I read The Magic of Tidying Up a few years ago, and other than the now-ubiquitous phrase of “sparking joy”, I have not retained much from it. I would like to be the kind of person who folds her socks in a neat and precise manner, but alas; I know myself well enough to not even pretend. And while I made some efforts at using the “does it spark joy” approach to closet editing, I found it not particularly useful; honestly, after repeating that question to myself a dozen times, the words stopped making any sense. I have since come up with other wardrobe management techniques that work for me and keep my closet from overflowing my whole house. [I kid, but it’s not outside the realm of possibility, you guys.]
Of course, in the last couple of months, with the release of Marie Kondo’s Netflix series, KonMari is back in the news. I tried watching an episode, but didn’t finish it. I normally love any opportunity to peek into people’s homes, so I was somewhat surprised by how not-interesting I found the show (Marie Kondo herself seems delightful). I have concluded that I am simply not part of the intended audience.
This needs some unpacking because, on a certain level, I am most definitely part of the core audience for KonMari: namely, people with plenty of disposable income and materialistic predispositions. [Let’s face it: there are lots of people for whom KonMari has no relevance for the simple fact that they don’t have the privilege of owning anything more than the bare necessities (or less).] But even so, it doesn’t speak to me. I think the fundamental principle at the core of it – that you should only surround yourself with things that matter to you and/or bring value to your life – is an important one. How that looks in practice will be vastly different from person to person, and I think KonMari is too prescriptive/arbitrary if taken literally.
Why, for example, is 30 books the maximum that any person should have in their home? I live in a 1,700 square foot home; I have room for more. More importantly, I have room for more in my heart. Books are a fundamental part of who I am, and have been since I was a child. I will come back to this in a moment, because the online debate around home libraries sparked by Marie Kondo and her work has been very interesting to me.
Something else that sparks joy for me? Home décor trinkets. There are certain things I like to collect, and certain “treasures” that I have accumulated over the years; much like books and clothes, they tell the story of who I am. Although it might not look like it to some people, I do curate my collections – both adding and taking away pieces regularly. I actually hate visual clutter and while what constitutes “clutter” to my eye might be different than for someone else, once my house steps over that line, I take immediate action.
At the same time, I don’t accumulate objects in categories that don’t matter to me. I’m not big into cooking, and you’d be hard-pressed to find our one lonely spatula, much less multiples, in my kitchen. I don’t like to decorate the house seasonally, and other than Christmas tree ornaments, I don’t own any items of that kind. My linen closet is streamlined. So is my make-up drawer. [Which is not to say that I’m perfect. I probably own more stationery than I could reasonably justify, for example, and while I like that stuff a lot, it’s probably not worth hoarding.]
With age, I have settled into my habits and learned that the important bit is figuring out how to best maximize the value of whatever money (and time) I have at my disposal. I try not to invest financial resources or mental energy into things that don’t matter to me, unless they are absolute necessities. [So, for example, I keep a working kitchen because I still need to feed my family; a true chef would find it woefully inadequate.] And I periodically reassess the value of the things I choose in the first place. Maybe this is just another way of saying “does this spark joy” but, for me, the question is: is this the best use of this space (physical and/or metaphorical) in my life? Some things are worth having or keeping because they serve a necessary function; some things because they add meaning or beauty and are, in their own way, irreplaceable – whether for that moment, or for a season, or a dozen seasons.
I can imagine that perhaps some people need help identifying for themselves the categories of things that truly matter to them, but I don’t believe a one-size-fits-all approach is ideal here. Some people might need no more than 30 books in their house; some might need 30 spatulas – “need” being a relative term in both cases. I exaggerate, but you get my point.
Let’s go back to books for a moment, because I am intrigued by the debate around that. For the record, I find both the ends of the spectrum equally strange. I don’t judge people for not keeping books in their house, if that is their preference, but I also don’t understand why others are so vehemently against home libraries. Owning books (or not) is not a moral choice, folks. It is not inherently better to own books, or not to own books. My choice to build a house made of books does not invalidate your choice to keep none.
The idea of owning books as a signal – of class, or intellectual achievement – is also bizarre to me. I grew up in houses where books were plentiful, and I derive tremendous comfort from being physically surrounded by books. I also love to read, and I like having a wide variety of books at my fingertips. I grew up dreaming of owning my own library, and I am fortunate enough to have made that dream come true, but it was not a decision calculated as a means to an end; it was my end goal, my princess castle come to life. While I appreciate the privilege inherent in that outcome, it’s never been my intent to wield it as such. There was a long period of my life when I could not afford to own many books, and used public libraries extensively. [I also used to work in one.] I remain a strong supporter of the public library system because literacy is a human right. I don’t think my stance on that and ownership of a home library are mutually exclusive.
