Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader was a great little collection of literary essays. The writing is charming, articulate and humorous. I found myself genuinely laughing out loud many times and nodding my head in mutual recognition of a shared obsession for books. The essays are six to eight pages in length so this is a quick read and great when you only have 10 minutes here and there to spare. The topics are wide-ranging - from marrying libraries to compulsive proof-reading, her “odd shelf” (books unrelated to the rest of her library) to the problem of too many books and too little space. Fadiman’s love of books and reading comes alive on every page as only a reader will appreciate. I recommend this book for any bibliophile.

I loved that throughout the book, Anne Fadiman details her relationships, not only with books, but with her husband, children, parents and friends. I come from a long line of readers myself and am also fortunate to have a husband who loves to read. I can’t imagine not being surrounded by other readers. One of the true joys of reading is being able to share those delights with others.

My favorite essay by far was Never Do That to a Book. In it, Fadiman recounts staying in a European hotel with her brother when they were young. “Kim left a book facedown on the bedside table. The next afternoon, he returned to find the book closed, a piece of paper inserted to mark the page, and the following note, signed by the chambermaid, resting on its cover: SIR, YOU MUST NEVER DO THAT TO A BOOK.” She goes on to discuss that there is more than one way to love a book - courtly love and carnal love. I am guilty and readily confess to being a courtly lover of books. I happily strive to keep my books in pristine condition no matter how many times I read them… so much so that my grandmother is too afraid to borrow my books. I just can’t help but cringe when I see dog-eared pages and creased spines! ( )

I loved this. Adored it. It's been a long time since I finished a book and wanted to start all over again. I even read the acknowledgments to make it last longer. And when was the last time anyone said all that about a book of essays?

This is a book about books. It's actually a collection of essays that Fadiman (daughter of the late famed scholar and book lover Clifton Fadiman) wrote for Civilization, the magazine of the Library of Congress. I'm not sure the magazine exists anymore (which is a shame), but for several years at least, Fadiman wrote a column there called "The Common Reader." We're talking about essays such as "Marrying Libraries," which is all about how Fadiman and her husband George Howe Colt -- after several years living together and several more as a married couple -- finally took the leap and merged their book collections. Before that they each had their books segregated on opposite walls in their NYC loft apartment. Now, combining libraries doesn't sound like such a big deal. The hardest decision would be what to do about duplicates. Do you keep both, or does that imply a lack of faith in the relationship and a potential for splitting the libraries apart again in the future? But no. The most difficult aspect for Fadiman and Colt appeared to be deciding whose classification system they would use.

There's another essay on Fadiman's love of big words, otherwise known as sesquipedalians. (And yes, I already knew that. I just have trouble spelling it.) Her family used to collect them, trade them, and try to one up each other. I must add here that this is the first book I've read in a very long time where I actually needed to reach for the dictionary a couple of times. Though that might say more about what I'm reading than what Fadiman was writing.

At the end of the day, I found myself really wanting to know Anne Fadiman. I wanted to compare book collections with her, and chat over dinner. I wanted to have a dinner party, invite her, and ask her to bring along half a dozen of her friends that she mentions in the book. These are people who don't mind when she calls them up and asks what titles they used to steal off their parents bookshelves when they were kids. They sounded like good folks.

Anyway, I guess you could say I liked this book. By the end I really felt like I'd made a new friend. Not to mention a really long list of books that my new friend had recommended... ( )

I don’t recall exactly when this book found me. I recall being married at the time; my 2nd wife and I were at a “Big Box” bookstore very late in the evening, and we had already been married a few years, but not as many as the book had been printed. So, the fact that I came upon a possibly eight-year-old First Edition hardcover in a store renowned for its high-volume, sell-them-or-send-them-back business model, was in itself rather remarkable and worth noting.

I actually read Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader for the first time in 2006. That would make this review the product of a Re-Reading, which coincidentally, is the subject of another one of this author’s books. Aside: Anne was the editor of that book, and wrote the Foreword for it. That in itself, was worth the price of the book.

At the time I first read Ex Libris, I was not in the habit of writing reviews of any books, and once I did begin to record my opinions, I felt a pang of guilt, because this one is truly wonderful, and deserves better of me.

I may as well get it out now and be done with it… Anne Fadiman has become my all-time favorite author. She may be usurped some day if I read anything by ~her~ favorite author, E. B. White, but I have so far successfully evaded all of his writings, ensuring Anne’s prime position as THE Preferred Author. Reading these essays, for me, is like I have just spent a day with a good friend that I hadn’t seen in a couple of years, and we were able to get caught up on how our lives were going. I assure you, this is not infatuation, but I’d like to sit down with her some time and talk over coffee. I’d even spring for the pastries.

Ex Libris is a collection of eighteen essays, the longest of which span ten pages. It’s good, easy reading. It’s the kind of book you read in queue – at the bank, the supermarket, traffic lights… But it’s best read sitting in a comfortable seat because you really don’t want to stop once you get started. Each essay is a delight, and had plenty to muse over when you finish it – except for one. It’s nine pages long and has thirty-eight footnotes in it, which occupied the majority of the physical space therein. And whereas that was the point of the essay, it was nonetheless annoying as all get-out. But I forgive her, because I understand why she did it.

Ex Libris is a book lover’s dream come true. It validates your reasons for wanting to read. It soothes the brow from the ravages of marginalia and dog-ears. It justifies cataloging and excessive purchasing – the bookends of the book, these two are probably my two favorite essays of the bunch. The rest are really just very well-written bits of great conversation, and I don’t think I could be more emphatic about recommending this book to everyone.

Added bonus: Anne includes a few pages choked full of recommended readings. ( )

This collection of diverse essays is held together by the author's love of reading and language. In one essay, she humorously discusses the difficultly of 'Marrying Libraries,' in another, bemoans the fact that she can't get away from sexist language without being ungrammatical.

I think one of the reasons I enjoyed these essays was that I could almost relate. I'm not married, but I could imagine the difficulty of arranging a joint library. I don't have her vocabulary, but I too love sesquipedalians (long words). An enjoyable, quick read I plan to revisit regularly. ( )

I enjoyed this but have to confess it wasn't as gripping as I thought it would be - it had more gentle attractions. I must say that it gave me a bit of an inferiority complex as although I'm an avid reader, my shelves are sparse when it comes to 'quality'! Anyone who thinks they are from a book-loving family should read Anne Fadiman's account of what a *real* family of book-lovers looks like! ( )