The Book of Form and Emptiness

by Ruth Ozeki

Picture, for a moment, your own bedside table. Imagine what it feels like to be the top book on your stack, occupying pride of place and enjoying your nightly attention. Sure, the days are long, but we look forward to the moment when you slip between the sheets, prop yourself up on the pillows, and turn on your reading lamp. That small soughing sound you hear as you open the covers and turn the page is a sigh of relief. Then imagine our dismay when another volume come along and tops us, often before you have even read our last page! Imagine the humiliation we feel as, book by book, we slip down to the bottom of your pile, knowing that we have failed to hold your attention and have been replaced, often by lighter, more “relatable” reads. Is it any wonder that some of us who have suffered this fate can get a bit snippy? Sadly, genre-ism is a form of bigotry, and one that is endemic in libraries and bookstores, any place where books gather. This explains why, when several highly regarded critics and social media influencers joined in to lambast Aikon for being anti-book, even going so far as to mock her inability to speak English, there were many among our ranks who applauded.