It’s World Book Day today, and for some strange reason a storage company has conducted a survey into the books in British homes. According to their findings, the average home has 138 books, and more than half of them are unread.

The implication is that we are hoarding. According to the Telegraph‘s report, ‘two thirds of those who took part said they kept books because they were emotionally attached to them, while over one in four said they hated throwing anything away’. As numerous television programmes have taught us in recent years, this kind of irrational activity needs to be stopped. Time to call in the professional declutterer, who will rid you of our inner turmoil and your surplus stuff at the same time. If you remain emotionally attached to the books, the storage firm may be able to help (first month for just £1!)

Perhaps we like the unread books, though. They are a space of possibility, a spur to dreaming. The cookery books are full of meals we might cook, one day, the travel guides of places we might stay, when we have some time and money to spare. The novels are journeys not taken, yet. Our need for the hidden realms that lie beneath the covers is beautifully captured in Angela Leighton’s poem ‘BOOK’, from her new collection ‘The Messages‘ (Shoestring Press):

BOOK

A fan of leaves, a touching brief,
a dream-hold, bolt-hole,
an answeringness like calls in sleep,

and buff or gloss, matt or shine,
accommodating hands and eyes,
you’ll touch its brainwaves shut in lines–

the moveless picture of a moving sea–
and look to hear and mean to feel
in the swim of it how to drown for real.