It seems like Marie Kondo is everywhere right now, doesn’t it?  I read her books – The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and Spark Joy – back in 2015 and 2016(?) and was kind of bemused.  (I have a very specific memory of reading Life-Changing Magic on vacation in the Outer Banks, sitting in a cane-backed chair looking out over Pamlico Sound while Nugget snoozed in my lap.)  Like most, I thought she had some good/interesting ideas, but most of the book was just never going to happen – at least not for me.  And now she has a Netflix show, which by all reports most people are finding delightful; I haven’t watched and probably won’t, since Steve has no interest in it and I’m such a sporadic TV viewer.

There’s a lot I find appealing about Marie Kondo’s methods.  The idea of carefully examining the things that we allow into our homes, and keeping only those things that add to our well-being, resonates with me.  For a long time, I have tried to live by the old adage, “keep nothing in your home that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.”  That’s not quite Konmari, but it’s not far off.

Have you seen those Marie-Kondo-and-books memes that are floating around the internet?  I posted one on Facebook – a picture of Marie Kondo, looking adorable and saying “Ideally, keep less than thirty books” followed by an image of stacked shelves with the caption “Ravenclaws everywhere: YOU MEAN PER SUBJECT, RIGHT?”  I just thought that was funny, because I identify as a Ravenclaw, but when I shared the meme, my dear friend and fellow book clubber Bridget commented: “But your books are so pretty and well organized, they definitely spark joy!  Marie Kondo would look around and say I can tell this is a happy, well-read home!”  To which I blushed.  Because I am proud of my bookshelves.  I think that my collection is well-curated and reflects my interests and the things that give me joy.  So I do think Marie Kondo would approve.

Whether measuring by the Konmari “does this spark joy?” method or asking “is this either useful, beautiful, or both?” I think my book collection meets the standard.  For several years now, I have been making an effort to pare it down.  I have limited shelf space in my urban townhouse – I think I can squeeze in one more bookshelf without things looking awkward, and I am actively lobbying for that – and I do want my books to be worthy of the space they take up.  Some time ago, a bookstagrammer that I follow mentioned that she had a rule: she would only keep books to which she had given three or more stars on Goodreads.  If she rated a book as being only okay, out it went.  She’d never re-read it, so why bother keeping it?

I loved that.  Inspired, I tornadoed through my book collection and culled a decent-sized stack of books that I knew I’d never read again.  Off they went to the library, the used bookstore, or other homes in the neighborhood via my Buy Nothing community.  What’s left:

• Books I have collected because I want to read them and/or expect to re-read them, and because they are beautiful (Slightly Foxed Editions, Persephone books, Folio Society books, and vintage novels with beautiful covers fall into this category).
• Books that are not conventionally beautiful, but that I keep because I cherish them for other reasons – mostly, this pertains to my childhood copies of L. M. Montgomery and Madeleine L’Engle, which are tattered and which I will never, ever throw out.
• Books that I don’t find beautiful and haven’t read or expect to re-read, but which I would like to read once.  These will probably get carted off to the used bookstore once I’ve finished them.  This category is mostly made up of women’s fiction that originated on my grandmama’s shelves, was read by my mom, and is now gathering dust waiting for me.  Once upon a time, I would have felt guilty for selling those, but – my mom and my grandmama have both given me other, more meaningful gifts.  I don’t need to keep The Friday Night Knitting Club to know that they love(d) me.

Clearly, I’m not going to Konmari my books – because I pretty much already have.  And I’m not going to stop adding to my book collection either.  But these days I am exclusively buying books that I think are both beautiful and useful – and that’s how I’ve adjusted my book collecting for the age of Konmari.  I do not bring a book into my home, these days, unless I both want to read it and like to look at it.  I spend more money to have a beautiful edition of a book, and I am fine with that because I am buying fewer books.  I’d rather spend my money on a Slightly Foxed Edition that I am going to enjoy reading and also feel giddy about holding in my hands and seeing on my shelf, than spend the same amount on blah paperbacks that take up space and don’t make me happy.  (I do buy paperbacks, but I still want them to be pretty.  British Library Crime Classics, with their vintage train journey inspired covers: yes.  Movie tie-in editions of anything: barf, no.)

The thing is, I’ve shifted my thinking on book collecting.  I never bought indiscriminately – even when I was stocking my first home library with babysitting money.  (Even then, I still bought classics.  But they were usually fake leather omnibus editions because ALL OF JANE AUSTEN FOR TEN DOLLARS, GIMME.)  Now, I am playing a long game: I am slowly and carefully curating a library that I expect to keep for my whole life and, someday, to pass along to my daughter.  I want books that are sturdy enough to withstand multiple readings and that give me pleasure just by existing.  Can I say it?  I am curating a home library that sparks joy.

Do you Konmari your books?