The Japanese created a word to describe the practice of accumulating books:TsundokuSomething liketsun-stacking anddoku-reading.To have generated a specific concept, the practice must not be uncommon there, which slightly tarnished my cherished stereotype about the moderation of the Eastern world.
Practice may not be the best word; it seems to fall more under the category of a trend, addiction, lack of sense of reality, and time management.Text: "tsundokuers" (This appears to be a misspelling or a term specific to a certain context, and it doesn't translate directly into English. If referring to a group or concept, a direct translation wouldn't be applicable. For accurate translation, please provide additional context.) (Anglicism is on me) over time, they build their libraries. However, the consequence of being this kind of stacker is to raise, in parallel, an anti-library: a collection of everything you haven't read, perhaps never will. It doesn't seem like a good thing, but being part of the category of those who only create anti-libraries is worse. They don't even have a Japanese nickname.
There are also bibliophiles, with roots in the Greek word "biblio" meaning book. They have rare books, unique editions, and multiple translations of the same texts. Umberto Eco had around 30,000 books and, as far as we know, was devoid of anti-library sentiments. I believe that aText: "tsundokuer" (This appears to be a non-standard term and does not translate directly. It may be a typo or a specific, non-general term.)It generates much more empathy than a book lover.
An anti-library is always a source of distress. Even in terms of its arrangement on the shelves. Some might organize them by placing all unread books on specific shelves, or hide the collection, mixing them with read books, impressing visitors and soothing their indebted mind a little.
For you reading this and in a panic, rummaging through your bookshelf for everything you bought and never even took out of the plastic, take a breath. Read Irene Vallejo, author ofThe infinite in a reed(that I bought and read!), my Japanese portion of unread books was welcomed. Having a portion of unread books is a sign of optimism, hope in life. It is the materialized belief that there is a future you, and that future you will one day read everything. The book you bought today is a bet on tomorrow. Good, right?
But when you discover, like me, that besides the library and anti-library, you have an ectoplasmic library, composed of all the books you've read, devoid of itself? It works like this: I find a certain book on the shelf and think: damn, I had this book, I didn't even know, I'm going to read it! I open it and see scribbles, comments, underlined passages. The first reaction is indignation: who dared to scribble on my book? The second, more lucid, notices the clues: messy scribbles in my unique ugly letter style; underlined passages in the unmistakable style of an electroencephalogram. Yes, it was me. I read outside my body, not leaving a single trace of memory about it.
Some tell me:Ah, your brain didn't record because you weren't interested in the subject?They don't understand me. The reflections, notes, dialogues I had with the author, all show that yes, I was very interested. Which leads me to conclude that some brains come withsoftwarethat combines interest + storage. Then the memory stays there, saved and retrievable. However, there are those who came withSoftwareHowever, they never updated their version. They came close to matching my category, that of many (many) ghostly readings.
Perhaps you should adopt the strategy of a friend, also a practitioner of reading in the moment. He focuses on the present, reads, and doesn't get frustrated, only enjoys.Mindfulness.Another friend, who has been reading since she was a baby using only Pampers, can recite whole passages from memory. Our solid friendship saves me from reprisals for my obvious jealousy.
I try to learn to live with it, but I still have the bad habit of promising myself re-reads. Thus, all that has been read — library, plus those yet to be read — anti-library, plus the ectoplasmic books, add up to the re-reads I will never do.
All I have left to do is organize my bookshelf, arranging all the mixed books, adding some volume, because, you know, it always impresses visitors.