Why one should NEVER get rid of books.
Jun. 17th, 2003 12:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
truepennyI was lying in bed Saturday night, not getting to sleep and for some reason obsessing over my dissertation. (Not in itself a bad thing, but I wish I could manage that level of focus when I'm supposed to be working.) And I suddenly thought, apropos of nothing at all, Equus! It's got a kind of formal Senecanism to it, as The Brotherhood of the Wolf has a very visceral Senecanism; it's a play, and I've read it, and I like it; and it looks all dignified and grown-up and persuasive about this rather sketchy twentieth-century argument I need to write.
I knew I owned Equus, so all was well.
Yesterday, I went to fetch out my copy for a reread and to confirm my memory that there are in fact ghosts of horses in the play, and discovered to my chagrin and amazement that I don't own it any longer. It should be between Shaw and Shepherd and it's just. not. there. (I just got up and went and stared at the drama/poetry bookcase again, and Equus continues obstinately to be conspicuous by its absence.)
Clearly, Equus went in the Great Purge of '01, when we moved into our current apartment. (I got rid of a appalling quantity of books, and our collection still took 40 small book boxes, 10 of which are residing in the attic.) I know what happened. But I have literally no idea of what I could have been thinking. It makes me want to go back in time and dope-smack my former self. Don't get rid of that, you nitwit!
The good news is that Equus is a common sight in used bookstores, so I shouldn't have any particular trouble in acquiring another copy. But I shouldn't have to.
Never get rid of books. Never never never.
I knew I owned Equus, so all was well.
Yesterday, I went to fetch out my copy for a reread and to confirm my memory that there are in fact ghosts of horses in the play, and discovered to my chagrin and amazement that I don't own it any longer. It should be between Shaw and Shepherd and it's just. not. there. (I just got up and went and stared at the drama/poetry bookcase again, and Equus continues obstinately to be conspicuous by its absence.)
Clearly, Equus went in the Great Purge of '01, when we moved into our current apartment. (I got rid of a appalling quantity of books, and our collection still took 40 small book boxes, 10 of which are residing in the attic.) I know what happened. But I have literally no idea of what I could have been thinking. It makes me want to go back in time and dope-smack my former self. Don't get rid of that, you nitwit!
The good news is that Equus is a common sight in used bookstores, so I shouldn't have any particular trouble in acquiring another copy. But I shouldn't have to.
Never get rid of books. Never never never.
