Project Bookshelf: Isabelle Whittall

A large four-by-four wooden beige Ikea bookshelf in the middle of a hardwood floor. The top of the bookshelf is adorned by photo frames, a feather, and three figurine statues. Each shelf in the bookshelf is full.

My bookshelf is more of a figurative shelf, one that follows me everywhere. The above bookshelf is the one in my bedroom in my parents’ house, which houses tomes I haven’t chosen to bring with me in my new places.

I moved from my home state, California, when I was twelve. In Montreal, my new home, I moved to two different houses. Now I live in an apartment in Vancouver, the second place I have lived in this new city.

The bookshelf in my parents’ home carries memories from many years. I am a Virgo, which suggests that I am organized, and in most ways, this is true. I tend to organize in a way that works for me only, though. An organized mess, you could say.

A zoomed-in section of a beige wooden Ikea bookshelf. The shelves have books stacked vertically and horizontally, some on top of each other. The top right shelf has a golden frog ornament in it, and the bottom right shelf has a large red organizing box in it.

My methods are exemplified in the way I ordered the books on my parents’ home bookshelf. On the left side, I have a favorites shelf, and then a second-favorites shelf. These include childhood reads like Cornelia Funke or Philip Pullman, as well as teen favorites, like John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany. I have two “to read” shelves, and these grow consistently, particularly around the holidays. One of the new additions is a poetry collection by Mary Oliver.

A zoomed-in section of a beige wooden Ikea bookshelf. The middle four shelves are filled with books, while the top two have objects or picture frames or in them. The bottom two shelves have wicker baskets for organization.

On the right side, I keep all my academic texts, from high school to CEGEP to university. Within these I have a favorites (and then a second-favorites) shelf as well; notable mentions are Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Bernard Schlink’s The Reader, and Norman Cantor’s Civilization of the Middle Ages. The organized mess continues here. Every book is where it should be, but some are placed horizontally above a row of others, or leaned strategically against a shelf wall to keep others in place.

In my current apartment is a sporadic collection of library books, academic books, and the select few I brought with me when I moved. Sometimes when I visit my parents for holidays, I bring back others to join that group. Favorites in my apartment include Eve Babitz’s Slow Days, Fast Company, Orion Carloto’s Film For Her, and Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis. My last library read was Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston.

Books follow me everywhere. Last week I flew from Montreal to Vancouver, and I was worried all flight long about my new orange leather purse, weighed down well past its limit by the many books I decided must come with me. I have always been someone with things strewn across the world, it seems. Sometimes I forget a title in my childhood best friend’s home in California. Sometimes I lend books, and forget who the lucky recipient was. Sometimes I leave them all around my apartment and then spend a frantic ten minutes running around the place before I leave for class. It’s natural for me, and although it can be frustrating, it feels right that stories would attach to me this way. They’re never really mine, anyway. I just borrow them for little bits of life, learning devoutly from one before becoming enamoured with another.

A young white woman with dark blonde curly hair that reaches her shoulders. She wears a tee shirt and the sun is shining on her face. She looks pensive and she wears yellow cat earrings.

Isabelle Whittall is pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in combined Philosophy and Political Science at the University of British Columbia (UBC). She co-hosts the radio show Hail! Discordia! on CITR 101.9fm, and is an Editorial Board Member of UBC’s Journal of Philosophical Enquiries.