How to cull your book collection: lessons from a reluctant editor
After her apartment flooded and she moved somewhere smaller, the author was forced to pare down a sprawling book collection built over nine years. She shares practical lessons for serious collectors for whom the Kondo method is too blunt a tool. Key questions she settled on: can the book be easily replaced, and does owning it carry real emotional or practical value?
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“Books make me so mad.” That’s what my friend, who used to work part-time as a mover, told me when he learned that my husband and I found a new place to live and I had a lot of books that I needed to pack up.
A few weeks ago the apartment we’d been renting for the past nine years flooded. The floors and ceilings were damaged but the books, thank goodness, were all safe. By the time you read this we will have downsized, moving to a new place where no weird mold is growing (a plus!) but that is also a little bit smaller. Which means that I’ve had to confront my book collection, which has grown exponentially over the years with stacks piled on the floor in very particular orders and bookshelves that are crammed.
In pruning my books I learned some important lessons about editing for the advanced collector, the kind who derives joy from too many kinds of books to use the Kondo Method effectively.
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1. It’s time to stop trying to impress some imaginary book critic who might one day look at my shelves.
There are certain books on my shelves by authors who I feel like I should read, but that I will never actually get around to reading. Some of them were purchased back when I was single and looking to impress whoever I thought might show up at my doorstep and clock that I’d read Gogol and Gass. I’m not that person anymore, thank goodness. And if I do ever decide to read The Tunnel , I can get a copy from the library.
2. I do not have to be a completist.
It’s great that there’s a new collection of Eve Babitz’s letters and other ephemera is out now, but that doesn’t mean it has to go right next to Sex and Rage . I’ll stick with the classics. I also don’t need every single work Zadie Smith has ever put out as long as I hold onto the novels and essays that have meant the most to me.
3. If I haven’t read the galley within a year of publication, it’s very unlikely that I will.
This one is a heartbreaker. The publicity cycle moves so fast, and it would be physically impossible for me to keep up. Which doesn’t mean I don’t want to try. The books keep coming even if I still haven’t gotten around to that cool-looking essay collection from 2024.
4. You (I) can’t judge a book by its spine, no matter how pretty it is.
If I had unlimited space I’d proudly display my entire collection of NYRB paperbacks, with their uniform fonts and pleasing color palettes. But for this time around, I’ve got to limit the pretty books to the ones I’ve read and loved or that I might one day want to read (which is still plenty of NYRB titles).
5. Sometimes new information really can change my feelings about an author.
Which is to say I’ve kept the two Alice Munro story collections that are dearest to me, but the rest are being donated.
6. I have to give up on some of my little projects.
Back when Twitter was still a place to talk about books, I had asked users what their favorite underrated novel of all time was. The answers were wonderful and I had ordered a ton of titles from the responses, some new, some used from Thrift Books. They’ve stared at me accusingly ever since. Years later I had to admit to myself that I’d never get around to reading them, which involved coming to grips with time management, mortality, and other unanswerable questions.
7. When friends come over, their books must be on display.
This is non-negotiable. All of my friends’ books are staying put.
8. The books to keep are the ones I keep revisiting.
The most important rule in book collecting is to make sure that the ones that are thoroughly underlined and marked up, the ones you found truly revelatory, are easily accessible. Looking at them every day becomes part of who you are, and to me that’s one of the best feelings in the world.
9. There will always be more books.
I’m not deranged enough to believe that just because my collection is about 300 titles slimmer at this very moment that I’m gonna stay this way for long. And isn’t that great?
10. Tip your movers well.
If you insist on making owning a bunch of books an integral part of your personality, then you must make amends to the people who have to deal with them.
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