While I was out for a walk yesterday I passed a house with books on the windowsill of what what probably the living room of the house. Not so surprising, perhaps, but the thing that did grab me was the way the books were displayed - with their spines facing to the street. I mean, that could cause a few problems, couldn't it? When you want to pick a book to read you have to go out into the front yard to make your selection.
Of course, promoting the fact that you actually read isn't a bad thing - though it does disappoint me that such a thing needs to be explicitly stated by putting your books in the window. I'll admit to using window space for storage in the past but only when absolutely necessary - condensation and paper are two things that don't go well together. Mostly, though, I like to keep my books out of sight of the world at large. Step into the house, though, and you're assaulted by them. They're scattered everywhere, not just on the five bookcases downstairs and the two upstairs, but on the piano, dining table, desk and - yes, unfortunately - the floor on occasion. I suppose the difference is that I only 'flaunt' my literacy when I know you well enough to drag you into my house. (I'm sure that sounds wrong...)
Alas, I didn't dare go close enough to find out precisely which titles were facing outwards on that windowsill. It wasn't the kind of area where I should be caught looking through windows; I can't run fast enough to get away. But from where I stood they looked like thick wads of fiction. That adds another dimension to it, doesn't it? Not only is this person advertising the fact that they read, they're explicitly saying that they read thick books - so there!
Of course, it could all be a ruse. The books could be there to give the illusion that the householder reads and the reason the spines all face outwards is because they never have cause to pick up a title. I think that's the most disappointing thought I've had all week.