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To a bibliomaniac like me, reading is utter bliss. There are, according to Jacques Bonnet’s book about books, Phantoms on The Bookshelves, two kinds of bibliomaniacs: the collector and the manic reader. I am both. I buy books whenever I feel the urge to buy one (which is most of the time), and I read whenever and wherever. I cannot imagine life without books. I cannot imagine life without the printed word.
Every chance I get, I read.
I read standing up, lying down, sitting, kneeling, and in every imaginable position where a contortionist could bend and flex body senseless. I read lying down in my bed while I wait for the sleeping pills to kick in. I read while using my little throne of a toilet trying to relieve myself of the eggs and bananas I ate for breakfast. I read while eating dinner and ingesting more food — food that I look forward to relieving myself of because I know I will get a chance to read again the next morning while sitting in my throne. I read at the back of my car while being driven to the office. I read while waiting, in a hotel or a restaurant, for a late client or investor. I read while trying to drown out the ambient noise and the mindless chatter of people in a coffee shop or at an airport.
Reading, I believe, is not just a mere hobby — it is a way of life.
Anthony Burgess once said that there is no better reason for not reading a book than having it.Yes, that may be true for most bibliophiles, who just collect for the sake of collecting, but does his statement apply to hardcore bibliomaniacs like me? Bibliomaniacs who read to hoard information, to learn, to be enlightened, to be entertained, and to just read for the pleasure of reading? Bibliomaniacs who read anywhere and everywhere, anytime and every time?
Perhaps Mr. Burgess, now dead, would have changed his mind, or perhaps, would have qualified his argument, if he met me back in 1993, when he was still alive to meet the future version of me.