In the novel Buckaroo Banzai, the Great Man eulogizes a fellow Hong Kong Cavalier by saying of him, "he loved and slew, he made music and made merry, and never owned more than he could carry on his horse."
Despite the other differences, I feel people comparing us after I pass will not remark on my lack of kills so much as they will point out my tendency to hang onto things.
Not to a hoarding level - at least, not from my perspective, and I can't help but feel Audrey would not leave such behaviour unchallenged, but yes, there is an enticing, nearly sultry overlap between preparedness and sentimentality that can be quite debilitating, it turns out. Particularly when it comes to books.
Friends of ours are moving, and watching them go through the process of shedding decades of potentially or suddenly unnecessary accumulations has prompted Audrey and I to examine our own situation. And in a historically rare and fortunate alignment of time and motivation, we determined that on this Family Day long weekend, we would at last pare down our collection of books.
The stacks in question were six bookshelves of various sizes, qualities and provenance. Many of the books residing on these shelves were perpetually obscured, either by an additional row of books in front of them, or stacks of other items like compact discs. Some shelves bowed like the shoulders of Atlas under their burden, and Audrey believed the left-hand lower cupboard door had become a load-bearing element, but it turned out to just have been stuck.
The gap in the second shelf from the bottom was recently vacated when, in anticipation of this weekend's endeavour, I asked my friends if anyone wanted my collection of Inferno! magazine, the first publication from Games Workshop's publishing arm, Black Library. Now I have the satisfaction of knowing all 44 issues are going to a good home, where they will be appreciated.
A few items were likewise rehoused, but the vast majority of them made their way to the Goodwill donation centre, including my Latin textbook from university. I also recycled the cheat sheet I used to help memorise tenses and declensions and the like - by which I mean, I memorized the sheet itself and painstakingly wrote it out before every major exam; such was my challenge with rote memorization.
That textbook and reference has accompanied me from Augustana in Camrose to two apartments in Edmonton, across the country to Toronto and back to Edmonton; it felt almost a shame to part ways after all that time together! But part we did, and from many other reference works as well. My rubric had a pinch of Marie Kondo's joy-bringing to it, but focusing on what Wikipedia or other websites could do just as well as these often out-of-date dead tree editions allowed me to be particularly ruthless with the non-fiction items.
Before too long, the downstairs table was carrying a significant number of volumes.
So much so that we exhausted our supply of boxes, so we took the half-dozen or so that we had filled over to Goodwill, and resupplied at the liquor store on our way home - with more boxes, that is.
Being forced to audit one's accumulations can be a trial, and a blow to nostalgia to be sure, but it is rewarding for all that. It is a chance to encounter one's former self, as when I encountered two books I had ordered from Scholastic probably in elementary in Willow Park. I elected to let go of my sole Alfred Hitchcock and The Three Investigators book, but maintained my copy of Lester Del Rey's Tunnel Through Time, recalling an early bonding experience with someone thirty years ago who I am still privileged to call my friend.
I came across my very stylish invitation to the 2005 GW Veterans' Dinner, where the company would fly employees and their partners to the U.K. to receive their 10 year plaques and a leather jacket.
Glory asked if I missed it, the culture and all, and it's true; there are times when I really do. But on the other hand, my current workplace has a number of people who share my dedication to doing good work, even if the subject matter isn't quite as entertaining as Space Marines and toy goblins. And to be honest, I have probably saved myself a great deal of clutter just by not working for a maker of fabulous toys and games.
From that same trip, I found what I believe was a napkin from the cafeteria at the Tower of London (?) that obviously I held on to because of a certain similarity in names:
And on one shelf, this exquisite (if tarnished) box which should be on its way to Toronto to join its namesake before too long:
Moments of reverie slowed us down but never fully overtook us. By the end of the afternoon, we had whittled enough away to get rid of the smallest bookshelf entirely.
In addition to being smaller and tidier, things are a bit more organized now, and there is still room for a handful more volumes. This was an afternoon well spent!
But wait - why is Audrey gazing over at the shelves full of boardgames?
No comments:
Post a Comment