Furniture-shopping rarely inspires deep reflection in me. But yesterday while trying to select a bookcase I was caught off guard by one of those moments that made me say to myself, "Wait, something has changed." I was informed by a sales associate that the limited selection of bookcases was due to the fact that the manufacturers are not making them anymore. Why? Because there is not a demand for them; the more popular pieces are computer desks and entertainment consoles. In the middle of a gigantic furniture store I felt like hanging my head and having a moment of silence for what might soon become a long-lost relic.
This week I watched a program on the plight of tigers in China, on the verge of extinction due to destruction of their natural habitat and illegal hunting. It was interesting to learn of the factors that have contributed to this and what is being done to preserve the species. Many other species are endangered around the world. When we anticipate a loss of something we have always known, it makes us stop and think what life might be like without them. What about future generations who might not ever see the majesty of a live tiger?
I believe the bookcase is significant in that it represents a way of life. Without bookcases I would not be the person I am today. Not only have I been shaped by reading my own books, and pondering their similarities and differences as I group them together on book shelves; I have also been enriched by walking into a friend's home or office and seeing their book-adorned shelves and getting a glimpse of who they are. "You've read (so and so)?! Me too!" We instantly have a connection. Upon seeing many unfamiliar titles I have been inspired to branch out in my reading selections, and have also struck up enriching conversations about new authors to try.
C.S. Lewis wrote, "We read to know that we are not alone." When I first came across this a few years ago it seemed to put into words what I had long been living out. Through reading I was connecting with other minds, both contemporary and those from the past. But now I am wondering . . . what is our current generation doing to know they are not alone? Watching movies? Listening to the radio? Texting? Social-networking? I enjoy many of these things myself. But are they beginning to replace the art of reading? I ask this question as much of myself as I do of my peers.
I do believe that many people still read. Electronic reading devices such as the Kindle are undoubtedly having an effect on the number of physical books being purchased, which may in turn be affecting the need for bookcases. But I suspect that those who do own such devices still own books and bookcases. I won't delve into the issue of electronic reading at this time, since it is a huge topic in an of itself. My main concern here is the changing attitude towards reading. Lately I've become interested in books that deal with the subject of books being banned or outlawed, such as The Giver, Fahrenheit 451, and 1984. What strikes me about these works is that the characters we identify with are the ones who realize that it is somehow unnatural to live without books and (in the latter two) seek to re-acquire them. Contrast this with our society today, in which books are readily available but often ignored. Ironically, two of these three books (The Giver and 1984) have been on banned books in the U.S. Banning a book that exposes the perils of book-banning? Something to think about.
I will wrap this up with a question that may prompt some further thought: How would you describe the concept of a bookcase to a young person, generations from now, after they have become a thing of the past? I don't know exactly how I would answer it, but I think my response would include something about how it housed the voices of many friends, unlikely companions who came together into a physical space by my will and choosing. Many of them disagreed with each other, and that's okay. No, we are not alone. And there's always room for one more.
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