I recognize that’s appears a pretty sad statement.
Nevertheless, I stand by what an adolescent Ben and a number of his “real” friends claimed as truth even as they sought connection with each other peeking over the pages of their favorite novels and stories.
The reason I bring up this idea is to, once again, remind any readers present of the importance of deciding how we will read.
When I say “books are my friends”, I’m of course primarily pointing out the relationship I have to their authors as well as the texts from which I receive those author’s exegesis, expertise, and experience. Having written books myself I’m well aware of the psychic, temporal, and, certainly, literary distance between what one has written and the person one is. That’s why it is important as ever to remember that the work someone produces and the someone themselves are both distinct and magically intertwined in a fashion I’ll neglect to unravel for the sake of protecting the last vestiges of enchantment in our world. That being said,
Books are my friends, and I hospitably invite any to find space in my home.
Read widely and dangerously. Read as a precocious and curious child, indiscriminately (if not unaware) of authorial intent. Read with a generous embrace that only discerns a friend's place in your life after spending adequate time together.
If a book or author begins to grate on your conscience or find its way out of your rotation or thought patterns, send it on its way. There's nothing wrong with keeping books and nothing wrong with giving them away.
Books are my friends, and I periodically check in on their wellbeing.
On the note of a rotation, return to your books as you would call up a friend to talk. See where their (and your own) thinking has developed. Be inspired by deeper conversation in the text or margins. See with fresh eyes that companion that journeyed with you through an earlier day.
Books are my friends, and it's important to know their friends.
No book was written in isolation. The first book was drawing on a tradition of stories which drew on a tradition of language and shared space in this world. Nothing lives alone. Your books shouldn't either.
The references, acknowledgements, and shared influences between books create a kind of conversation, a network that gives each book context and company.
Ultimately, you should live in harmony with your library, cyclically return to it, and open its doors to the far-flung parts of the literary world waiting in the wings to become your friend, confidant, and (I exaggerate very little here) salvation.