Throwing Books Away

If there is something I just cannot do, that is throwing any of my books away. I respect the work of the author too much, I appreciate what they are trying to achieve.

In a fiction novel the author creates entertainment, and feelings, complete new worlds even, so the reader may forget their everyday life (everyone can do with a little escape from reality once in a while), and hopefully close the book feeling happier for reading it.

In non-fiction book the sheer amount of work the author has put into their book should make everyone appreciate their book. Creating such a book can take years of research, revision and writing.

Only once in my life have I literally thrown away a book. I got boxes of old books from people who were going to throw them away, so more often than not, I came to the rescue. This little book probably came in such a box, from an old lady. It was written by a religious extremist in the beginning of the 20th century, and was so full of hate against… well, everyone who wasn’t of the same religious view as the writer, really. I read a few pages, promptly opened the front door and walked to the garbage bin to throw it away. Now I don’t mind anyone explaining their world view, but I do appreciate the decency of listening and respecting the world view of others as well. That is called civilized behavior. And this book showed utter disrespect towards anyone who  did not share the world view of the author.

Good riddance, I say.

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