Dead Man's Books

I have about four thousand books in my library. A good start. Every once in awhile – or less often than that – I go through and toss a few, usually because I have to make room for more. It makes me wonder if books breed. I suppose I should get rid of more because someday somebody who is not me is going to have to deal with all those books since I probably will not do it before I check out of the library myself.

This especially occurred to me recently when someone donated about three dozen boxes of books to Chesterton Academy. All of the books in our school library have been donated. Most of them have been donated by priests, and most of these priests were dead when they donated them. Not surprisingly many of these books are religious in nature. Some, even less shockingly, tend to be overtly Catholic. Probably why a modest and infant Catholic high school was an easy target to throw them at.

The latest stash, however, came from a layman who had lived into his 90's. The boxes were unloaded into my garage for me to sort out so I could send the sheep to the school library and the goats to the nether regions.

I had met the gentleman several years ago when he came to a Chesterton conference. He had obviously been a faithful Catholic, judging from his books, and he'd been one for a long time, again judging from the books. And interestingly, there were more breviaries in his collection than I've ever seen in a priest's library. 

There were no treasures, as it were. One always hopes to stumble on that rare first edition, or even that scarce copy that everyone is always looking for. But there were some gems: two relatively unknown books by Ronald Knox: The Layman and His Conscience and Stimuli; Saints Who Made History by Maisie Ward (didn't know about that one), and Frank Sheed's A Map of Life (knew about that one, but had never had my hands on a copy.) Maisie Ward was G.K. Chesterton's official biographer. Frank Sheed was her husband. Their other collaboration, besides marriage, was the great publishing house, Sheed and Ward. The boxes contained many books they had published, which meant they were worthwhile

As I sifted, I found two books that struck me as ones I want to read: Russian Journal by Andrea Lee, and Maryknoll's Anthology of Mission Literature. (The Table of Contents convinced me, with names like Damian and Dooley).

There were novels that you've never heard of, and since I'm not going to tell you what they were, you still haven't heard of them. But one of them intrigued me: Miracle in the Drawing Room by Edwin Greenwood. Sounded like a Bruce Marshall book and was equally forgotten and worth rediscovering.

There was a large box full of books about children's literature. Not books of children's literature but books about children's literature, including one called The Real Personages in Mother Goose. Though that box might have been a bit esoteric, there were several boxes that indicated that the late old gentleman cared about young people. There were at least two whole boxes of books on how to explain the faith to teenagers. These were probably very good except for the fact that they were no good at all. The problem with appealing to young people is that if you try too hard to be up to date, you are already out of date by the time you arrive. Fashions fade. And fast. Ironically the books from the 1970's and 80's seemed old and obsolete, while books from the 30's and 40's – and earlier – seemed relevant because they were timeless. Non-fiction books for young people have to keep being rewritten. Even if the arguments do not go out of date the books somehow do. But the straightforward books on apologetics that were not aimed at that elusive target of fleeting youth, that did not condescend to any reader, were just as fresh and fascinating as ever, even if the covers were worn and the pages smelled a little musty.

For instance, there was a three-volume set of Radio Replies, published in the 1940's. Engaging Q & A based on a program from the Catholic Broadcasting Corporation in Sydney, Australia, but published in St. Paul, Minnesota. Literally millions of these books circulated in high schools, colleges, Newman Centers, and seminaries and novitiates. The third volume is introduced by a certain Monsignor Fulton Sheen. He says, “The Church has always loved controversy because it helps her sharpen her wits.” And the authors, Fr. Leslie Rumble and Fr. Charles Carty, do not shy away from any tricky topic. In dealing with the question of divorce, their answer is both profound and prophetic: “Divorce is an insult to human nature, and will have its sure revenge.” Nothing out of date about these answers.

I will say I was pleased to run across a copy of Alfred Hitchcock Presents Stories for Late at Night, with the cover depicting the famous director of suspense carrying his detached head under his arm. Which I suppose brings me to the next one which invited browsing:  Burning Ice: The Moral and Emotional Effects of Reading. Written by a nun, Sr. Mary Corde Lorang, it was filled with lots of data showing the good effects of reading good books and the bad effects of reading bad books. It was written in 1967.

Earlier I wondered if books breed. There are, however, those who worry that books are becoming extinct. People are reading screens instead of books. If they're reading at all. Bookstores, even used bookstores, are going out of business. But that is less because people have stopped reading than that they have succumbed to a behemoth who went from being a bookseller to a seller of everything, and the mindless masses keep feeding the beast while they are being eaten themselves.

But books will never die because nothing can quite match the quaint and peaceful evenings we can spend with them. I am aware of this most strikingly during those evenings spent sitting in my garage reading discarded books. 

Did I mention that there was even a book by G.K. Chesterton? Varied Types. From 1914. I've already read it, but maybe you haven't. If you have, you would have read this line: “We are learning to do a great many clever things . . . the next thing we are going to have to learn is not to do them.”