They say reading makes you more empathetic. You become more aware of the people around you, and find yourself more able to imagine what they might be going through. In short, readers are wonderful, kind people. However, some time ago, I saw something that made me wonder if one can take it too far. Want to know why? Read on!
A couple of weeks ago, I went to Maastricht with a friend. We were going to walk around town, have some nice food, and simply have a good time there. Oh, and of course I wanted to go to this supposedly beautiful bookshop, which was located inside a medieval church. I wanted to go, partly because, obviously, I can’t go on a city trip without visiting at least one bookshop, and partly because I wanted to find out whether books look happier in a beautiful bookshop.
Yes, I am fully aware it sounds like I’m losing my marbles. But please be honest here, why else do we put so much effort into putting all our books in the right order? Whether it’s alphabetically, chronologically, by genre or, if you really have to, by colour – I am convinced it’s not just because it makes us feel better. No, it’s because we like to think books are happier when they’re with their peers.
Let’s return to the bookshop. When I ascended the stairs on my way to the English section, I discovered two books lying there, one of them on its back, staring helplessly at the ceiling, and the other face down, overthinking its sins and wondering what on earth it had done to deserve this. They must have fallen behind their rows and been left behind. I wondered who had done this to them. I wondered how long they had been lying there.
I hate loneliness. I hate bullying. I hate people excluding others. It always breaks my heart, and I wish I could do something about it. Seeing those books made me think about how terribly sad they must have been, without anyone to pick them up and read their blurbs so they might consider buying them. Now they could not unveil their innermost secrets and hidden lessons to prospective readers. Instead, they were doomed to lie there. Forever. I turned to my friend and pointed to these books. Now there were two people who had seen them and would never forget them – and now they have even been immortalised in this blog. I bet they would have liked that.
They say reading makes you more empathetic. On some occasions, however, I think it would serve me to be a little less so.
Have you ever felt like books were living, breathing, feeling things? Do you always take care of your books? What would you do if you noticed some abandoned books? Please let me know in the comments! Also, don’t forget to follow me for more book-related posts!
The Open Book 