Tiny Planet

Enough books to keep you busy on a cold night

Some might even call them children. When in doubt, there is always the consolation of philosophy… or the consolation of books, at least. I find myself in a very strange place: I have far too many books for one man, and yet I feel as if I need more. This is not, I hope you understand, an impulsive binge-buying outlet, but rather my own little attempt at gathering my interests. I haven’t even read all of the ones I have, although in some cases I never will as that particular fancy has drifted off.

Perhaps it’s the simple fact that there is so much to be learned from books (I love learning). Perhaps I like how the occasional colourful turn of phrase keeps me interested (here’s a nice passage from Joseph Conrad’s The Secret Agent, where an anarchist dwells on the futility of his endeavours: “He drank and relapsed into his peculiarly close manner of silence. The thought of a mankind as numerous as the sands of the seashore, as indestructible, as difficult to handle, oppressed him. The sound of exploding bombs was lost in their immensity of passive grains without an echo.”) Perhaps there’s an element of the collector in me (I especially like the Thames & Hudson and Norton Critical Edition series).

This collection was one of my biggest splurges. Only time will tell if it was a sound investment.

Whatever the root cause of my acquisitions, spending the last day or so cataloguing and tabulating my small library — because it has expanded in the last three years and some have gone missing — has put me more in touch with what had, for some time, been mere volumes on the shelves. Small flashes of memory and connection as I thumbed through a tome looking for some small detail or description. Paths abandoned for lack of time, others for diminished interest. And yet above all else came the feeling that this is not the end of it, even if I never read every book in full. There will be more additions, and there are decades yet ahead of me to pursue new and even more obscure interests.

But where will I put them all?

China’s output per head of population is smaller than Albania’s. Except China could probably buy swathes of the planet.

Wooly mammoth DNA decoded. Am I the only one who wants to see this species roam the Earth again?

A gallery of the greatest conspiracy theories.

Prices at Dubai’s Palm developments are down 40% to a paltry $2.7m.

Vive la France (in digital library terms at least).

It seems 21% of Americans can’t find the Pacific Ocean on a map. On the plus side, 94% can find the US.

The fakir who was buried alive for 40 days.

Dark Roasted Blend has a nice review up of Alfred Bester’s The Computer Connection as part of the site’s look at some classic science fiction.

I haven’t read that novel yet, but The Demolished Man and The Stars My Destination (originally called Tiger! Tiger! after the William Blake poem) are among my favourite books. Although they were written in the 50s, they are still fresh and accessible, dealing as they do with justice, freedom and human potential.

His use of technology as aiding punishment in The Demolished Man is excellent and not at all unrealistic: the point is that this is an extreme, but effective, form of chastisement in a possible future. Whether the demolition of a human’s mind is ethical is another point, but it makes you ponder the limits of justice: should we allow science and technology to advance to the point where it can completely dominate the individual, or maintain more traditional forms of punishment. It also throws up a traditional literary motif, which is what can happen if such power can be abused.

The Stars My Destination has a reasonably light beginning regarding teleportation through willpower, but is a profound story on humanity’s potential when it thinks outside the familiar three dimensions. Not at all upbeat yet no less valuable for it, the novel also silently wonders about how society so readily forms into classes and hierarchies.

I managed to keep my nose out of the company book sale today. Not much of an achievement, I hear you snort, but when you’re as compulsive about acquiring books as I am, it’s something. My head overruled my heart here: I have too many books and not enough time to read them. A small something, to be sure, but certainly out of character for me.

A truncated links compendium as I’m exhausted and have one of them work-jobby things to do.

Two years tweeting (Inside View/Bernie Goldbach)

The 10 most outrageous opening lines in literature (Alternative Reel, via Rick O’Shea)

Taking note of old Europe (Strange Maps)

“Clean” coal’s dirtiest secret (Scholars and Rogues)

I have a very long way to catch up with Luis Soriano, who brings his mobile library from village to village in Colombia.

“I started out with 70 books, and now I have a collection of more than 4,800,” said Soriano, 36, a primary school teacher who lives in a small house here with his wife and three children, with books piled to the ceilings.

“This began as a necessity, then it became an obligation, and after that a custom,” he explained, squinting at the hills undulating into the horizon. “Now,” he said, “it is an institution.”

I haven’t quite got to the “piled to the ceilings” point, although I do have a few hundred books scattered about the place and in some interesting, if impractical for use, stacks.

Family faces eviction over Hallowe’en display. (Irish Independent)

Gap widens between British and Irish fortunes — for now. (Slugger O’Toole)

Cork and Cobh are rated dirtiest. (The Irish Times)

Low budget Lollywood zombies invade India. (The National)

A powerful memorial. (Jeff Jarvis)

ArtSunday: The nonlinearity of influence. (Scholars and Rogues)

Yahoo plans cost-cutting moves, layoffs. (CNet)

Some papers in financial trouble are leaving the AP to cut costs. (International Herald Tribune)

BoingBoing is getting very excited about the upcoming adaptation of Joe Haldeman’s novel, though to be honest I’m not a big fan of it. I bought it as part of the Sci-fi Masterworks series and, while it had interesting things to say, it didn’t really grab hold of my imagination. Perhaps I am too removed from its Vietnam war subtext. Ridley Scott could do good things with the material, though, so I remain open to it, if and when it gets off the ground.

One of my colleagues points out that the title was also used by the New York Times reporter Dexter Filkins for his book on Iraq. Can we expect the Scott film to follow along the same lines? Iraq has dragged down US films at the box office, so only time will tell.

Over on his blog, Paolo Coelho posts snippets of writing, usually involving a lesson or life advice. There’s a nice one up today about doing the most with the time you have on this planet.

On his tombstone, he had the following epitaph engraved:

“A life which ends with death, is a life not well spent.”

I like the piece because it does not necessarily preach about what one should do to ensure future generations remember them, it just gives an example of one character. Coelho will live on through his writing — The Alchemist in particular — much as Shakespeare has. It’s also important to note that Abin-Alsar, the character in the blog posting, does not achieve world fame or glory, but rather makes life better for the people of his town. A local but beloved immortality.

Bill and his commenters have had some fun condensing classic works of literature into six words. Go take a look!