Hi all,
I've been spending the last couple of days paring down my bookshelves, trying to make some space in this two-bedroom apartment. So far, I've filled up five large boxes with books to give away. My heart is breaking.
I love books. Too damn much, it seems. I'm an inveterate yet unrepentant bibliophile. I'm one sick puppy. 
Now, let me turn this into another "desert island" thread. I've searched through the forum but couldn't find a thread about our "absolute must" lists of desert island books. I'm sure there's probably one buried in the forum archives somewhere but no matter; tastes change with time, anyway.
Several years ago, when I left everything behind, here in Montreal, to go live in British-Columbia, I had only my (admittedly full and heavy) backpack with me. The pack contained, amongst other things, close to twenty books I couldn't live without. I have no idea what possessed me to believe that these books couldn't be found in a large city such as Vancouver or even Victoria but, there it is. I guess I didn't want to take the chance. But that's neither here nor there.
This time around, as I reorganize my bookshelves, I'm pulling out a dozen books that would absolutely, categorically have to follow me (no doubt in a watertight, sealed wooden crate) to my shipwreck home. Here are the books, with a short explanation or reason given for their inclusion on the list.
1. The Norton Shakespeare, Based on the Oxford Edition
This mammoth tome (hardcover, three inches thick, 3,420 rice-paper thin pages) is one of the most expensive books I own. But that's not why I'd bring it with me. I'd drag it along with me because, finally, finally! I'd have time to read the complete works of Shakespeare. Maybe even twice.
There's so much in the Bard's writing that speaks to what is most human in us all--for better or for worse--that I couldn't pass up the necessity of being reminded, while alone on a desert isle, that this, a human being, is what I am.2. The Concise Oxford English Dictionary
3. Le Nouveau Dictionnaire de Français Larousse
These two books (again, massive hardcover tomes
) I would bring for several reasons, not the least of which is that they would serve as silent interlocutors, as mute but erudite partners, in conversations I would have with myself. It's very pleasant to--like the French 19th century poet Beaudelaire--"know the language of flowers and of silent things," but there's no way that would be enough for me. I'm a creature of the "word"; I sometimes feel like my whole being is structured around language and thought. I'd go mad if I couldn't talk to my dictionaries. Another reason to bring those two books along: to look up words while I'm writing, duh! 
I've got it all figured out: like a Tibetan Buddhist monk who spends days on end creating an intricate mandala in the sand only to completely erase it once it's done, I'd write in the sand on the beach with a sturdy twig and watch the tides carry my thoughts out to sea every day with no regrets. I'd just want to make sure that I'm spelling words correctly and that I'm using them well. 
4. The Iliad by Homer
5. The Odyssey by Homer
In both cases, the Robert Fagles translations. I'd bring these just to remind me of my own heritage as someone of European descent. The Iliad is the most powerful and moving tragedy I know. I would pore over the story of Achilles over and over again simply in order to be reminded that a great downfall follows from a great anger. Although the opportunities for hubris are somewhat limited on a desert island, being stranded and alone can lead someone to greatly exaggerate her own importance in the scheme of things. I wouldn't want that. The Odyssey I'd read for the simple pleasure of following wise Ulysses in his travels and adventures while allowing myself to fantasize what it would feel like to wave the sorceress Circe goodbye.
6. The Chronicles of Narnia
For obvious reasons. Not that I'd go about my island hunting for a wardrobe, mind you. My own mind ought to be wardrobe enough.
7. The Harper Collins NRSV Study Bible
Another massive hardcover tome. No, I'm not a Christian (nor am I Jewish) but this book contains so many different texts--from myths and love poems to ethical diatribes and metaphysical homilies--that I would surely, somewhere within its pages, find some solace and comfort in the face of my unenviable plight. I suspect the Book of Job would have its pages well and truly dog-eared. Also, the Bible is another one of those cultural pillars propping up the civilization I'd have left behind. I'd want to be reminded of that world, however much I may have a spiritual disagreement with some of the Bible's contents.
8. The Hackett Complete Works of Plato
What is it with this fetish I seem to have for huge hardcover books?
The writings of Plato and the teachings of Socrates spread across 1,808 pages? I'm in. I'd bring this one along just to help me remember how to think clearly. If, while gazing at a sunset--when the wide ocean wants to swallow the lonely ball of the sun--I feel an episode of self-pity coming on, I'd turn to the master and see what ol' Socrates has to say about courage and virtue and moral strength.9. The Harvard Classics Edition of the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius and the Manual of Epictetus
In my circumstances, I'd no doubt need to re-learn the meaning of equanimity and steadfastness in the face of adversity. So, I'm stuck on a desert island? Is there anything I can do about this at the moment? No? Then what use is there in whining? I'd put my energies to better use by going hunting for coconuts and a spot in the shade.
10. World Poetry: An Anthology of Verse from Antiquity to Our Time
Another tome. From ancient Akkadian and Sumerian poems "penned" anonymously to Armand Schwerner's "Tablet XXVI," this 1,338-page volume would allow me to hear just how rich and beautiful the human voice and the human heart can be. The very last line of the very last poem in the book: "...he will surely never die. / The world is made of his voice." Yes, indeed. Just like my own world, on a desert isle, would be made of my voice.
11. The Body Electric: America's Best Poetry from The American Poetry Review
Sorry, but this is another 820+ pages hardcover. I'd bring it with me for pretty much the same reasons as the one above it in the list; just to hear other human beings talk and sing to me. Also, in a world that now consisted of palm fronds, pebbles, insects, and grass, I'd want to be reminded of the kind of place I left behind. Such a place can be found within the pages of this anthology of resolutely modern and postmodern verse.
12. Bertrand Russell's History of Western Philosophy
This one's easy. I'd have it with me and I'd read it over an over, just to be reminded that there's more than one way to tell the human tale. There's the tale of beauty and of art. There's the tale of the spirit and of the soul. And then there's the tale of the mind. Russell does it some justice in this book and obviously takes great pleasure in the telling of it.
Well, there you have it. My own personal Canon of desert island vade mecums. Now, back to the task at hand. Let's see if I can donate another three boxes, at least.
Love,
CJ
I actually always try to have one laying around somehwere in the, uh, bathroom. 
