Not only do I not have enough shelf space any more for the books that crawl into my room for refuge, I suspect that if I give up my library membership this year, I will still have enough to sustain me for a good long while.
Is this a boast? Probably. It also feels like a sword hanging over my head.
What I've recently acquired includes (but doesn't entirely cover):
The Man Without Qualities, After Nature, The Collected Essays of Ralph Ellison, Cultural Amnesia, Magic Mountain, Elisabeth Costello, Selected Poems - Borges, City of Water, Columbus (Sabatini. Yay!), The Seducer's Diary, The Committed Men, the remaining Earthsea books I did not own, a Susan Cooper I have never seen and have left with my son (forgotten the name!), The Graveyard Book, Poverty and Plastic, a huge bunch of Agha Shahid Ali (but no, not The Veiled Suite).
Some of these books were gifts or exchanges of one kind or another.* I wish someone would now start gifting me bookshelves (this is not a complaint about the books I am given, though).
Dithering between the Musil and the Coetzee. Any opinions?
*Still waiting for my YBT. You listening?