I came across a great passage in one of Alberto Manugel’s essays in A Reader on Reading. The essay is “Candide in Sanssoucci” and here is the passage:

Not surprisingly, the verb cultiver retains in French these two meanings: that of growing a garden and that of becoming learned. The tending of one’s garden and the tending of one’s books require, in the sense of the word cultiver, equal devotion, patience, persistence, and a serviceable sense of order. Cultiver is to seek the truth hidden in the apparent chaos of nature or a library, and to render visible its attendant qualities. Furthermore, in both cases, truth is subject to review. Gardener and reader must both be willing to shift purpose according to the exterior or interior weather, to yield to the consequences of new discoveries, to recognize, redistribute, reconsider, redefine, according not to overwhelming absolutist notions but to individual and quotidian experience.

After this passage, “weeding” my books takes on a more expansive meaning. How is your book garden growing? And what sorts of things grow there? I think I am managing fairly well a balanced ecosystem that includes the humble dandelion as well as the mighty oak, exotics and natives, sun lovers and shade dwellers. All have a place, though some occupy more space than others, but that’s what “real” gardens are like too.