Here’s my latest book report:
I am getting a little peculiar with my book reading these days; not with the kinds of books I read, but with the way I’m reading them.
It used to be that I’d have one book at a time, and I’d wait until I finished it before I went looking for another one.
Later, I began to feel uneasy about finishing a book and not having another one immediately ready. So I began to acquire another book while still working on the first one, to hold in reserve.
In time, that wasn’t enough, either. I had to have more than one book in reserve. I know it’s not necessary, but I rationalized that I needed more than one go-to book stored away in readiness. That way, I could have choices.
So here’s what it’s come to today (tell me if I’m going crazy, please): I am currently reading four books at a time — re-reading two of them and reading two others that I hadn’t read before.
It’s not that I’m a scholar, of course. As you know, I’m not particularly intelligent. I just like to read books.
But don’t ask me why I’m suddenly compelled to do it this way.
I’m also fussy about where I store these books. I keep two of them (one old, one new) on the side table next to my favorite chair in the living room. I keep the other two (again, one old, one new) in the bedroom within reaching distance of where I lay my head to rest.
If you know a good doctor of psychology, feel free to contact me.
It’s actually quite comfortable to have four good books available all at the same time. In my case, I’ve got physicist and biblical scholar Gerald Schroeder’s “The Science of God” (old) and Stephen Ambrose’s “Crazy Horse and Custer” (new) in the living room. I’ve got David McCullough’s “1776” (old) and David B. Stinson’s “Deadball” (new) in the bedroom.
In case you’re wondering about the subject matter, “The Science of God” is a text exploring how science and the book of Genesis are amazingly in agreement. Ambrose’s book is about (and I quote) “the parallel lives of two American warriors.” McCullough’s book is, of course, about one year in the American Revolution. And “Deadball”, a work of fiction, is called “a metaphysical baseball novel” and it’s about a former minor league baseball player who sees images of deceased major league ballplayers around where a bunch of torn-down ballfields used to be.
Oh, and by the way, I’ve squirreled away six new books for reserve duty.
I just hope that’s enough.