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In my view, nineteen pounds of old books are at least nineteen times as delicious as one pound of fresh caviar.
Anne Fadiman Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader
by Anne Fadiman
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In "Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader," Anne Fadiman expresses her deep affection for books through a vivid comparison. She suggests that the joy and value she finds in nineteen pounds of old books far surpasses the luxury of one pound of fresh caviar, emphasizing her belief that the experience of reading is more satisfying than material indulgences. This quote illustrates her passion for literature and the rich, fulfilling experiences that come from engaging with the written word.

Fadiman's reflection on books highlights how they nourish the mind and spirit, aligning her preferences with those who cherish the tactile and sentimental qualities of reading. To her, the history and personality imbued in old books create an irreplaceable treasure, making them far more appealing than extravagant delicacies. This perspective encourages readers to appreciate the depth and significance of literature in their lives.

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Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader
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Other quotes in Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader

...in the midst of the tumult, part ecstasy and part panic, into which all first-time mothers are thrown by sleep deprivation and headlong identity realignment.
Anne Fadiman Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader
...in the midst of the tumult, part ecstasy and part panic, into which all first-time mothers are thrown by sleep deprivation and headlong identity realignment.
-the men were found to have left behind their guns but to have lugged such essentials as monogrammed silver cutlery, a backgammon board, a cigar case, a clothes brush, a tin of buttons polish, and a copy of 'The Vicar of Wakefield.' These men may have been incompetent bunglers, but, by God, they were gentlemen.
Anne Fadiman Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader
-the men were found to have left behind their guns but to have lugged such essentials as monogrammed silver cutlery, a backgammon board, a cigar case, a clothes brush, a tin of buttons polish, and a copy of 'The Vicar of Wakefield.' These men may have been incompetent bunglers, but, by God, they were gentlemen.
My interest is a lonely one. I cannot trot it out at cocktail parties. I feel sometimes as if I have spent a large part of my life learning a dead language that no one I know can speak.
Anne Fadiman Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader
My interest is a lonely one. I cannot trot it out at cocktail parties. I feel sometimes as if I have spent a large part of my life learning a dead language that no one I know can speak.
One night when I was pregnant with Henry, I lay in bed thinking for some reason, about Treasure Island. I realized that from the entire book there was only one sentence I remembered verbatim, something that Ben Gunn, who has been marooned for three years, says to Jim Hawkins: Many's the long night I've dreamed of cheese -- toasted mostly. I repeated the last two words over and over again, like a mantra. Toasted, mostly. Toasted mostly.
Anne Fadiman Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader
One night when I was pregnant with Henry, I lay in bed thinking for some reason, about Treasure Island. I realized that from the entire book there was only one sentence I remembered verbatim, something that Ben Gunn, who has been marooned for three years, says to Jim Hawkins: Many's the long night I've dreamed of cheese -- toasted mostly. I repeated the last two words over and over again, like a mantra. Toasted, mostly. Toasted mostly.
The chambermaid believed in courtly love. A book's physical self was sacrosanct to her, its form inseparable from its content; her duty as a lover was Platonic adoration, a noble but doomed attempt to conserve forever the state of perfect chastity in which it had left the bookseller.
Anne Fadiman Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader
The chambermaid believed in courtly love. A book's physical self was sacrosanct to her, its form inseparable from its content; her duty as a lover was Platonic adoration, a noble but doomed attempt to conserve forever the state of perfect chastity in which it had left the bookseller.
But like balloons, they were excessively buoyant, and if you weren't careful, they floated away.
Anne Fadiman Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader
But like balloons, they were excessively buoyant, and if you weren't careful, they floated away.
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When a book leaves its author's desk it changes. Even before anyone has read it, before eyes other than its creator's have looked upon a single phrase, it is irretrievably altered. It has become , that no longer belongs to its maker. It has acquired, in a sense, free will. It will make its journey through the world and there is no longer anything the author can do about it. Even he, as he looks at its sentences, reads them differently now that they can be read by others. They look like different sentences. The book has gone out into the world and the world has remade it.
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When a book leaves its author's desk it changes. Even before anyone has read it, before eyes other than its creator's have looked upon a single phrase, it is irretrievably altered. It has become , that no longer belongs to its maker. It has acquired, in a sense, free will. It will make its journey through the world and there is no longer anything the author can do about it. Even he, as he looks at its sentences, reads them differently now that they can be read by others. They look like different sentences. The book has gone out into the world and the world has remade it.
The chambermaid believed in courtly love. A book's physical self was sacrosanct to her, its form inseparable from its content; her duty as a lover was Platonic adoration, a noble but doomed attempt to conserve forever the state of perfect chastity in which it had left the bookseller.
Anne Fadiman Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader
The chambermaid believed in courtly love. A book's physical self was sacrosanct to her, its form inseparable from its content; her duty as a lover was Platonic adoration, a noble but doomed attempt to conserve forever the state of perfect chastity in which it had left the bookseller.
George, if you ever break the spine of one of my books, I want you to know that you might as well be breaking my own spine.
Anne Fadiman Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader
George, if you ever break the spine of one of my books, I want you to know that you might as well be breaking my own spine.
In my view, nineteen pounds of old books are at least nineteen times as delicious as one pound of fresh caviar.
Anne Fadiman Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader
In my view, nineteen pounds of old books are at least nineteen times as delicious as one pound of fresh caviar.
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