The race to read

I am a bibliophile. I'm not just someone who likes to read, but someone who truly loves and appreciates all that is to do with books. Not just what beautiful surprises are contained therein, but their aesthetic qualities, their smell (see earlier post!) and what they represent. Someone said to me recently that they thought that the future of books lay in the "ebook" and what can be found online. I have to say I disagree vehemently and hope that they are wrong! Books can contain the works of a lifetime, some of genius, some are just entertaining, some thought provoking and deep. To open the first page and gently crease back the spine as one delves into the unknown is a pleasure that is surely unmatched by typing into a computer or squinting at a small screen to try and read the words on a tiny screen. At this very minute I have a dilemma which consists of "The White Tiger" by Aravind Adiga, a biography of Francis Bacon, two Doris Lessing novels and about a dozen or so other books bought in recent months. On top of that, a book about Welsh History from the Open University beckons as I start a short course in April. Books represent so much that I have become today, and indeed what I would love to do in the future. Our apartment is full of them. I do try and offload some from time to time but every loss is heart wrenching! Soon we'll be bulging at the seams so I'll have to try and be ruthless, but it's so hard! What do books mean to all of you?