The New York Times is reporting that Borders, the second largest bookstore chain in the country, is being shopped around. Who might want to buy Borders? Why, Barnes & Noble, of course–the largest bookstore chain in the country.

For more than a year, there has been speculation on Wall Street that Borders Group might be sold, possibly to its larger rival, Barnes & Noble.

A combination of Barnes & Noble and Borders, the No. 1 and No. 2 bookstore chains in the United States, respectively, would surely get the attention of antitrust regulators.

But the recent merger between Whole Foods Market and Wild Oats Markets, the two largest sellers of organic and natural foods, has given some analysts hope that a deal between Borders and Barnes & Noble might pass muster.

I, for one, think this is a great idea. In fact, I think that Barnes & Noble should purchase all the publishing houses as well. That way, they can completely control what gets published, what gets promoted, and receive 100% of the profits to boot! Maybe we could just have one editor in charge of it all. Of course he would have to delegate his workload a bit, but still… One editor, one bookstore, one cover design, one printing press (in China, of course), and maybe, ohhhhhh… 15 writers? Imagine how low the overhead would be! Doesn’t that just sound so efficient?

I’ve been keeping track of my reading using an application on Facebook. It has been interesting to watch how many books I’ve read (only 10 so far this year) and how long it has taken me to read them.

I realized I have an strange pattern when it comes to reading. After thinking about it, I realized that I have always read this way, even when I was a kid. Here it is:

Start Book A: This is usually a book that for whatever reason I’m having trouble getting into, but that I really do want to read. I will usually get about two chapters into the book. Then I will:

Start Book B: This is more informational, like a reference book or a famous journal. For instance, two recent Book Bs were a book on four-season gardening and all of John Donne’s poetry. I will read half of the book and then I will:

Start Book C: Book C is a book I am excited about reading. It can be anything from a novel to a biography to a history book. I will start reading Book C, become obsessed and read all of it very quickly. (This also applies for books I have to read, like books I’m reviewing or using as research for an article.) Next, I’ll:

Finish Book C.

Alternate between Book B and Book A.

Finish Book B.

Finish Book A.

Yes, I really do finish Book A. I meant to do it all along, you see. Book B and Book C were distractions from the book I was really reading–which is Book A, of course.

I have no idea why I do this.

I’m really feeling this poem today:

I’m nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there’s a pair of us — don’t tell!
They’d banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

–Emily Dickinson

Applies today more than ever, don’t you think?

I must have read over 70 books this year. I stopped counting when I passed 50 books sometime in August. Still, when I see lists like this, I always feel like I haven’t read anything, ever. Of the NYTimes’ 100 Notable Books for 2007, I have read four of them.

Not that I really expect myself to have read all these books. It seems like lists of books make me worried. I started to go through 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die and quickly got annoyed. Who says I should read all these books? Quit being so bossy, Listology.

In other thoughts, I had no idea so many interesting biographies came out this year. Leonard Woolf? Thomas Hardy? Edith Wharton? Oooooh…

Another study bemoaning that Americans are dumb and lazy and don’t read enough. You know, after awhile you wish people would stop saying “here’s a problem” and start solving the problem, already.

The new report made findings in several areas:

•We are reading less. Americans, especially teenagers and young adults but also college graduates, do little recreational reading. Nearly half of those ages 18 to 24 who were surveyed read no books for pleasure at all. Those ages 15 to 24 who read voluntarily did so for only seven to 10 minutes a day. And among college graduates, reading literature, such as fiction, poetry and plays, dropped by 18 percent from 1982 to 2002.

•We are reading less well. Americans who do read are doing it less proficiently, particularly teenagers and young males, although average reading scores for 9-year-olds recently have risen.

“Elementary schools are doing a good job,” Gioia said, “but the gains top out in adolescence.”

Among adult men and women, proficiency is stagnant or declining at all educational levels, dropping 20 percent from 1993 to 2003 among those with graduate degrees, for example. Those who read the least also had the lowest writing proficiency scores.

