My German friend affectionately teases me that I am a bookworm, or as she would say, a “Leseratte,” translated as a “reading rat.” Not to sound disparaging, she quickly adds that this rodent is a playful creature who reads constantly.
Lately, I have taken notice of how frequently book titles and story settings center around places that serve as abodes, whether permanent or temporary to books. These homes are libraries, bookstores, or crowded bookshelves. This is not surprising, since writers are often avid readers themselves. As a book addict, I am aware of the irresistible attraction of used bookstores, second hand stores, library catalogs, or local rummage sales. In multiple ways, these special spaces draw me in just as surely as a confectionary would entice a chocolate lover.
I find myself resonating with Jorge Luis Borges’ vision when he says, “I have always imagined paradise will be a kind of library.” I can catch a glimpse of eternal joy in his picturesque imaging.
“I have always imagined paradise will be a kind of library.”
In a world that often moves too fast, bookish spaces invite us to slow down, explore, and connect. They offer refuge, inspiration, challenges, and comfort. For those of us who cherish them, they are little gems of paradise.
-Sister Nancy Wales, CSJ
“At a time when our discourse seems so sharply polarized… books have always been a way for me to slow down and absorb the world.”
