Books have many uses. For lots of us, they’re a way to briefly escape the world’s worries for a while or vicariously experience places we hope to visit someday. Or if we’re history lovers, we use books to visit different eras such as Jane Austen’s Regency England or World War II.
Yesterday, blogger ChichiKir wrote a brilliant post that quoted famous writers about what books mean to them. She used sayings from Jean-Paul Sartre and Gustave Flaubert. ChichiKir also talked about what reading means to her and why. Go check it out; it’s a post well worth your time. (I’m not kidding. Scram! Go over there! Just come back in a few minutes, will you? *sound effect: blog readers clicking madly on their mouse buttons and laptops* Oh, thanks. Nice to see you back.)
But I notice books have other uses, too. I had a massive book in college that contained all of Shakespeare’s comedies, tragedies, historical plays and sonnets. Personally, I think the book should have been classified as a lethal weapon by the CIA and NSA; it was heavy enough.
I still have the book, too. At the sight of it, even the hardiest burglar shrieks and runs away in utter terror.
Others have used books as paperweights, fans, as a means of preserving flowers (place flowers between two sheets of waxed paper, insert into book and wait a while), or as a prop for keeping a window or door open. One of my relatives even uses a book (an old one, mind you) underneath the leg of an antique iron bed to keep it from shifting back and forth. I’ve even seen photos where people turn old books into sculptures. Clever!
Or if you’re the Seattle Public Library, you can even use books to promote your summer reading program and set a new world record for book dominoes. Enjoy!