To Quote

"I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of any thing than of a book! -- When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library." Elizabeth Bennet/Pride and Prejudice.

I had the distinct privilege of helping sort out a family friend's personal library the other day. Perhaps because it fulfilled my childhood dreams of being a librarian, or perhaps because it meant I could spend hours surrounded by my favourite companions - words.

Books are beautiful things. I know, I'm coming across a-grade hipster right now but there's just so much pleasure to be gained by the collection of papers, bound, which tell a story. There's an enigmatic enjoyment of stepping into another realm of life merely by training our eyes on printed words. I've concluded there's nothing more appealing than a man whose intelligence is encouraged by the reading of literature. And I'd consider it a loss of value in life if I don't grow myself a worthy personal library of books.

Of course it's not all fiction, the information to be gained by reading a torrent of non fiction books on a variety of subjects is phenomenal. Personally I'm interested in matters of faith, spirituality and religion - so I've been enamoured by the options and books available to me that are providing a wealth of knowledge on my interests. And poetry, although not normally my preferred style, is endearing; the thought that a collection of Emily Dickinson's works is en transit to me is, well, truly exciting. And perhaps a far too telling truth of just how exciting my life is.

It's when I look at my own library, small as it may be, and see the Confessions of St. Augustine alongside Nabokov's Lolita, just a few books down from Tozer, which is leaning against a collection of essays on NZ's Political situation that I have a chuckle. Books are timeless pieces yet they reveal so much about the time they're written in. St. Augustine's endeavours and ideas are complex yet revealing things on the venerability of personal faith, while Lolita is a book that questions the sanctity of lust and boundaries. How glorious is that coupling! How far fetched would a dinner with the righteous Augustine and the righteously controversial Nabokov be; yet here they are sitting next to each other!

Simple pleasures but pleasures which keep me coming back for more. As I sorted through shelves and shelves of books I had to wonder: had this person even read all of these texts? Did they even care? Could they even remember what had been written/said about each book, the stories it'd shared, the meanings it had tried to express? Possibly not, but what greater company than that of those who'd engaged themselves enough in study to write about something! Whether each book is analytically studied or placed on a shelf for reference, at least the effort is made. The honour bestowed, the appreciation shown.

Walter Savage Landor asked: "for what is reading but silent conversation". And quite truly - there is no greater companionship than a book's words to you, than the thoughts shared and philosophies received. From my days of going on adventures with Nancy Drew, Bess and George, to now when I'm engaging in the constructs of Eugene Peterson's spiritual reading anthology, I'm continually pleased and pleasured by my journeys. Think of it not as reading, but conversation, and you've created a wellspring of intellectual enrichment for life.