•Poor reading skills limit work and life opportunities. Employers rank reading comprehension and written communication skills highly, and those who read least frequently scored lowest in these areas. Poor readers are the most likely to drop out of high school, and low reading ability is common among those in prison.

•Reading correlates with active cultural and civic life. Literary readers were more than three times as likely to visit museums, attend plays or concerts and create art as nonreaders, and more likely to play sports, attend games or do outdoor activities. They also were more likely to do volunteer or charity work and to vote.

One thing I find surprising about Lady Chatterly’s Lover is how relevant Lawrence’s criticism of modern life feels. A lot of the book is about how the quest for power, money, and possessions kills off an authentic sense of self and chances for real happiness, which is certainly an issue in today’s world as well.

Although I don’t agree with Lawrence’s assertion that the cure for modern malaise is to have an affair with a game keeper in a shack in the woods, I like some of the passages in the book, like this one spoken by the game keeper, Mellors (even though it is written in a ghastly vernacular that I think the book would have been better off without):

Let’s live for sommat else. Let’s not live ter make money, neither for us-selves nor for anybody else. Now we’re forced to. We’re forced to make a bit for us-selves, an a fair lot for the bosses. Let’s stop it. … The least bit of money will really do. Just make up your mind and you’ve got out of the mess.

…

Look at yourselves! That’s working for money! — Hark at yourselves! That’s working for money. … Look at your girls! They don’t care about you, and you don’t care about them. It’s because you’ve spent your time working and caring for money. You can’t talk nor move nor live, you can’t properly be with a woman. You’re not alive. Look at yourselves.

Does that seem scarily relevant to you too? Written almost 100 years ago.

Maybe it’s the fall weather or something, but I really want to move to a cabin somewhere on the East Coast and hide. I want to eat apples and watch leaves change and write in my hand-shewn desk without Internet or TV distracting me. I don’t want to engage in the daily tread of gossip and phone calls and minor irritations and betrayals. I definitely don’t want to do the dishes. Or scrape tile glue off the bathroom wall of the new house.

I am tired of being professional. See, sometimes I try to be professional for awhile and return e-mails quickly and make phone calls and thank people for things. However, it quickly starts to feel like I’m on a hamster’s wheel where the quicker I respond and the more professional I seem, the more there is for me to be professional about and more things there are to respond to. Isn’t the point to finish work, not create more work?

I guess instead of moving to the East Coast, I will carve pumpkins and eat a lot of roasted vegetables. And I will get rid of TV–I’m tired of it and we can use the extra $50 a month. And I will read books. Currently: Lady Chatterly’s Lover by DH Lawrence and Varieties of Disturbance by Lydia Davis. I am enjoying both, especially Davis’s book. I knew short stories could be like this, but it’s nice to be reminded.

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Doris Lessing’s reaction to learning she won the Nobel Prize for Golden Notebook? “Oh Christ …”

This made me laugh out loud. Later in the interview, she says, rather sarcastically, “I’ve won all the prizes in Europe, every bloody one, and I’m delighted to with them all. It’s a whole lot, okay? It’s a royal flush.”

I love it. I love when people don’t care about these major (and political) honors that everyone else drools over. And I love salty old ladies who say what they think.

UPDATE: An interesting follow-up article in the Guardian.

“There were lots of people who have wanted me to have it for a long time, so it is very nice that I have. I’m exhausted. To celebrate I’d have to go and buy champagne. I’m going to bed.”

My book review on I Heart My In-Laws by Dina Koutas Poch is up on PopMatters.

When I read I Heart My In-Laws by Dina Koutas Poch, I was a little worried that my mother-in-law would see the book lying around and think I had some unspoken issues with her. I’ve heard stories about other people’s in-laws that range from horrible to downright nightmarish, so I didn’t want to do anything to suggest there are any lurking problems. Even in a healthy relationship, it’s not good to rock the boat.

But I needn’t have worried. Poch’s book has as much for those who like their in-laws as those who don’t. After all, any time two families mesh, there’s bound to be some friction, even if it’s just when getting to know each other.

More here

Read To Them.

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