One of my least favorite sentences to hear is “We need to get rid of some books.”
I bet that made some of you twitch, too. When my wife said this to me recently, my immediate reaction was denial. What do you mean we have to get rid of books? They’re books! Unfortunately, the clear, simple logic of that argument is a bit too simple and oddly unconvincing, and while I may object to the necessity of the task, I’m not actually delusional. Not about this, anyway. As I looked around our apartment, even I had to admit that we have a book problem.
The thing is, I’ve never considered it a problem. Out of all the vices I could be into, collecting books is the most harmless. They’re books. Books are good, worthy things. The more, the better — except when you’re getting ready to move, or when you need to make more space in your apartment to, you know, live in.
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