Booklust

Hey readers,

So, I took a trip to Dublin earlier this week, and...I went a little overboard. I don't mean that I drank too much at a pub or anything like that. The place I went overboard was a bookstore.

As my some of my past posts would imply, I've been studying in Copenhagen this semester, and it's been pretty great on a number of counts. However, one place where I've struggled is the lack of bookstores. There were two bookstores that offered English-language books near my school, and since the semester started, one has moved into what seems to be some kind of cramped temporary space while the main store ostensibly undergoes remodeling, while the other inexplicably vanished, like a Borders closing without the massive sale.

A note on Borders closing sales - as sad as I was to see the chain close, I made great advantage of those final days. I think on my last visit, I walked out with eight or nine new books, all of which were at least 25% off of the sticker price. It was a good day. But I digress.

See, I love bookstores - not just the act of buying books, but the act of browsing, looking at various titles, marveling at the great selection, and sometimes even going from shelf to shelf looking for that rare book that I know exists but cannot seem to find anywhere. I could sort of have this experience in Copenhagen, but the English-language selection felt rather limited and very overpriced. I'd had iBooks, which is a good source of reading, but just lacks the feel I like - both in terms of buying the book and then reading it. There are things that I like about iBooks - particularly how easy it is to highlight and make annotations, and then to find a favorite passage later on - but after three months without a proper bookstore, the online option just wasn't cutting it for me any more.

Enter Dublin. I believe I went into five different bookstores in about three days, including one or two that were obviously chains, but even better, another one or two that were obviously independent (the remaining one may have been a small chain or a Barnes and Noble offshoot, I'm not sure). The consequences of my book binge? I bought six new novels for myself, as well as a novel by an Irish author my mom really likes. These six books included a copy of James Joyce's Dubliners (I've never read it, and Dublin seems like the best possible place to buy a copy), and five different Scandinavian crime novels, my favorite genre lately. I also bought a cloth bag at one of the bookstores - these are great for transporting library books or books in general - as well as a number of leather bookmarks at the other places I visited, which my family calls "smelly bookmarks" because of the distinctive new-leather smell they have. I have no idea how I'm going to get all of these books home, since I already have about ten in my room in Denmark, but I'll make it work, even if I wind up shipping some of them home.

This brings me to the deeper nature of my booklust. Everyone's got a place where they generally feel calm and happy, and for me, that place is a bookstore or library. I have already talked about how reading has been a big part of my life since even before I was old enough to read, so I guess it's only natural that a building full of books is my sanctuary. I love the smell of used bookstores, which you only find there and in some older libraries, just as I love the smell of a new book. I love sitting down with a new, pristine paperback, and then finishing it later to find that I've left all kinds of marks and creases in the spine and on the cover in the process - I take generally good care of my books, these are just natural scars. I love starting a book with a fresh cup of coffee or tea and then looking up several minutes later to realize that I've become so enthralled with the story that I've let my drink go cold (or during the summer, that I've let the ice melt). And I especially love that feeling when I close the back cover on a finished book and feel both simultaneously happy and sad - I've reached the conclusion, but my life with the characters ends there (at least until I pick it back up again).

I try to read about six books a semester, and at least that many during the summer. This semester I have far surpassed that - between train commutes, plane rides, and quiet weekend nights in (a favorite time of mine, especially with something to drink and a good book), I'm about to finish my tenth book of the semester, not counting the four I've read for my Scandinavian Crime Fiction class that I would have likely read for fun anyway. Some think that my six book goal is too ambitious; others simply cannot believe I find the time to read that many books for fun in a semester. My secret is to keep a book at my bedside table and try to read a chapter or at least a couple of pages every night before I go to sleep - usually, at some point I get so involved in the book that I make more time for it (even if I have to push less important things like homework or sleep somewhere else).

From time to time, someone will ask me if I have a favorite genre or author, and I honestly don't. Much like listening to music or watching movies, I have a couple favorite books, for sure, but sometimes I feel like reading science fiction, other times I want a hefty non-fiction read, at still other times I want a psychological thriller. Some of my favorites defy labels - for example, Haruki Murakami's Kafka on the Shore is mystery, coming-of-age, and paranormal all in one. No matter what, my favorite book is the one that sucks me in - where the story compels me to read on, and I have to stop myself from finishing it in one sitting.

I'm going to break tradition here and end this post by asking a question, which I'll also ask on Facebook - what are some of your favorite books, and what makes you like them so much?

Cheers!