusual way to begin and maintain friendships.

The intangible, almost unreal aspect of the blogging community stands out when something like this happens. I didn’t know Dewey, of course, but I enjoyed her blog. I left a comment once, after one of her “book coveting” posts saying something about how much I missed reading The New York Times Book Review since moving to Switzerland. She didn’t just answer with sympathy, she sent me a stack of NYTBR’s in the mail. Several times.  She spoke and read in French so I sent her some Swiss newspapers and magazines in return. It wasn’t a regular connection, it was just a simple exchange, based on our shared love of all things bookish.  

I remember being somewhat wary about blogging when I started – all these people out there, who I didn’t really know, having access to information about me, my life and my thoughts. That wariness was quickly trumped by all the positive aspects and I’m very glad I joined such a vibrant conversation. With Dewey’s passing, it will be one voice quieter. I just wanted to recognize that.

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Eva has put together a good meme for peeking at bookshelves, something most of us love to do…

the book that’s been on your shelves the longest: I have moved house a few too many times to have many books from when I was a kid. I do still have a copy of Le Petit Prince which I received when I first started learning French around age 12 or so. It is a small, well-loved hardback with tattered pages and a cracked spine. The cover has gone all soft and worn.  But I still read it with one of my nephews when he comes to visit.

a book that reminds you of something specific in your life (a person, a place, a time, etc.):  Anything by the Swiss author Durrenmatt (The Visit or The Physicists or The Pledge, for example) makes me think of my husband because they were the first gifts he ever gave me. And also because Durrenmatt was critical of society and human nature in general, as well as many aspects of Swiss culture, a trait my husband shares.

a book you acquired in some interesting way (gift, serendipity in a used bookstore, prize, etc.):  When I was finishing up my master’s degree in Boston, I was working on a translation project on the Haitian author Marie Vieux-Chauvet (I’ve mentioned her here several times) whose work is extremely difficult to find. The wonderful Boston Public Library had two of her books and my lovely, studious sister checked out the rest for me from the immense library at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, and sent them to me. For my work, I knew I had to have copies I could keep, so I spent many a night in various Kinko’s around our neighborhood in Boston photocopying each and every one before I had to get them back to each library.

the most recent addition to your shelves: Just a few days ago we received Stefanie Zweig’s Nirgendwo in Afrika (Nowhere in Africa) from bookmooch for the Swiss fellow. One note on this – the film based on this book (same title) is beautiful and complex, I highly recommend it. And I stopped by my favorite second-hand book shop last week and came home with: Away, Amy Bloom; Birdsong, Sebastian Faulks; Justine, Lawrence Durrell; Angels & Insects, A.S. Byatt; The Gravedigger’s Daughter, Joyce Carol Oates.

the book whose loss would traumatize you the most:  This is a tough question, I’m going to  limit my selection a little and imagine I have to choose one book from my “read in 2008” list which will vanish from the face of the earth forever. I want to pick a book that I would feel compelled to tell and re-tell again to anyone who never got the chance to read it…I think this would have to be Time’s Arrow by Martin Amis, a book which deals with an incredibly difficult subject and whose structure impacts its content in an intimate  way.

a book that’s been with you to the most places: I’ll answer this question in a slightly different way and choose a book that has had an impact on me in different ways over time, even if it hasn’t been with me physically. Tanizaki Junichiro’s Seven Japanese Tales speaks to several of my experiences… I first read it when I started studying Japanese in high school and it gave me a glimpse into a culture I thought I knew a lot about (I was born in Japan) but which still had many surprises in store for me. When I got more interested in translation I used it to compare my attempts vs. what the translator (Howard Hibbett) had already done. And when I started writing my own fiction, I began to really appreciate and analyze Tanizaki’s subtle narrators and unique imagery.

a bonus book that you want to talk about but doesn’t fit into the other questions: I will pick a few books from my “read in 2008” list that I think represent the exact reading experience I am looking for when I sit down to turn some pages.  John Banville’s Eclipse, Doris Lessing’s The Grass is Rising, Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go, Nadine Gordimer’s Occasion for Loving, The Conservationist or The House Gun, Kirsty Gunn’s Rain…

Feel free to join in…