Dans ma grande maison transform\u00e9e en biblioth\u00e8que, il ne me reste plus qu\u2019un seul petit coin pour ins\u00e9rer un nouveau livre sur une \u00e9tag\u00e8re. Tous les murs de ma cabane sont placard\u00e9s d\u2019\u00e9tag\u00e8res, un ramassis de succ\u00e8s de librairie que j\u2019\u00e9poussette depuis plus de trente ans. Dans ma verri\u00e8re quatre saisons, j\u2019ai une tr\u00e8s longue table \u00e9troite sur laquelle s\u2019empilent mes r\u00e9centes acquisitions. Et la table d\u00e9borde! Certes, je lis \u00e0 outrance; souvent incapable de s\u00e9parer le bon grain de l\u2019ivraie.<\/p>\n
En ce qui concerne les romans, je ne suis experte de rien. Pourtant, lorsqu\u2019on me conseille un Dany\u00a0Laferri\u00e8re quasi toujours usag\u00e9, je lis la quatri\u00e8me de couverture et je l\u2019ach\u00e8te \u00e0 n\u2019importe quel prix. Je sais, je sais! Je suis une acheteuse compulsive lorsqu\u2019il s\u2019agit de livres. Je suis totalement incapable de r\u00e9sister aux d\u00e9licieux bouquins de po\u00e9sie qui affinent mon esprit. Comme je vis \u00e0 la campagne, chaque semaine, mes promenades tournent autour des bouis-bouis de livres usag\u00e9s, et il y en a tellement dans nos magnifiques Laurentides! Surtout lorsqu\u2019arrive l\u2019\u00e9t\u00e9, et qu\u2019un peu partout, les gens tiennent des ventes de garage et \u00e9talent leur marchandise en plein soleil. J\u2019ai souvent trouv\u00e9 des bijoux de livres tr\u00e8s peu malmen\u00e9s, des classiques, quelquefois m\u00eame des raret\u00e9s \u00e0 peine feuillet\u00e9es.<\/p>\n
J\u2019aime les livres encore plus que la cr\u00e8me glac\u00e9e ou le sucre \u00e0 la cr\u00e8me! Bien s\u00fbr, il m\u2019arrive de craquer pour un titre accrocheur avant m\u00eame d\u2019avoir lu la quatri\u00e8me de couverture. Je crois s\u00e9rieusement que mon amour des livres vire \u00e0 l\u2019obsession. Oui, oui! Je zieute, je reluque, je m\u2019emballe. J\u2019ai grandi, puis v\u00e9cu en manque d\u2019affection, de consid\u00e9ration et, le pire, en manque d\u2019amour. Serait-ce pour cela que je compense aujourd\u2019hui en accumulant toutes sortes de beaux bouquins pour me tenir compagnie? Ces amoncellements de livres comblent certainement un vide existentiel. Chacun d\u2019eux camoufle peut-\u00eatre les barreaux d\u2019une prison imaginaire.<\/p>\n
Comment pourrais-je me lib\u00e9rer de cette d\u00e9pendance compulsive \u00e0 acheter des livres, aussi merveilleux soient-ils?
\nMon pire d\u00e9faut, mon vice, c\u2019est justement d\u2019\u00eatre une acheteuse compulsive qui n'arrive pas \u00e0 s\u2019emp\u00eacher d\u2019acqu\u00e9rir sans cesse de nouveaux ouvrages neufs ou usag\u00e9s que je ne lirai probablement jamais, m\u00eame \u00e0 moiti\u00e9. Il y a les v\u00e9ritables amoureux des bouquins qui les feuillettent avec \u00e9gard, qui conservent quelques-uns de leurs favoris et les mettent \u00e0 l\u2019honneur dans leurs \u00e9tag\u00e8res, un peu comme moi. Et puis il y a la vraie moi, l\u2019acheteuse maniaque qui ne r\u00e9ussit pas \u00e0 arr\u00eater d\u2019acqu\u00e9rir sans cesse de nouveaux ouvrages que, tout probablement, je n\u2019aurai pas le temps de lire. Mon amour des livres s\u2019\u00e9teindra-t-il avec moi?<\/p>\n
Les yeux mouill\u00e9s, j\u2019ai d\u00e9j\u00e0 donn\u00e9 six gros sacs IKEA remplis de mes meilleurs livres de cuisine \u00e0 des organismes municipaux. Comme on m\u2019a chaleureusement remerci\u00e9e, peut-\u00eatre vais-je r\u00e9cidiver avec des classiques et des romans que j\u2019ai presque tous parcourus.