I get asked a lot of questions about my home library, perhaps none more often than “have you read all those books?” The answer is no. And perhaps more shocking to a KonMari adherent is the fact that I don’t necessarily plan to read them all, ever. It may happen that I do. Anything is possible. But I certainly have acquired books – mostly from donations, but also through actual (thrift) purchases – that I have no immediate desire to read. This is hard to explain to people who are not bibliophiles (and maybe even to some who are). To me, a book has value beyond its immediate utility for my own purposes. It might be something another family member would enjoy reading; it might be something that my kids might someday find useful for a school project. There are very few books that don’t have some kind of value, actual or potential. A book is untapped potential waiting for its moment. Metaphorically speaking, I like the idea of being surrounded by an infinite number of yet-to-be-discovered journeys. Some people might find that a stressful thought, a ticking to-do list; to me, it’s a wonderful thing. I feel no particular pressure to read this or that book. I like to know that I can, if and when the mood strikes.
After all that, you may be surprised to hear that I do get rid of books from time to time. It’s rare, but it happens. It takes a lot for me to punt a book, though. I have to (a) strongly dislike it, and (b) find no redeeming merit (literary or academic). Off the top of my head, I can think of only one book in recent memory that met those criteria. [It was a book by Ruth Ware and it was aggressively uninspired and unforgivably boring.]
I’d be curious to know your thoughts, both on the subject of home libraries, and KonMari more generally.
What a wonderful statement concerning the unlimited potential of books!
I agree with you wholeheartedly! I thought I was the only weirdo who thought this was ridiculous, all the bloggers have embraced this. But then again, to me, they are like lemmings and seem to showcase the same things from clothing to all of a sudden the same plants, and ethical fashion.
My mind always goes to the scene in the John Wayne Maureen O’Hara movie, The Quiet Man, where Maureen states she wants ‘her things about her’. Well, that’s how I feel too!
Happy thrifting!
That quote is ME! There is a fine line between collector and hoarder, but that is the complexity of life. It can’t always be reduced to simple rules. Some people want black and white rules, but the older I get, the more I appreciate the grey (no pun intended). On further reflection, I think I may have come across more judgmental of KonMari in my post than I intended. (Also, as with any popular thing, its message is getting bastardized to hell and back by people jumping on a bandwagon – both on the pro and con side of the debate).
Agreed about the bandwagon! But I don’t think you are being too judgmental, you are expressing how you feel, very eloquently.
My mother-in-law would have loved Marie Kondo, her house was very sparse, and to me, very sterile and cold. But that was her thing and it made her happy. So anyway, I love reading your blog, it’s so much fun to see your finds, and if I had a daughter she would be you!!
Have a fabulous day!
As for the show, I heard that the first episode was super boring but it got better from there.
And as for KonMari in general, I’m all for anyone who advocates mindfulness and purposeful consumption. I think the increasing affordability of consumer goods (again, like you mention, not for everyone) has resulted in people buying what they don’t really “need” (want?) because of the decreasing impact to personal budgets.
It’s funny to me how books have become controversial. Reminds me of when Whole 30 came out and people were suddenly debating whether beans are healthy. Different strokes, people!!
Yes, different strokes is what makes the world go around!! 🙂
I feel like a lot of your assessment falls into the line of “sparking joy”. But it’s worth noting that she never said that you can only have 30 books, but just started that’s the number of books she has at home. I find this article interesting if you care to read.
https://www.bustle.com/p/the-marie-kondo-books-debate-has-classist-racist-undertones-that-cant-be-ignored-15796044
I actually just read that article this morning after another blogger I follow linked it. I thought it made some good points. I think a lot of my issues with KonMari come from the way it’s been co-opted in the last few years by western media/culture. The root of my reservations has to do with over-simplification and arbitrary rules which, to be fair, might come from people speaking for Kondo.
I still don’t agree with the idea of getting books you haven’t read 😉
Loved this post! I made it through two episodes but found it pretty boring. I was also super annoyed at the husband in the first episode (who seemed so irritated at his wife…I thought the producers would have cut a lot of that out, because it seemed like such overtly bad behavior). Anyway, yes, it was just kind of meh to me. Did not spark joy (lol). I’m kind of like you, a maximalist where it counts (where it sparks joy I guess?). I laughed out loud at your spatula comment, as my MIL is always horrified at my mediocre kitchen. In the end, I think it’s not how much you own, its whether you’re buying it with intention and thoughtfulness, which I guess is at least partly what Marie Kondo is trying to communicate.
