As I look over my own shelf, I see my life pass before my eyes. The memories grafted onto each volume become stirred and awakened by a glance at the spine, which presents itself to be touched, opened, and explored. Without the bookshelf's landscape to turn to, that manifest remainder from a lifetime of reading, how would one think? What would one write?
11.22.2010
As the Book Goes, So Goes the Bookshelf
Nathan Schneider writes in The Smart Set about the demise of the bookshelf as a visual of our intellectual development.
Labels:
books,
doomsaying,
literature
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