\nComment vais-je m\u2019en sortir? Je n\u2019arriverai jamais \u00e0 tout trier, et les jeter me briserait le c\u0153ur. Pour toutes sortes de raisons, j\u2019aime encore chacun de mes livres et surtout ceux qui m\u2019ont particuli\u00e8rement appris \u00e0 vivre, \u00e0 m\u2019exprimer et \u00e0 \u00e9crire correctement.<\/p>\n
Toutes ces pages qui me parlent, ces histoires invent\u00e9es, ces lettres du dimanche, ces quelques livres publi\u00e9s. Ma vie se r\u00e9sume \u00e0 une accumulation de mots imprim\u00e9s et pr\u00e9cieusement conserv\u00e9s.<\/p>\n
Cora
\n\u2665\ufe0f<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Dans ma grande maison transform\u00e9e en biblioth\u00e8que, il ne me reste plus […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":414,"featured_media":65984,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-65983","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lettre-mme-cora"],"acf":{"img_en":"","contenu_en":"In my big home, transformed into a library, there\u2019s only a small corner left with room on a bookshelf for another book. All the walls are lined with bookcases, a collection of bestsellers I\u2019ve been dusting for over 30\u00a0years. There\u2019s a very long table in my four-season sunroom on which my most recent acquisitions are piling up. And the table is overflowing! I read incessantly, most times unable to separate the good from the bad.\r\n\r\nI\u2019m no expert when it comes to novels. On the other hand, when someone suggests a book by Dany\u00a0Laferri\u00e8re, I read the back cover and buy it regardless of the price, though it\u2019s almost always second-hand. I know, I know! I\u2019m a compulsive buyer when it comes to books. I\u2019m totally unable to resist delicious poetry volumes that enrich my mind. Since I live in the country, my weekly trips revolve around second-hand bookstores, and there are so many in our beautiful Laurentians! Especially in the summertime when people everywhere hold yard sales and lay out their merchandise in the sun. I\u2019ve often gotten my hands on incredible finds that were in good condition, some classics and even a few rarities whose pages had barely been touched.\r\n\r\nI love books even more than I love ice cream or fudge! Of course, I sometimes fall for a gripping title before I even read the back cover. I seriously think my love of books is turning into an obsession. Really! I glance, I gaze, I get carried away. I grew up and then lived without affection, attention and, worse, even love. Am I compensating today by accumulating so many great books to keep me company? These piles of books certainly fill an existential void. Each one perhaps camouflaging the bars of an imaginary prison.\r\n\r\nHow can I free myself from this compulsive obsession to buy books, no matter how amazing they are? It\u2019s my worst flaw, my vice: being a compulsive buyer who can\u2019t stop herself from constantly buying new or used books I will probably never read, not even partially. There are some true book lovers who leaf through them with respect, keep a few of their favourite ones and display them like trophies on their shelves, a bit like me. And then there\u2019s the real me, the maniac shopper who can\u2019t resist buying new works that I most likely will never have time to read. Will my love of books die with me?\r\n\r\nWith tears in my eyes, I\u2019ve already given away six large IKEA bags filled with my best cookbooks to municipal organizations. I was warmly thanked for it; maybe I should do the same for some of the classics and novels I\u2019ve pretty much all read. How will I manage? I\u2019ll never be able to sort through them all, and discarding them would break my heart. For all kinds of reasons, I love each one of my books \u2013 especially those that\u2019ve taught me how to live, express myself and write properly.\r\n\r\nAll these pages that speak to me, the invented stories, the Sunday letters and a few published books. My life can be summed up as an accumulation of printed words, carefully preserved.\r\n\r\nCora\r\n\u2665\ufe0f"},"yoast_head":"\n