I agree re your last comment. One aspect of KonMari that I forgot to mention, and which I like a lot (though I don’t apply it as much as I should) is the idea of thanking objects for their service. This is the thrifter in me talking, but I feel like the objects I thrift often come into my life for a reason/purpose (because I don’t necessarily set out to find/buy them). Recognizing the lessons they help teach me, or the value they bring to my life, is a lovely way to practice gratitude, which is something I’m trying to do more consistently these days.
Oh yes, I liked that part too! I actually found the act of thanking your house (for always keeping you safe,etc) moving. Gratitude goes a long way.
The home library stuff is interesting. My personal theory is that it’s a point of contention because it’s where two forms of aspirational thinking collide. All decluttering, not just hers, also relies on a sort of tough love, a demand that you put aside objects that you had hoped would represent the new you, whether that’s a smaller size of jeans or that copy of War and Peace. By facing who you are and pruning back to what you love/use/need, it promises that you’ll have more control over your life, have better relationships, etc. Home libraries promise that you might one day read War and Peace or remind you that you used to love Dickens. They encourage aspirational thinking through abundance.
Both can be depressing, depending on where you’re at in life. It can feel really grim to have someone say to you, “you are who you are. Your things should reflect what the current you enjoys, not some future vision of you who will probably never start making bread from scratch.” What if you don’t want to give up the dream of a better you?Equally, it can be grim to see the stack of Russian textbooks from ten years ago because it reminds you of everything you failed to do. I can see why it hits a nerve.
I don’t think it’s grim at all … except that I don’t see it applying to books for me. Like, I definitely try not to keep clothes for a “skinnier me” (I used to keep clothes for hypothetical Adinas with different personalities to suit my various moods, but I’ve gotten better, haha) or appliances I don’t use, etc. But books just don’t lend themselves to the same categorization in my mind. “I might like to read that someday” is somehow entirely and fundamentally different than “I might start baking my own bread someday”. I know, it sounds so arbitrary! I probably need therapy to unpack my relationship with books, lol!
I think that’s probably common for book people, though. It can be liberating to accept you’re not going to bake bread or play squash or whatever. I mean, how many people really care about giving up the thirteenth spatula, if you get to keep the other twelve? You still get to be a person who cooks either way. But books have aspirational identities attached to them in a different respect. It’s not just clearing out what you won’t read; it’s accepting and clearing out the fact that you’ll never really get around to learning art history or figuring out in detail why the Great Depression happened or whatever. Clearing out your library asks you to accept that you won’t have a certain type of interest or be a certain type of person intellectually. I think that’s a lot more personal than asking someone to admit they’re never going to be the sort of person who bakes bread.
And, frankly, I think people get tired of hearing the message that you have to curate and optimize everything. Books are just a space to push back on that.
That may be true but counterpoint: can I say for sure that I’ll never one day wake up and be really curious about the Great Depression? I fall down weird rabbit holes all the time, and I love being able to pull up a book from my library when the mood strikes. Obviously, I can’t own an immense library, but within reason, I indulge those possibilities. It’s an anachronism in the age of Google, I admit 😅
I guess I just struggle with the idea that my library says anything about me other that I’m a person who likes books a lot. Like, books as a status symbol (beyond the obvious financial privilege of simply owning and housing large quantities of paper) is a weird concept to me. Do people really curate their books based on what other people might think of their intellect?! I guess I better stop buying mystery novels and double down on the French philosophers 😜
Anyway, that’s an interesting perspective, is what I forgot to say. Thank you for sharing!
I have 18 books in my house. A few are reference books (quilting and cookbooks), a couple are children’s books my parent wrote decades ago, and a couple I’m actively reading. The rest are temporary, hanging out here only until I install my Free Little Library in a few weeks.
I’ve never cared for knick-knacks or decorations. I enjoy full bookshelves in other people’s homes or hotel lobbies or bookstores or libraries, and then I happily come home to my clean blank walls.
Nothing wrong with that!
Thanks for sharing your love of libraries! I’m on my local library’s foundation board and am always amazed how many free resources go overlooked. They’re a great democratizer.
