The bibliophile’s sin

Books have been at the centre of my life since I was ten and recognised the library as my temple, but it was only as an adult that I realised that my bibliotheca had become a well-curated dichotomy between what I buy and what I read—Japanese call it tsundoku.


More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com

A glimpse

I brought home a used copy of T.S. Eliot’s collected works and cried
like Peter Kien on his wedding night—there was something tragic
about the torn and stained dust jacket and the dirty edges, as if Faber
and Faber had printed a hewer’s handbook—only to catch a glimpse
of a snob in the mirror.