Tsundoku: Or Why There Are Never Enough Books
It’s that time of year again. Christmas is looming. And my family have been asking what I want from Santa. Surprise, surprise, I’ve come up with a list of books. It’s a short list. But it’s all books. Apart from a new coffee gadget to keep me sharp while I read them.
I’ve already got piles of books waiting to be read on my bedside table. On the floor. And in a few other places. Luckily, the Japanese have a word for this: "tsundoku". It means all those books you’ve bought, and keep buying, which are piling up unread. Brilliant! It’s great how some languages have words for things that don’t feature in English. We might understand the concept. But can only express it by way of a phrase or a sentence. In one simple word, the Japanese have captured the flavour of something loaded with meaning.
The word originated in late 19th century Japan. It’s a combination of two words, "tsun”, meaning "to pile up" and "doku" meaning "reading". Combine the two and you get the definition of buying books and piling them up.
Stories make us human
But why books? Because it reflects my curiosity about the world around me. What makes people tick. And why things are the way things are.
I’ve always enjoyed reading widely. And I like to have two or three books on the go at the same time. This means I can switch between fiction and non-fiction. Serious and light-hearted. Or add a bit of the poetry to the mix as the mood inspires me. And, as the Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges said, “I cannot sleep unless I am surrounded by books.”
It’s evident that people develop a variety of tsundoku coping strategies. Some stack them by theme. Others pile them up without any visible method. Some go through them at regular intervals to marvel at the wisdom and pleasure they surely contain. And make a conscious decision to start on the one book that grabs their attention. Others simply pick a book at random.
The piles can be a source of stress. Or inspire a sense of guilt. But they can also offer a sense of anticipation. Of unexplored ideas waiting to be discovered. That remind us that, for all we think we know, there’s a whole bunch of stuff out there that we don’t know.
All of this reminds me of one of my children’s favourite books, The Incredible Book Eating Boy by Oliver Jeffers. It’s a wonderful story about a boy called Henry who loves books. His pleasure, however, isn't derived from reading them but from eating them. He gulps down all sorts of books, from storybooks to dictionaries to joke books. Though red books were his favourite. And here’s the good bit. He discovers that the more he eats, the smarter he gets.
But things start to go wrong. He wasn’t digesting facts properly and was getting everything jumbled up. So Henry’s doctor told him to stop. And he started reading books instead. This was fun. And opened up a new world for him. It also meant that he could catch up on his broccoli.
The book is packed with eye-catching illustrations. Many of which are over-printed on various types of reclaimed paper, which adds an extra depth to the story.
Reading should be an everyday part of our lives
The whimsical humour of the story provides a platform for a reflection on the importance of learning, the power of knowledge and the pleasure we derive from reading.
We lose ourselves in books. We find ourselves as well. Reading a good book empowers us, improves our capacity for empathy and connects us to the wider world. As John Steinbeck said, “I guess there are never enough books”.