I also love collecting books and think a lot about what my (future) children may enjoy stumbling across. I read a wide variety of books growing up, thanks to the books my parents had lying around the house. I wouldn’t have picked it out from the library or purchased them for myself, but read them simply because they were sitting around.
Same! One of my fave books from childhood (that I still remember) was a book of opera plot synopses. No way a kid would have picked that out on their own, but I found it and read it probably a dozen times. (Can’t say I’m particularly fond of opera as an adult or anything, lol!)
I think it’s amazing how many free resources our public libraries offer these days – way more than even back when I was growing up. Public monies well spent!
OT: Was the Ruth Ware book The Lying Game? I found it tedious and unbelievable even though I enjoyed another of her books.
No, it was The Death of Mrs. Westaway. I thought about giving her other books a chance but … nah.
I don’t get the Spark Joy thing at all. I think the idea that your things should speak to you is a ticket to more consumption, as you try to find the perfect things.
I love this line about books Adina – “I have room for more in my heart”. That’s how I feel about books. We always had LOADS of books growing up – I used to use my pocket money each week to buy a new Sweet Valley Twins (then moved onto High), Point Horror / Crime, Babysitters Club books and still have them all. As well as all my old Roald Dahl books.
They’ve all moved to the new house and I’ve unboxed the SVT & Dahl onto Elodie’s bookshelf. Felix is terrified of The Witches because of the children disappearing but she loves it and they both find The Twits hysterical. Reading books from my childhood with them brings me such joy and I’ve been picking up barely used Dahl books in the charity shops for them as some of mine are falling apart.
I do use my Kindle on a daily basis too but I love that all my books are now on a bookshelf in the dining room, read and unread alike and I can just pick one up whenever I fancy. My mum, sister, aunt and I constantly swap books when we’ve finished them too.
We had parents evening last night and Elodie’s teacher said she has a “writers voice” and she adores marking her story work. She encouraged us to keep on reading with her, fostering that love of words and creating stories and my heat melted a little bit that she’s so much like her Mummy in her love of books and reading 🙂
Awww, this reminds me so much of my own childhood. (and I hope you nurture Elodie’s love of writing, not doing that more for myself is probably one of my biggest regrets).
I actually do the same with my kids — to the extent I can find the same books I used to read (most were not English language). My son and I went through all 3 volumes of Mary Poppins a few years ago, and he just saw the new movie and loved it. He’s been reading Dahl on his own, but I’m trying to get him into Harry Potter. It’s hard, because he’s more interested in Ripleys Believe or Not and his Mario Brothers encyclopedia 😂
Hi Adina,
I read Marie Kondo’s two books a few years ago and really liked them (and reread them). I though she had an engaging and endearing ‘voice’/perspective. (I’ve only seen about 15 minutes of the show). To me, some of the book takeaways were about mindful consumption/not allowing ‘needed’ possessions to become a burden/weight, focusing on what you can control about discarding/organizing your own stuff rather than someone else’s, and that (almost) no one likes holding on to too much paper and if you need it in the future you’ll find another solution and best not to spend an hour trying to find it. I will say I definitely never mastered or understood her perspective on folding.
Regarding books specifically–when I was younger I definitely wanted a big (grand) home library someday. I’ve always been a big reader and was lucky to have parents with a number of books themselves, and who were also generous in buying books for me. Over time though, I’ve come to rely on and appreciate libraries a lot more, generally just buying books if they’re ones that I anticipate rereading a number of times. Part of this is due to living in smaller apartments, moving more regularly, finances. But I’d certainly almost always support someone buying books–to help support writers, publishers, and book stores! My impression of the KonMari method was that while it had a prescriptive element, it’s really more about thinking consciously about your stuff–appreciating it for the ways in which it serves you and/or makes you happy, but recognizing that it can be hard to make a life in a space that’s too cluttered with accumulation or that it’s draining. I also think that there may be a cultural difference too in that she is Japanese and was originally working with a Japanese audience and where I think there are probably different space/housing constraints, plus some different religious aspects, maybe around Shintoism. (Not that I know much about this or have been to Japan, so this is somewhat speculative on my part!)
I did want to say, I always enjoy reading your blog and seeing the things and clothing you choose to share!
I def agree that “stuff” – the buying, organizing, cleaning up, etc – is mentally draining. It took me a long time to get that, but I totally do now. I try to be mindful of that and selective about the things I bring home nowadays, which runs counter to my materialistic side who loves being surrounded by “my things”. But it has to be things I love and treasure, and not simply … stuff.