In der NYTimes finden sich bekanntermaßen immer wieder literarische Perlen. Dieses mal hat die Perle sogar selbst Literatur zum Gegenstand. Es geht um ein Thema, das immer wieder die Gemüter, einschließlich meinem, erregt: Welche Behandlung ist einem Buch angemessen?

Mittlerweile plädiere ich hier gegen zu viel Respekt, und zwar sowohl der äußeren Hülle als auch dem Inhalt gegenüber. Auch deshalb zitiere ich hier die Einleitung des Essays, und lege mich jetzt mit Siddartha in die Badewanne…

I have to admit I was flattered when, returning to my hotel room on the shores of Lake Como, a beautiful Italian chambermaid took my hand. I knew that the hotel was noted for the attentiveness of its staff. Surely, though, such boldness elevated room service to a new level. Escorting me to the edge of the crisply made bed, the chambermaid pointed to a book on my bedside table. „Does this belong to you?“ she asked. I looked down to see a dog-eared copy of Evelyn Waugh’s „Vile Bodies“ open spread-eagle, its cracked spine facing out. „Yes,“ I replied. „Sir, that is no way to treat a book!“ she declared, stalking out of the room.

I appreciate the chambermaid’s point of view — and I admire how she expressed it. Yet I profoundly disagree. While the ideas expressed in even the vilest of books are worthy of protection, I find it difficult to respect books as objects, and see no harm whatsoever in abusing them.
Confessions of a Book Abuser — New York Times