I give books as gifts every chance I get. I gave board books to my nieces and nephews when they were little; they’re the only reason I follow children’s, middle grade, and young adult literature. Books are always my gift for my sister-in-law and brother. (My brother got me into inscribing books. I have no idea why I didn’t do this before.) Giving books, however, is tricky. Book tastes are so individual and it’s so easy to read things into the gift of a book. (Ha!) The trickiness of giving a book shouldn’t put potential book givers off. Give books for Christmas and Chanukkah. Give them for birthdays. Give them for the hell of it!
I think we want to give books, for the most part, because we want to share the emotions we experienced when we read them. We want to share the feeling of being seen, when a book captures us. We want to share the joy of a happy ending or the catharsis of a resolved struggle. We want to share the satisfaction of solving a mystery with a detective. The trouble comes in when I remember that half a story is what the reader brings to the text. I firmly believe that texts don’t come to life until a reader immerses themselves in the words. Because we’re bringing our own memories and opinions to the story, it’s no wonder that sometimes the joy, satisfaction, catharsis, and so on don’t always translate to other readers. There’s a reason why I argue with fans of Hemingway (hate him) and Dickens (love him). (Most people I talk to agree that Joyce is a crank.)
So, fellow readers, when you go out to the bookstores to look for the perfect story to give, my advice to you is to think about the person who will be the next person to bring that story to life. What memories will the book bring to mind? What events bring them joy or puzzle or frustrate them? I don’t give some of my favorite books because I know that not many readers enjoy unreliable narrators or metafictional elements*. I also know that other readers don’t want grit or heavy sacrifices. When I select a book, I look back at what I’ve read and try to match them to what I know other readers might like. Thus, for my sister-in-law, I look for meaningful love stories. For my brother, I look back at the science nonfiction for books that blew my mind. For my mom, I look for books that celebrate our family’s Scandinavian heritage. I look for books that I’ve read that remind me of the people in my life and I give them in the hope that these stories will be loved.
…And if the books I give don’t spark joy? Well, there’s always next year.
* I am a sucker for a humorous footnote…Just in case this is read by friends and family who might want to buy me a book.
I like to give books too, but it is hard to find the right match sometimes. And on the flip side, as a recipient, I sometimes find I just don’t care for a book someone else gave me- could just be the writing style or something else. Then I feel guilty for not liking such a thoughtful gift.
I’ve bought books for everyone in the family except my brother in law who struggles to read just one book a year – so any purchase for him would be a waste of money.