Having finished the excellent Sarah Bernhardt biography on Sunday, I was aware of that rare hiatus one might reach very occasionally in which I have nothing lined up to read next. Plenty to re-read, of course, but only Les Faux-Monnayeurs in French that I bought to look up various phrases in the English to see what Gide had written and the abandoned biography of Delmore Schwartz on the shelf.
So I've asked my colleague if he can bring me something in to borrow - either Simon Schama's History of the Jews or one of his Ali Smith's.
The situation made me feel all existential and Sartrean, experiencing the freedom to choose what to read next but with more than 99.9% of world literature unread by me, I soon found that the free will that we flatter and delude ourselves that we have soon became anguish. Once I have settled on a title to read, I will become a being-for-others as they objectify me as a reader of that book but I have embarked on a course of bad faith by opting out of the decision of what to read next by asking somebody else to provide a book for me.
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Perhaps I should read a book about librarianship. The latest crisis was presented by the need for the CDs to take up another shelf, with the Beethoven and Brahms Violin Sonatas due. This meant that either the music books or the Shakespeare biography books need to go elsewhere. Even though my presentatiuon on Shakespeare biography was recently well received and qualifies as a minor specialist subject, the music books won by dint of the powerful case that they should be near the music they refer to. So, the Shakespeare biography books are now on the two-seater settee awaiting a more permanent home.