There are a great many things I would like to accomplish in the New Year. Keep up with my blog more, for one. Lose a few pounds. Completely balance my budget. Exercise at least twice a week. Find a job. Learn how to sew.
Yet, reviewing these, none are quite satisfactory as a New Year's Resolution.
Some (budget, job) are too obvious. I'm an adult. (Sometimes. I do try.) That sort of crap needs to be done anyway, and I can't wait for the New Year every several months to kick-start me into behaving like one; I'd be consistently broke by my birthday.
Others (lose weight, exercise) are too common. EVERYBODY goes on a new diet/exercise plan on January 1. The first two weeks of the year, the YMCA population triples and Jenny Craig makes 45% of her annual profit. I don't want to be one of those 800 new members waiting in line for the treadmill, stuffing my freezer with Lean Cuisine and stocking up on celery. In hipster, it's too M A
I N S T R e a m . . . . lol. Not that I'm not going to make the attempt to be healthier.
Learning to sew or do something new would be fun, I think, but ultimately, it's superfluous. Not a priority. I realize that that's often the point of a New Year's Resolution; to make time for something that one would like to do but wouldn't ordinarily prioritize. However, I've come up with something better, or at least something I want more.
As I was considering and discarding the above ideas, I was also in the process of shelving a number of cheap (but quality!) paperbacks I'd picked up at a used bookstore over the break. I evaluated the number of (pardon my immodesty) high-quality pieces of literature adorning my bookcase, purchased over the course of years with an earnest, good-faith intent to read every one; an astonishing number of which have never left the shelf except during my brief relocation this fall.
THEREFORE, I hereby resolve, in this year two thousand and twelve, to read my bookshelf.
This is it:
It's built into my bedroom wall. Cool, right? It's one of my favorite features of my new apartment. Along with the stained glass window. And the porch/sunroom. And the massive pantry! Ok, the new apartment is just all-around terrific. Ahem.
It (bookshelf) contains 110 novels, give or take two shelves of poetry compilations, plays, short stories, Icelandic sagas, theological works and Saints' biographies. I want to read them all, even the ones already read. The ratio is about half and half, but of the ones I've read the ones that I truly remember and still affect me are much a much smaller percentage. For this reason, I am not reading for speed. What I really want to do is internalize, think about and remember everything I'm reading, not just browsing words for the sake of putting them into my head just to leak out my ears.
THEREFORE, I further resolve to write about everything I'm reading. This will also help me keep up on my blogging. I'll write at least once about each book. To recommend it one way or the other, or to vocalize whatever comes to my mind when wrestling with the text. My purpose, ultimately, is to constantly seek the answer to the question, why? Why pursue literature? Why do words tantalize me so, draw me in and strike me? Why set a resolution in the first place? Why am I bothering with all this reading, anyway? Why do I want to do it? Maybe I'll know by this time next year.
Signed this day the 9th of January, 2012
I forgot to add, I'll update when I'm reading a new book, anyone that wants to follow along with me, I love discussion!
...who am I kidding, who has time for that??