The Story of English : Third Revised Edition by William Cran, Robert MacNeil and Robert McCrum 2002

Weight: 14.4 oz

Method of Disposal: Sold on www.half.com

Selling this book brings back memories of college and Guthrie classes in particular. I always respected him even though I did not do all that well in his classes. I am confident that the one I did the worst in was History of the English Language, which is the class I bought this book for. I really enjoyed the lectures, and my dear friend Liz helped me out when I was drowning. She also passed me notes to cheer me up if I was feeling a little inadequate and moody.

It was a strange feeling to enjoy something so much but still struggle so hard to do well. You might be able to tell that I am not a master of grammar. Not like my friend Liz. She was always playing with the language, making jokes, writing masterpieces. I admired her for it, and I was jealous all at the same time. Actually, I still do, and I still am. Mostly, though, I just feel lucky to know her and to have been able to attend Guthrie's class and learn as much as I could.

I am sad to let this book go. For as long as I have kept it I have always imagined I would be able to dive back into it one day and learn some of the things I might have missed while in college. Unfortunately, my job keeps me incredibly busy and at some point I have to recognize how unrealistic it is to believe I will be reading this book again anytime soon.

I do wonder who purchased it. A student? Someone with a general curiosity?

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Among the Rubble of Fallen Bookshelves...

I have collected books for as long as I can remember. I worked in bookstores for years before I ended up at the animal shelter. I have gathered words, sentences, punctuation, and cover art to my own detriment. I purchased books before clothes, sometimes instead of food. I can see my childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood sprawled across many shelves and shoved into boxes that sit collecting dust, just waiting for the next big move. I think I am a woman who is afraid of commitment, settling, and stagnation. Yet the things I love most seem to coincide best with a stable, secure, immovable life. I love dogs, books, and often one woman’s company above that of others. The dogs are here for the long haul. They are too wonderful for this world and yet they are essential to it. The woman is complicated. The books are sturdy, durable, constant, perfect, and full of intrigue. They are also very heavy. They are boxes of ounces, pounds, kilograms, weight. We have moved together too many times. Maybe we met at the wrong time in the wrong place, and I have just refused to let go all of this time. I have decided to dismantle this library of thousands of books. What am I holding onto really? I have books I loved, books I hated, books that made me uneasy for weeks, and books that made someone else uneasy for weeks. I have begun to treat these books like objects and not like the magical capsules they are. I am going to give away, sell, donate all of this weight so that others can enjoy it, collect it, share it, and so that I can move more freely through my life. Libraries are where it’s at. The problem: I am terrified to let the books go. We have been together so long and put each other through so much. The only way I can imagine sending them off is if I memorialize each and every one I have left at this moment. This blog is to honor my friends, my enemies, my lovers, my life, and my words as I have collected them through the books I have read and, finally, to move away from them and onto other things. I will never stop loving books. I will never stop reading. I plan only to stop collecting so much material, so much weight.

The Dismantled Library

Monday, August 31, 2015