Browsing my children’s shelves, I understand how the books we read make us who we are
It’s why we keep books, isn’t it, for the little ghosts of our past selves contained within?
We’re having a book clear-out, partly triggered by the youngest, who has been home over Easter and decided to finally rid his room of all the books I have forced on him since childhood. At least, that’s probably how he views it. He was never an avid reader, despite having loved bedtime stories when he was small. As he grew, he drifted away from books, finding that they couldn’t quite hold his attention. Too many other things were more immediate, more distracting.