A library can sometimes function as a kind of calendar. Like a Gothic cathedral, libraries are always greater than the sum of their parts; and so it is probably safe to say that they can be many things. Traditionally in Japan, for example, reading and bookshop displays were at times tied to seasonal events; poetry anthologies were always traditionally organized by season and sharing a summer poem in the fall, for example, could be considered as being in less than the best taste. The book-loving Japanese even have a season set aside when reading is said to be the most enjoyable.
秋の読書 "Autumn is for reading..."
I miss that.
And so with joy, we have included an Icelandic cultural import into our holiday seasonal calendar of events. The "Yule Book Flood."
What is jólabókaflóð? Jólabókaflóð, or “Yule Book Flood,” originated during World War II when foreign imports were restricted, but paper was cheap. Iceland’s population was not large enough to support a year-round publishing industry, so book publishers flooded the market with new titles in the final weeks of the year. While giving books is not unique to Iceland, the tradition of exchanging books on Christmas Eve and then spending the evening reading, is becoming a cultural phenomenon. In recent years the meme has spread on social media, and bookworms around the world are cottoning on to the idea. If you’re wondering how to pronounce jólabókaflóð, the phonetic pronunciation is yo-la-bok-a-flot--
But at our house, we just call it the "book-in-fluggin."
The above quote if from the read it forward site and the author humorously (but quite accurately) contrasts the quiet custom of exchanging books on Christmas eve to signal the coming of Christmas to our situation in the US:
Here in the United States, the beginning of the holiday season is signaled by the unceremonious swapping of Halloween candy for holiday decorations in grocery store aisles around the country on November 1st. Only by the grace of God will you not hear Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas” before Thanksgiving.
There is a wonderful quote by Italo Calvino that I have always loved.
“The inferno of the living is not something that will be; if there is one, it is what is already here, the inferno where we live every day, that we form by being together. There are two ways to escape suffering it. The first is easy for many: accept the inferno and become such a part of it that you can no longer see it. The second is risky and demands constant vigilance and apprehension: seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of inferno, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space.”
And so we push back against the consumer coopting of the holidays. First, by taking Advent back-- setting it aside as a time to light candles and enjoy a lot of quiet evenings reading (and waiting) by the fire. We try not to get the tree till the end of advent and really try not to get pulled into all the frenzied hyper consumerism that has become Christmas in the United States. My absolute favorite tradition these days is the borrowed custom of the Yule Book Flood. Thank you Iceland! I have a beautiful jólabókaflóð basket that I put out at the start of Advent (when I put the Advent wreath out and the candles) and we wait and watch the basket fill up with books!
Now, that is magic!!!
Picture of Santa and Freeman Dyson inspired by my bibliophile comrade-in-arms AJ
And Wesley the Owl inspired by the wonderful book