‘Tsundoku’ is a Japanese word that describes the accumulation of a pile of unread books. It is a hybrid word from ‘dokusho’ (reading books) and ‘tsunde-oku’ (pile of things). It also brings to mind a ‘tsunami’ which tends to give readers like me nightmares similar to a popular cartoon depicting a person who has met their demise under a pile of unread books that has fallen on them during the night!
If you have mastered the art of tsundoku, then you may be interested in whether there is harm to be had or good to be gained from the practice – and if there is a reasonable solution!
Tsundoku: the case for
Creative mind = genius
In a former marketing role, I once worked with a lovely senior manager whose desk was so cluttered that some of us on his team used to make it a mission to tidy up while he was on holidays. But, before one such cleaning bee, I was in a meeting with him when he took a phone call from a client. While he was chatting, he needed a crucial fact to assure the caller of his knowledge of their project. He reached out to the piles of papers on his desk and put his hands immediately on the file he needed to seal the deal. Perhaps we should have left his desk alone after all!
Some researchers have suggested that clutter is the sign of a creative mind – or even genius – citing Steve Jobs and Albert Einstein as possessors of messy desks. So, a pile of books could be taken as a sign that you are simply too creative, productive, innovative and smart to waste precious time cleaning up!
That stockpile is good for you
The aroma of books can be comforting. Also, the visual created by the well-designed spines can be a part of your home decorating aesthetic. (Some celebrity influencers even go so far as to suggest colour coding.) Some research says that the books provide evidence of unattained knowledge, which can inspire us to read more. Also, admitting that we need to continue reading and learning has been called ‘intellectual humility’ which – like empathy and creativity – is an underrated trait that could become more important in our increasingly distant, digital world.
Evidence of life well lived
To me, there’s something even more poetic than all the research. I think that, even if you haven’t read them, books can act as time capsules. Their cover illustrations, titles and authors can remind you of times and places in your life when you bought the titles, the people who recommended them, the bookshops you found them in, the open book university exams you fudged without having actually completed them, or friends and family who have gifted books to you.
Finally, satisfaction
Little Wilson and Big God: Being the First Part of the Confessions of Anthony Burgess had been sitting lost in my bedside reading pile for more than five years. An article about A Clockwork Orange and the making of the film adaptation reignited my interest in Burgess. I fished out that first volume of his autobiography and finally started reading. On completing that long-lost book, the feeling of satisfaction was immense. So, now that I’ve confessed, my next project is to try Thomas Pynchon’s V, which was recommended by a friend many years ago, and has been staring out at me from the overcrowded bookshelf for more than 20 years!
Tsundoku: the case against
From what I’ve read, the case against tsundoku really only amounts to the lack of space caused by your pile (or piles) of unread books. Yes, there is also the increased clutter, especially if you grew up in a certain era – some of us have a dual dilemma of having to find space for audiovisual items too: those long-lost acronym collections of LPs, CDs, VHS, and DVDs. When space is at a premium, online streaming services and libraries suddenly seem very attractive. Personally, I have never been satisfied with borrowing books from libraries. There is some comfort in knowing that I can put my hands on an unread novel when needed, even if I have to sift through several shelves and dust-covered boxes to find it, rather than being forced to venture out and wait for a librarian to retrieve the usually obscure and underappreciated item from the stacks. And don’t suggest an electronic reading tablet because, to me, rather than relaxation, online reading just feels like more work when I have spent all day in front of the screen writing, editing or proofreading. Which brings me to…
Tackling your tsundoku
If your tsundoku is causing you stress, then you need solutions. As painful as it may seem at first, if you take it one book at a time, you may make slow progress and feel better about reducing your reading pile. Based on my experience, spring cleaning is the best time to tackle your tsundoku – while avoiding all bookshops and recommended reading lists!
Consider these simple steps:
- Source attractive storage boxes.
- Investigate local pick-up services that might help you transport of your (eventual) boxed books.
- Put on a good musical playlist, podcast or audio book to make the most of your ‘cleaning’ time.
- Remove all books from your bedside table and decant into the relevant storage boxes.
- Face your bookshelf, and congratulate yourself on your excellent choices of reading material and the breadth of subjects you are interested in.
- Put books you have read and think you won’t re-read in one box. Consider selling these to your favourite local secondhand bookshop or donating to a charity shop or free neighbourhood library.
- Place all the books you have read but want to retain in another box.
- Restock your bookshelf with the books that are left – the ones you have not read.
- Next time you feel the urge to buy a new book, it will be easier to ‘shop from home’ first.
- To whittle down that ‘retain’ box, consider replacing some of your classics with e-books – for example, Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights.
- Think about replacing biographies and autobiographies with audio books – Roger Daltrey’s Thanks a Lot Mr Kibblewhite is a good example where spoken words trump written text.
If all else fails, explore speed reading courses, take time off work, and finally commit to that pile of books!
