When I first moved to the United States four years ago, I took a carry-on bag filled with books I was desperately worried about creasing and breaking. Out of all of my Korean, Arabic, and English books, these were the chosen ones—the books my mother and father were willing to give up from their long-inherited lineage of novels, comics, and short stories. In addition to the select books that were lugged across the Atlantic Ocean, my current bookshelf is an accumulation of classic literature and music books that I have collected during my time at the University of Tennessee pursuing my English and Jazz majors.
Every major classic literature book pertaining to my literature degree is present: the Complete Jane Austen Novels for my 1800s British Lit class, Tolstoy’s War and Peace and Anna Karenina for my Russian Lit class, a collection of Shakespeare’s plays for my 1600s Lit class, and finally a collection of Hemingway, Steinbeck, and Baldwin for the best class I have ever taken, Modern American Novel with Dr. Jennings. Additionally, on my bedside table (not pictured), there is a collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s short stories and poems that I read before bed. Equally as enthralling as my classic literature collection, I have a decent-sized amount of philosophy books, specifically Camus, Sartre, Kierkegaard, and Dostoevsky.
I feel strangely sentimental toward my books, but I wouldn’t say I’m attached to them. I feel as though, much like the people in my life who have come and gone, the books in my life have never been continuously present—I don’t remember the oldest book I own or the first book I was ever given. I have never been able to have a collection as revered as my parents’ bookshelf back at home and I can’t imagine I ever will. Half of my collection tends to be sitting in different tote bags, backpacks, luggage, or even the back seats of my car.
As organized and neat as I am, I tend to scribble on pages of my books: annotations, markings, stickers, notes, coffee stains, bleeding pens, pressed flowers and foliage—anything you can think of is probably in a book somewhere on my small shelf. Every book I own is heavily used but always bought new in the hopes of making it feel like my own. I hold each book I was ever gifted really close to my heart, making sure to never lose it.
Having a rich cultural background with roots in Syria and South Korea, Noor Chang has lived in Damascus, Cairo, Jeddah, Dubai, and Knoxville, making her a citizen of the world. Chang’s unique perspective growing up as a foreigner under Bashar Al-Assad’s dictatorship in the midst of the Arab Spring grants her a nuanced political and cultural understanding of the Middle East that fuels her passion for journalism, traveling, and creativity. Chang is completing her final year at the University of Tennessee as a jazz pianist and an English Literature major. Her experience includes scholarly research, teaching, freelance writing, and performing.
