Sex vs. Books (Part Two)

Orwell, you had it so wrong.

 


I'm sorry, I should explain myself.  I have just re-read George Orwell's essay "Books vs. Cigarettes".  He argues that it is actually more affordable to buy books than to spend money on the old nicotine sticks.  Now, maybe back in 1946 when he wrote the essay, the arguments against cigarettes made sense.  But we are in an age where smokers no longer have the respect they once enjoyed, where stores now cannot advertise their particular brands of smokes, and where the information on the link between smoking and cancer is now common knowledge.

But did he have a point?  I wonder about the trade-off between vices.  And yes, I will admit it: reading is my vice.  Not even porn has the same hold over my free time.  I don't keep stacks of videos or magazines in my room or hidden in a box in the basement.  I do however like to keep books in boxes all over the house and I have piles more back home at my parents place.  I did notice how easily I gave up certain books this month when I donated some to a local charity, but I also noted how charged I felt when I passed by a bookstore today to do some Christmas shopping (no falling off the wagon...yet).

Now, I have mentioned porn but not sex (a distinction that I will explore soon).  I feel that the trading of distractions is something that I am always going to have to deal with in my life.  Books provide a means of control that can be more than a little tempting.  If I like a book, I can keep it, put it on a shelf, and return to it when the mood takes me.  If I do not like it, I can put it away, not have to think about it, and never doubt that I am missing something.  Cold?  Yes, but it does not mean that it is not the truth.  As I said, embarrassing and fun...

I know that I have to get over my need to control things.  I also know that I need to talk about why I have to control things.

Wait for the next entry...

Sex vs. Books (Part One)

 
Okay, the move has been made.  I have a room at the front of our place, with a lot of natural light being reflected off of the windows of my neighbours' homes across the road.  Never really considered how I had to watch out for my own privacy after five years living so closely in my own darkness and with no real concept of the word.  It is a type of comfort that I never knew I missed.

Of course, there is another problem.  Books.  Books, books, books...  I have too many of them.  Not the worst addiction to have, but it is still one that I am now have to contend with.  I am not sure how I managed to move around the space I am in with all of the history of my reading around me.  But, I now have a plan.  Donations, re-gifting and not giving a damn.

Now, I think that the title of this particular blog is going to cause a lot of comment.  In fact, I know this already.  A friend has already grilled me by text messages about what I intend to write about with such a title.  Here is a sample of her queries:

• Why sex over books? (Never alleged, but her assumption)
• Why such a choice? (Why not?)
• Why limit yourself? (Not from choice)
• Why choose? 

Now, that last one deserves some thought.  I have thinking back over my life and noting how books, music and film took me away from a lot of the pleasures of a sexual life.  Not being a virgin, I should be happy; being published and able to play the guitar and write a film script, I should be elated.  But as I said, the books are going out the door, bag by bag, box by box.

Maybe a sexual life is in the offing...  Maybe I should learn not to use the word "offing" in a blog.  Either way, this is going to be in multiple parts.

Get ready and get set...  This is going to be embarrassing and fun.