Inga: “Zere’s nozzing here but books and papers.
Victor: “Books and papers . . . it is! This is my grandfather's private library! I feel it!”
This week saw, at last, the conclusion of my latest Marie Kondo sweep through my library, and — as of this morning — the recommencing of my disposal of papers. It has been quietly emotional as some things have resurfaced, either to retain or cast out.
My shelves are used more efficiently now, and while I still have a lot of books, I felt a rush of lightness when I realized Wednesday afternoon that I’d finally gone through them all. And I am surprised at some of the volumes I’m letting go. A few were gifts at different points in my life (The Portable D.H. Lawrence, The Movie Lover), some were momentary enthusiasms I know I won’t consult again (a history of ginseng, The Jefferson Bible, The 100 Thing Challenge), and some were actually duplicates of books I already have (Among the Nudists, The Swimming-pool Library). The Bible the church gave me when I was confirmed is on the pile. I use Mother’s Bible now, and the only reason I was keeping it was because it had my name embossed on the cover.
Earlier this year I shredded hundreds and hundreds of pages of old financial documents that I had carefully filed in chronological order in a couple enormous three-binders . . . and never consulted again. Today begins the next part of this leg of The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, so of course it started with a six-page letter from Mother, written from the rental house in 1985, full of news of her relatives in Minnesota and a couple news clippings about Governor Edwards’ trial*. Letters and photographs, Ms. Kondo teaches us, firmly belong at the end of the process in the category of “Sentimental,” and I can already see the wisdom of that . . . and know how long that’s going to take.
Instead I turned to a plastic milk crate full of (this will not surprise you at all) my college notebooks. Laura and I tossed out Mother’s collection of her college notebooks without turning a hair, so I knew I wouldn’t be keeping this stuff. But I was looking for something specific, too. Probably the best paper I wrote in four years as an undergrad was a two-pager for Mythology on the symbolism of a Greek artifact at the MFA** that featured Herakles being mounted by a nymph. I got an A on that paper . . . but when I went to reclaim it, the TA couldn’t find it. So my notes on that paper are all I’ve got! And I found my Mythology notebook, so let’s hope my draft is in there.
The journey through those notebooks showed me that my handwriting used to be smaller, rounder, and a bit more precise than it is now. It also revealed some very bad poetry, bad doodles of vintage costumes, and sometimes notes about how I was feeling at the start of class. I did not find the syllabus from the professor that ended with “No extensions, no compassion,” but since I’ll never forget that line, I’ll never need to have that copy!
I’m so glad I’m taking this journey now.
*That took me back to the world before the internet, when the world press was not just a click or two away!
**Later I realized this work had been donated by E.P. “Ned” Warren, a noted homosexual of the period.