Walter Benjamin on his library

 I am looking at deep piles of books, stacked against four walls. I’m supposed to be thinking about what kind of shelves would make order out of this chaos.

Instead, I’m thinking of Walter Benjamin’s essay “Unpacking My Library.”

I tell myself this: I like to write, which is just a way of thinking. And because I write, I think I might use all these books before I die.

Having a library is practical, I tell myself. 

But that’s not completely true, and Benjamin points out why it’s not. To a collector, each book is a prize, not just an object. It has a history as well as a use.

Every passion borders on the chaotic, but the collector’s passion borders on the chaos of memories.

I can see, in these stacks of books, evidence of the passions of a younger self, interested in Greek thinkers and grammar, Wittgenstein, Hume, botany, astronomy and poets, essayists and short story writers.