Charles Mosley's Blog - Posts Tagged "boston"
books people buy but don't read
On the BBC World Service last Friday, 7 Oct (2011), I was interviewed about a quaint and rather pathetic little phenomenon. It seems lots of people buy books they never read.
I don't mean books they mean to read one day but haven't got round to doing. We all do that. Or rather, those of us who buy books do.
I mean people who buy books to seem brighter than they are. More sophisticated. More intelligent. More sensitive. Better educated. In short, to impress others.
Sometimes they leave the books face up on a coffee table, sometimes spine outwards on a prominent bookshelf, with a spotlight or ray of sunshine illuminating it.
Sometimes, when out and about in public, they hold the book 'under' their arm at such an angle as to ensure the title is legible.
I once knew a Boston girl whose mother kept a Shakespeare First Folio or Gutenberg Bible - some bibliographic rarety anyway - permanently open on a lectern in their drawing room.
When summoned to admit a caller it therefore looked as if she'd been interrupted while browsing amidst the lushest pastures in Western Civilisation's cultural demesne.
Enough sneering. We're all far too mature to do it now. But confess, wasn't there a time once, in your adolescence or early post-university years, when you leaned that way? Left Foucault and Derrida and Lacan and dear old Marcuse around in case someone happened by? I know I did.
But here's the rub. The books that are most 'on display' in the way I've earlier described aren't the biggies: Finnegans Wake, The Critique of Pure Reason, A Brief History of Time, A la recherche du temps perdu.
No. In order of 'what-Mr-or-Mrs-Average-thinks-will-most-impress-the-neighbours' they are Pride and Prejudice, The Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter [presumably the entire cycle] and The Hobbit.
Blimey. If that's the 'difficult' stuff, what's the holiday beach paperback choice going to be?
Answer: Collins, Fielding and Steele.
Not Mr Collins in P and P. Not the Henry F who gave us Tom Jones. Not the Richard S of Spectator fame.
Rather, Jackie. Helen. And Danielle.
I don't mean books they mean to read one day but haven't got round to doing. We all do that. Or rather, those of us who buy books do.
I mean people who buy books to seem brighter than they are. More sophisticated. More intelligent. More sensitive. Better educated. In short, to impress others.
Sometimes they leave the books face up on a coffee table, sometimes spine outwards on a prominent bookshelf, with a spotlight or ray of sunshine illuminating it.
Sometimes, when out and about in public, they hold the book 'under' their arm at such an angle as to ensure the title is legible.
I once knew a Boston girl whose mother kept a Shakespeare First Folio or Gutenberg Bible - some bibliographic rarety anyway - permanently open on a lectern in their drawing room.
When summoned to admit a caller it therefore looked as if she'd been interrupted while browsing amidst the lushest pastures in Western Civilisation's cultural demesne.
Enough sneering. We're all far too mature to do it now. But confess, wasn't there a time once, in your adolescence or early post-university years, when you leaned that way? Left Foucault and Derrida and Lacan and dear old Marcuse around in case someone happened by? I know I did.
But here's the rub. The books that are most 'on display' in the way I've earlier described aren't the biggies: Finnegans Wake, The Critique of Pure Reason, A Brief History of Time, A la recherche du temps perdu.
No. In order of 'what-Mr-or-Mrs-Average-thinks-will-most-impress-the-neighbours' they are Pride and Prejudice, The Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter [presumably the entire cycle] and The Hobbit.
Blimey. If that's the 'difficult' stuff, what's the holiday beach paperback choice going to be?
Answer: Collins, Fielding and Steele.
Not Mr Collins in P and P. Not the Henry F who gave us Tom Jones. Not the Richard S of Spectator fame.
Rather, Jackie. Helen. And Danielle.
