One of the things librarians kvetch about (and we kvetch about a lot of things) is how our patrons drop off tons of books that we can’t use because they’re a) obsolete, b) uninteresting, and/or c) gross. But for the protagonist of Too Loud a Solitude, by Bohumil Hrabal (and translated by Michael Henry Heim), discarded books are something to be rescued or turned into artistically ironic art. Hanta works as a paper and book baler. Every day for thirty five years, he has taken scrap paper and damaged books and baled them for their trip to the landfill or recyclers. His job has shaped him and, in this novel, he tells about what he’s learned over the years.
Hanta is a hermit. All he does is make bales and drink and read the books he steals from his job. Hanta has a serious case of bibliomania. His apartment, he tells us, is full of books. The bathroom is full. He even built a canopy over his bed for books, but now has to worry that it might collapse under the weight of the books and kill him. He’s taught himself several graduate courses worth of philosophy from rescued books. Hanta even has a nice sideline in selling books and things he recovers from the horde.
Because of his love of books, Hanta is not a good choice for his job (hence all the beer). He loves the books too much. He’s not callous enough to just shovel books and papers into the baler and send the bales on their way. It takes him ages (to his boss’ frustration) to make bales, but the mice are happy to have a mostly undisturbed habitat. Unfortunately for Hanta, his good thing is about to come to an end, in the form of an industrious group of laborers and a massive baler that puts his own to shame.
Hanta’s story comes from the end of the line for books and I admire him for being the thin dusty line and rescuing books, even if I also know how quixotic it is. I can see why Too Loud a Solitude has a warm place in so many readers hearts. The thought of getting rid of books forever—not just passing them on to other readers when we’re done with them—is gut-wrenching. Books represent so much, while the destruction of books is associated with the worst parts of western history. But as a librarian, I know that not all books belong in all libraries. I also know that books that have been ruined, sprouted mold, or infested by insects must go straight to the landfill.