Ita est!

When I felt the pity started to prevail in the visit at my grandparents’ flat last night I stepped aside and started exploring the back row of one of the book shelves. It was the first time that I was aware of what of variety of books was hidden there: Maupassant, Goethe, Stephen Zweig, Jane Austen, Fitzgerald, and…

‘Grandma, did you know you have “A word Child” by Iris Murdoch?’

‘Who’s she? I haven’t even heard of that name… Once, together with the good books, you were given lame ones… O! You like her? The book is yours then, actually they are all yours, but take this one with you now if you like it.’

Now it is on my bookshelf, on the pile of books I’ve planned to read soon, and… all of the books I’m reading now. I never read just one book, and now, it seems worse than ever. I’ve been given a lot of books in the last few moths, and I’m getting confused. Neither of them can’t capture my attention entirely, so I read a few other books parallel with the first one. Thus I take the stories and the ideas in small portions; soon I loose my initial interest and I no longer understand the book. At that stage, I want to take a new book and leave the old ones. I am greedy for books. I’ve been living in a house with hundreds of all kinds of books and I’m used to having loads of them. I do not read most of them, and I probably do not understand the ideas of most of them, but I want more. Ha,I feel like rich people’s kids, who are used to having money; who don’t know how to use them properly, they do not understand their meaning, but want a lot more of them.

This makes me feel wealthy! I feel thick with… BOOKS!!!