I've been reading Mary Karr's The Art of Memoir lately---thanks, Austin---which, besides the needlessly excessive display of intricate diction and Texan-American sauce slathered royally throughout all chapters that endlessly rankle me as a non-native English reader (see, I can do that too), does contain lots of great insights in how to compose a memoir.

In one of the earlier chapters, she probes: what is the ultimate proof of a truly compelling memoir? The answer is when one cannot resist the urge to re-read such a book. And to me, when thinking about books and re-reading them in general, that rang very much true. I own lots of classic fantasy novel series (Terry Brooks, Robin Hobb, Roger Zelazny, Jane Routley, ...) but only a few series are deemed compelling enough to now and then revisit. I think that's indeed a great way to decide whether or not to keep a book in your collection, should the need to clean out arise---which it does: that's called lack of space.

A few years ago, I had this stupid productivity-focused shallow mindset of approaching books quantitatively: as one-time consumable media, since there are so many books and there's so little time in our lives. I'm now convinced I had it completely wrong. I made it my personal motto never to re-read a book: if I wanted to go back to something to refresh my memory or find specific information, I'd consult my notes instead, which in case of prose of course never happened. Instead, I think we should approach books qualitatively: if there's something that grabs you by the throat, or something on the shelf that lures you back in once in a while, why not let it? Who cares if we only get to read 5 "new" books this year? (Shut up you stupid inner voice!)

If something is worth revisiting, revisit it, I say. Mary Karr's definitely on to something here. To take the idea even further, I'd say this is also applicable other media, such as movies and video games. Or are you the kind of person who doesn't like re-watching movies because that's a few hours you could spent gnawing at the internals of a new release? As a retro gamer, I like playing older games, but that doesn't mean I only play games I played as a kid to get that much-needed nostalgic kick---nor does it mean I only play "new" (to me) old games. Indeed, some games (and possibly also books?) are meant to be revisited over and over again.

Yet every time I pick up a yellowed fantasy work from the shelf that's been patiently sitting there for almost twenty years now, that self-proclaimed exalted inner voice very nearly stifles the revisit attempt. There's something sinister deeper rooted in society that works against recycling your existing copies, something the inner voice loves shoving in my face:

• This way you'll never be able to tackle your to-read list!
• You've got to buy new stuff instead of rehashing old and dusty things, that's the way this world works!
• Boring! You already know all the plot twists! Why not try that latest release?
• Is this being productive? Will it count towards your amount of read books? Make sure the numbers keep on going up!
• The reviews say this is garbage, why don't you treat yourself by buying something new from the top charts?
• That old edition isn't the revised one! Will you at least get the revised one?
• ...

I sometimes hate the way this capitalist world is focused on quantitative data, spending, and the new and shiny, because inevitably, I've internalized many of these so-called great ideas.

Next time the inner voice starts complaining, I'll try to whack it out of my head using my The Art of Memoir copy. At least that's one way of reusing the book.