A castaway in my own sea of books
One of the saddest movies I’ve ever seen is “Cast Away,” the film in which a FedEx worker named Chuck Noland, as played by Tom Hanks, is stranded on an island after a plane crash. Some viewers might find that the last act of the movie is the saddest because of those scenes with the wife he left behind.
But for me, the saddest part is his being on the island with nothing to read. Years come and go and, except for the print on a few boxes that floated ashore with him, Chuck has nothing to read.
I’ve been thinking about that movie a lot lately, as I’m finding myself drowning in books.
We are in the process of downsizing from a large house with many bookshelves to a much smaller house with none. During the 20 years we lived in that house, my family amassed hundreds of books. Those were the years before digital readers and e-book sharing — the years when my regular trips to the bookstore resulted in my driving home with armloads of things I wanted to read. Those were the years I was in a book club, an activity that resulted in a least one new hardcover every month.
But the clear out has begun, and there’s just no room in the new place for 150 books. The process of sorting has been an exercise in futility. It’s like I’m married to every novel I’ve ever read.
I pull a thick James Lee Burke mystery from a box, reach to put it into the “donate” bin, and then pull back. What would Chuck have given to have this book with him? Might he have treated himself to just one page per day, savoring it as if it were a box of chocolates?
I found two old copies of “Silas Marner”, the fifth-grade stalwart almost universally hated. It is one of my favorite classics, but do I need two of them? Reluctantly, one went into the “donate” bin.
But it took about three minutes of indecision to finally give it up.
I have the same problems with any written material: the basement was stacked with newspapers and magazines-things I kept because I thought I might want to re-read something again. Also, there was the guilt: how can I toss these old papers in the trash when our castaway would have given anything to have them?
It is said that writers tend to write what they themselves want to read. That’s true for me: week after week I find myself writing columns based on a small idea that I would like to explore. As I watch “Cast Away” I wonder if Chuck ever thought about writing, just so he had something to read. (Impossible to do without paper and pencil, of course.)
It’s currently fashionable to clear out our homes. The author Marie Kondo is the leader of the movement, encouraging us to toss anything that doesn’t bring us joy. I find it ironic that I read about this in one of her hardcover books.
The amount of books I own is backbreaking. I needed help hauling them to my car and then out again at the donation place. In two days I donated 4 huge bins of books.
There were some I couldn’t part with-those I’ve either read more than once or those I’ve never finished. They are on the floor at the new house, great teetering stacks of them.
Imagine if Chuck had had them on that island.
Beth Dolinar is a writer, documentary producer and college professor. Her work has appeared in newspapers, magazines and on WQED-TV. Born and raised in southwestern Pennsylvania, Beth has degrees from Cal U and from Northwestern University. She and her family live in the Pittsburgh area. Her column appears twice a month in the Herald-Standard. Beth can be reached at bdolinar@aol.com