One thing I don’t get in Raphael Chirbes’s diaries is that he never seemed to struggle with what to read. Somehow, he always knew what he should be reading next. If only he could reveal his decision-making method, I would find that extremely helpful. There are so many books that require immediate reading that I feel paralyzed by the wealth of choices. Sometimes I don’t even read because I can’t decide what specifically I should be reading.
I am a typical Buridan’s donkey, torn between identically appealing piles of hay. Chirbes wasn’t a decisive person in other areas of his life. He was racked with doubt and goes on and on about his incapacity to make up his mind. I’m a lot more decisive, not to say impulsive, but in this one area I can’t figure out an organizing principle that would make book choices easier.
What Chirbes and I do share is the outsized importance with which we invest in reading. It’s not a thing that we do. It’s the thing. Everything else organizes itself around this thing. I’m not suggesting that everybody should be like that, God forbid, but some people are. It’s great to know that I’m not alone in this.
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