In praise of the humble hostel library

Books , Journalism , Opinion , Travel Sep 11, 2015 No Comments

When I departed Australia for Spain last year, I had my Kindle packed and ready. My reading had been planned in advance: Booker winners and Russian classics and theses on the nature of democracy—a library’s worth of books at my fingertips, to be worked through methodically over eight or nine months.

The Kindle was a welcome addition to my carry-on. A few years earlier, Hemingway’s collected works had taken up the space of a brick in my duffel bag. Two years later, Vladimir Sorokin and Orhan Pamuk took his place, wrapped carefully in shirts and scarves, literary guides to the year’s destinations. The Kindle freed up space for socks and underwear while also—more importantly for someone as anally retentive about his books as me—meant my hard-copy volumes wouldn’t get banged about as we schlepped around from place to place.
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In the end, I read hardly anything on it. It wasn’t that my selection proved poor. It wasn’t that I didn’t put aside time for reading. Rather it was the fact that, as the months rolled by, it became more exciting, more unpredictable and rewarding, to see what volumes would fall into my lap from the shelves of the places we happened to find ourselves.

Read the full article at The Drum.

Matthew Clayfield

Matthew Clayfield is a journalist, critic and screenwriter.

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