That's Not All

This, of course, is not the end of the Niche of Time, although it is the conclusion of my Biographical List of Books for now. Posting will probably slow down, but there will always be new things that I remember for the Shadow Library, and of course there is no reason for Items from the Wish List to ever stop, as there is always something new being added that takes my fancy.

Actual listings for physical books that I acquire will be few and far between. After all, the Inventory was built up, like a stalactite, slowly and steadily over the course of years and may not be expected to grow very fast, especially now that my funds and opportunities are severely limited.

And what a strange and oddly assorted mix it appears, with books ranging from “Rabbit and Skunk and the Scary Rock” up to the collected works of William Shakespeare. There are books here (mainly in the Shadow Library but some still on my shelves) that I would not have wasted my time and money on if I knew then what I know now. But you cannot live your life backward, and maybe even the worst of them have taught me some kind of lesson, if only as a cautionary tale.

It has been a very compelling endeavor so far. It began months ago when I decided to write up a list of my books, then decided to expand that list with comments, then to include pictures of the books (or near enough), and finally to dedicate a blog to the results. It grew into an informal memoir, and a meditation on the growth of Fantasy literature, and especially of Tolkien and the augmenting respect shown him over the decades. Fantasy has gone from a quaint little slum to a respectable neighborhood to a development overgrown with McMansions and suburban fabrications. But there are still classy areas to be visited.

I found it a most interesting quest, at that. Sometimes I have uncovered images for more than two dozen editions of a book, every one you could possibly desire (some quite beautiful) except, of course, for the podgy, quirky little edition I wound up with. But in the end, there were few that totally evaded my search (so great has the stretch of the internet become); where they have done so I have dutifully noted it.

My collection (such as it is) has been made by the whims of time, opportunity, and financial resources. Many today will not understand how we suffered at the caprices of the trade in the days before Amazon, especially if you were poor and lived in a small town. Used-book stores, discount catalogs, garage sales, outright gifts, and even the revolving displays in convenience stores have all played their part. Sometimes a volume has been eagerly sought, other times bought in a desperate bid for entertainment. I cannot tell you on how many occasions, wishing for some other fantasy novel, I have settled for getting a Piers Anthony. Some of my books have been read many times; others still await my attention or that moment when I finally decide that they can go at last and seek another reader.

For that is inevitably the fate of a book, if it’s not simply worn to rags. The day will come when all my library will be dispersed, some to go to my family, some to be sold again, but never more to be in this gathering. Even here the assemblage will shrink and grow, some going into the Shadow Library, and with any luck some shelves making room to accommodate new fellows. But for now, in this Niche of Time, they stand commemorated. And who knows how long that this may last?