The Happiest Hour – 4/11/20

It’s been said before, but I’ll say it again: frozen margaritas make everything better.

Here’s what you missed this week:

  • Are all you cool cats and kittens feeling aimless after bingeing Tiger King? These reads are better than the meat that falls off the Walmart truck. (NYT)
  • You could use some of this free time people keep saying we have (if you see mine, please send it back home) to catch up on the classics. Or you could check out these drawings and get back to your puzzles. (LitHub)
  • What does The Drinking Club love more than a good happy hour? Judging people, especially about their books. (The Guardian)
  • The minute this is over, we’re treating ourselves to one of these. (BookRiot)

 

Cheers,

EV

The Happiest Hour – 3/13/20

Can we be honest with each other?

Right now, this doesn’t feel like the happiest hour. With every news alert and email from that yoga studio you went to once saying they’re cancelling classes, it feels like we’re sitting inside a countdown clock, waiting for it to hit zero. Last week, The Drinking Club was conversing about embarrassing bodily functions while demolishing several bottles of red. Today, my relative calm was eaten away as I scrolled through my news app while working from home. The isolation stoked whatever anxiety I had–until I went out to the grocery store for WFH supplies. The sun was shining, the air was warm. There was a bird chirping somewhere (it was probably lost).

This is to say: we all need to take a breath. We need to be smart and cautious, and we need to take care of ourselves and our communities. I’m toasting tonight to all of us getting through these next weeks and doing what we need to stay healthy and calm. In these challenging times, remember: there’s nothing a good book can’t fix.

There’s also not enough wine to make you forget the sight of your coworker in his pajamas on the conference call.

Here’s what you missed this week:

 

Cheers,

EV

But First, The Club Takes a Shelfie

Jane Austen wrote in Pride & Prejudice, “I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.” Truer words, friends. Up until recently, my books, and MV’s, were scattered across our apartment. They were on a single IKEA bookcase, tucked into unreachable corners of the living room, and shoved under nightstands in stacks that threatened to topple the furniture. And then, a miracle appeared in the form of another matching IKEA bookcase, magically transported and installed to mirror the existing piece (and by magic, I mean our Dad trucked it in from dirty Jerz and mounted it to the wall. He’s the best.).

The shelves are not organized by the Dewey Decimal System, or any system for that matter. They’re shelved in the order they were pulled from the moving boxes and the piles on the floor. The only design element is a small stack of paperbacks in the middle of a top shelf, which is also home to a framed picture (because I ran out of shelf space for that too).

Nothing quite illustrates the lengths we go to create any kind of space for our libraries like Sloane Crosley’s Virtues of Shelf-lessness, her recent NYT essay on her chosen method of storage: the moldings that frame the ceilings of her apartment. Last month’s author has created what she calls a “sentimental library” along the moldings, a system that catalogs titles based not only on the feeling they evoked upon the first reading, but also the location within the apartment that best matches it. For example: books that inspire are housed near the desk, while books that entertain and relax live above the couch (my question: what goes in the bathroom?).

However, most of us don’t have those desirable pre-war fixtures in our hobbit holes. So here, we share with you: our shelfies, in all their organized, chaotic, postmodern glory (you’ll understand at the end).

 

MV

IMG-8501

 

Like all things in my life, my bookshelf is organized chaos. I keep the books I’m reading and books I want to read next on my nightstand shelves. Once I’ve read a book, I move it to the living room bookshelves. There are a variety of genres on my bookshelf, and there is only one method of organization- squeeze all the books in until they fit.

 

DD

IMG_5139

Right after college I moved home with my parents, and there my books were mostly organized by when I read them (similar to what Sloane Crosley says in her article) but when I packed up my books to move into the city in 2015, I wanted them to look neater so I organized by color in my first apartment and it stuck! Right now color is the only organizing principle, but I keep a small stack of books that I’m currently reading or need to read in my room and off the shelves (these books shelves are in our common living room area.) Plus library books go on living room ottoman, and stacks of to-be-read New Yorkers are on the chairs near the book shelves, ha!! 

 

AM

ambcb

AM calls this work of art “No Frills, Just Adventures.” The cataloging method: “[a] loose width order, only because my OCD will not allow for a larger book to be above a smaller one.”

 

MM

IMG_1190

If there were ever a manifestation of my commitment issues, this would be it. Here is my beautiful, hypothetical shelfie. I shit you not, the tape has been there for 2 months and will stay there as I debate the placement of the shelves for another 6. 

IMG_1497.jpg

[The books] live under my nightstand and in a cube thing in the hall. The cube is hard to photograph, so here is my nightstand. Big dreams to one day pull the damn trigger on my fear of permanence by way of drilling holes into my wall so that my books have a place to live.

I’ll give you one guess who among us is a professional photographer.

 

Sloane ends her essay by reflecting on her desire to inflict order on her “shelves.” Maybe she should organize her books alphabetically, or chronologically. Or maybe, she realizes, she already has everything she needs. I tend to agree with her. A lived-in “shelf” is far more personal than a curated, Instagrammable collection meant to impress a critic. Author Tahereh Mafi has said “I love walking into a bookstore. It’s like all my friends are sitting on shelves, waving their pages at me.” I’d to imagine that our books are friends, cozying up to each other to make room for that one book you just had to get from the $1 bin and shove onto the shelf. Because what are books, if not our most loyal companions?

Well, wine is up there too. But books are definitely in the top five. We’re not totally depraved.

 

–E