Essays on Books and Life
In a conversation a few weeks ago about books (shocker, I know), Katie asked me how long I’d been doing The Bookshelf. I told her I had no idea. Later, doing some digging, I found that the first edition went out on February 25, 2017. Which means I’ve been doing this for seven years now, more than one-sixth of my life. Not nothing, that.
The original idea was to write something—anything—about books, more or less once a week. Beyond that I didn’t have much of a plan, much less a set format. It took me almost three years before I landed on the configuration that still seems to be working, more than 50 editions later (the present volume notwithstanding). The first Saturday of each month, I write about one book I’ve read recently, one book I’m reading now, and one book I might read next.
I would hope it feels obvious to discerning readers that I have never operated under the belief that the books I happen to be reading are the books you should be reading too. No, prescription is not what I’m trying to do with The Bookshelf. Nor am I necessarily attempting to write critical reviews in the traditional sense; I’d much rather use this space to extol the virtues of good books than to dissect bad ones.
Want to know what I’m really up to? Most of the time, I’m essaying.
You and I know essay as a noun, the term for a relatively short piece of writing that generally aims to inform or persuade or provide a personal point of view. We learn to write essays in elementary school; the word for me will always call to mind my fourth-grade teacher Mr. Ulrich. But essay can also be used as a verb, meaning “to try, attempt, or undertake.” It comes from the Latin word exagium, for “the act of weighing.”
In the essays that constitute The Bookshelf, then, I am not really giving a gladiatorial thumbs up or down to particular books. Rather, in choosing to reflect on the work of thoughtful, nuanced authors, I’m most interested in the ways their ideas and arguments and all manner of imaginative gifts might resource us—for our own formation, and for our lives in the world.
In these essays I am interpreting, wondering, and weighing. And I’m inviting you to that holy work as well, every time you sit down to read a book. Or, ya know, a newsletter about books.
Of course, I hope that occasionally you will come across a book in The Bookshelf that you do choose to read. When you read that book, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. And when your own literary wanderings lead you to hidden treasures, please don’t forget to tell me about them.
