From the disheveled desk of Nathan Bak

P. G. Wodehouse has long been an appreciated author in my home and in particular his Jeeves and Wooster books (and also the television series based on those characters and their adventures). The various Wooster-ish hi-jinks are always amusing and the superhero Jeeves savings the day is always satisfying.

Some years ago, I started purchasing early editions of Jeeves and Wooster books as presents for my Wife. I originally tried first editions, but found those, for the most part, to be prohibitively expansive and difficult to obtain (although I have found a couple including a first edition of the Italian translation of The Inimitable Jeeves). So we now have a mismatched but memorable collection.

Most recently, for our Silver Anniversary, I purchased a silver cow creamer (although it’s Modern Dutch which was hundreds of dollars cheaper than some silver cow creamers). I also purchased a first edition (but probably not first printing) of Jeeves in the Offing. And since I knew my Wife and I would both want to read it while lounging in bed or eating snacks, I also purchased a cheap, used paperback of Jeeves in the Offing.

As I find myself reading more ebooks, I sometimes am annoyed when reading a “real” book and realize that I can’t just tap a word I don’t know to get a definition or when I accidentally crease a page. Also, in a house already full of full bookshelves, digital storage of hundreds of books is certainly space-efficient. But still, I enjoy the tangible aspects of flipping through the pages of a book and somehow find the pace more relaxing. In addition, I quite enjoy the smell of new books and also the smell of old books.

And when the tangible book is associated with a memory of a person or experience or event, that makes the book extra special. Each of the “old” books in our Jeeves and Wooster collection was carefully researched online and thoughtfully purchased. Each book also contains quotes that are now verbalized in public while being shared as a private joke. While the words in each book may be available in a variety of formats, the books themselves now represent something more.

Do books matter? Yes! At least some do. Our Jeeves and Wooster books matter. I may thoroughly enjoy zipping through a dozen ebooks purchased as a bundle and appreciate the stories and literary value and other aspects, but don’t think I’ll become as connected as I do to actual books. And if I ever do feel *that* strongly about an ebook, I’d almost certainly purchase a physical copy–a first edition if I could afford it.

I think Upton Sinclair’s novel is one of the most misunderstood novels. Published in novel form in 1906, it was intended to be a sort of communist manifesto to inspire the working man to band together. Instead, it inspired significant changes in the US meat processing/packing industry. This post is not about The Jungle.

Half a century later, in 1957, Ayn Rand’s novel Atlas Shrugged was published. From a literary perspective, beyond the obvious moral commentary, the writing contains elements of adventure, mystery, romance, and science fiction which makes it tricky to be placed in a bucket with similar. But the underlying message is generally understood.

To say that Atlas Shrugged is a thinly veiled promotion of capitalism, liberalism, and similar “isms” is being generous in suggesting any sort of subtlety, but that’s not to say that is not an enjoyable read. Like many pieces of literature, Atlas Shrugged can be read in multiple ways, but I think most people read it in one of two ways. First, it can be read as a tract proselytizing the various philosophies, ideals, etc. being exemplified in the text. Alternatively, the reader can skim over the lengthy monologues by the various characters and instead just focus on the engaging narrative. The choice is up to the reader and there isn’t necessarily a “right” way.

As a note of personal history, the specific two-volume set published by Easton Press shown above was acquired as an anniversary present. Similar volumes spotted in a locked cabinet at https://www.powells.com for an exorbitant amount in mid September, it took a few months of online searching (and a failed attempt when received in a less-appealing burgundy binding) to obtain the tomes at a reasonable price.

In my mind, I always compare The Jungle and Atlas Shrugged because there are so many ways they are similar and different. For example, both were trying to promote certain ideologies (albeit very different ones). Both are reasonably well-written and engaging stories. Also, for a long time, paperback copies of both were on the same shelf in my office. But this post is not about The Jungle . . .

Like many children, I was exposed to Alice and Wonderland and many other fantastical creations of Louis Carroll via book and screen. I found the stories palatable but not among my favorites. It was not until I was a bit older that I began to better appreciate the cleverness behind much of the writing

During my junior year of high school I encountered Gödel, Escher, Bach: an Eternal Golden Braid by Douglas R. Hofstadter. The book interweaves math, art, and music in a study of cognition and, to my delight, alternating chapters were written in a Louis Carroll-ish style using curious creatures engaging in odd activities and conversation to depict various theory. Gödel, Escher, Bach influenced me in a variety of ways, but germane to this post was it made me reevaluate actual Louis Carroll texts.

The next year I wrote my Senior Paper about the logic in the writings of Lewis Carroll. I learned that “Lewis Carroll” was actually a pen name for logician and mathematician Charles Lutwidge Dodgson. Within his various “children’s” stories are representations of and allusions to many different logical concepts and I excitedly delved into different occurrences. The story didn’t matter as much as the concepts behind the story.

Years after that, while studying literature as both an undergrad and graduate student, I revisited some Lewis Carroll texts. This time I was focused on his word usage and structures. Sometimes in invented new words. Sometimes he deliberately misused words. Sometimes he embedded different poetic structures into texts. I generally refrain from diving too deeply into this sort of realm, but nevertheless found that just beneath the layer of silliness was a significant depth.

Originally I thought Lewis Carroll to be a writer for children. Later I thought Charles Dodgson to be representing math and logic. After that I found him to be careful crafter of clever and cryptic composition. Sometimes I wonder if I infer more that was intended by by the author, but perhaps that doesn’t really matter. In the words of Lewis/Charles: “Words mean more than we mean to express when we use them: so a whole book ought to mean a great deal more than the writer meant.”