In discussing the concept of libraries with the fine folks at Observatory (link at end), and then packing my own ad hoc library of books, I went through a laundry cycle of emotions as I handled the books people have given or recommended to me.
Imagine, a taxonomy of these cues.
Think of the Wodehouse collection.
Would I have ever read Maugham were it not for him?
How many double-takes have you gotten from Blood Meridian?
How many reference books were gifts? And all from the same person?
I will never read that conspiracy theory on 9-11 gifted by the Frenchman,
nor will I ever forget being read Possession in bed by the American.
How strange that two totally unrelated and wildly different people should recommend Flann O'Brien. One because he loved him and the other because she didn't,
but thought I would.
Pattern Recognition, a bible to so many.
Airport paperbacks, trash to so few.
Instead of lending my cues, I tell everyone: