y bookshelf is an aesthetic nightmare. Far from being a picturesque Zoom backdrop, it is a cluttered space, a shanty settlement of books of all shapes, sizes and genres. The shelves mounted against the walls of my room aren’t just functional storage units, but also a home for my treasured books. Their chaotic, almost ghetto-like, exterior masks a sense of order only I can fathom. For others, it’s a secret code they have struggled to crack for years.
“You have a lot of books,” I am often told by those who cast judgmental glances at my shelves as if possessing books were a felony or a sin. Resisting the temptation to snap back with a sharp rejoinder, I usually nod, smile and briskly change the topic.
Driven by a heady mix of exasperation and concern, some friends and family members have offered well-meaning, though unnecessary, advice on how I can spruce up my bookshelf. Over the years, I’ve received a slew of furniture catalogues dotted with images of “stylish, high-quality” bookcases. Some relatives have even forwarded links to articles with tips on arranging a bookshelf, prodding me to take the dreaded leap.
At first, I viewed these suggestions as kind gestures fuelled by a desire to save the books I adored from a dizzyingly messy filing system. Ashamed at my own ignorance, I envied the rigour and ease with which librarians collect and arrange books, finding a semblance of structure in what could easily become a sea of chaos.
In an effort to rectify my mistake, I leafed through a catalogue and was instantly confronted by the sheer inadequacy of my knowledge about bookshelves. I couldn’t tell if open-backed shelves were more suitable than alcove shelves. The more I waded through an ocean of choices,........