Read quite an interesting item on the thinking with my fingers blog this morning regarding a place called bookcrossing.com that encourages passing used books along for someone else to pleasure themselves without feeling the pangs akin to your youngest’s first day in kindergarten.
I have already admitted here that I have a sacred reverence for books, and that not only do I hesitate to let them go, as Torill does, but I will not even so much as write my name in them (another good reason for not lending them out for fear of their not being returned). I highlight in textbooks only in the rarest of situations, and scribble in accompanying notebooks instead. This is one area where computers come in handy—cut and paste is worth its weight in gold. I simply paste into an e-mail to myself and send it off. Some day I will need to come to grips with deleting rather than recategorizing my Inbox that holds them, however.
We have a few places locally where books can be bought and sold for dimes and quarters. I practiced this until I realized that I wasn’t bringing any back to sell, just adding mounds to my collection because of their affordability. If I ever design and build our own new house, there will be bookshelves in every room. But then, I wonder if the lumber used will cut into the number of books that can be produced, and there is a moral question for me now.
But Torill’s point for her posting was that in a comment within the bookcrossing website someone had registered 1500 unread books—which turned the whole idea into a game of competition rather than one of reading more and sharing. All this just makes me realize that no matter how far we come in innovative media, social awareness of the ecology and love for our fellowman, there always is what I have come to call the “radar—anti-radar—radar” theory. If you come up with a good idea, someone will find a way to personally benefit from even the most altruistic of intentions.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology