After being laid up much of the past eight days or so with a severe cold/bronchial infection, I finally had the opportunity to go trade in more of my books (and about three dozen of my dad's that he gave to me in order to clear his own shelves) for books to purchase for my students, for class sets, and a few for my own.
Some of these books were good, yet not the sort that I'd need (or want) to re-read a second time, a few more were merely mediocre, a couple were distinctly full of suckitude (like the Huso), and three were never read due to lack of interest.
Perhaps a few of you might be reading this and wonder to yourselves, "How could he get rid of _____? That's a very good book!", but then again, compare that to the books that I did buy for myself with the store credit received from these books and from the $71 I had left over from three weeks ago:
Bilingual Greek and Latin editions of two early historians, a translation of a famous medieval German poem, Zweig in Italian translation, and two very old editions of two Twain novels that I have yet to read.
Then there's Schiller in the original German, Parzival in the original German, Rousseau in French, Calvino in Italian, a couple more Italian writers, all of which is worth more to me now than recently-published work that is much more likely to end up remaindered than being remembered two years from now. And then there are three earlier purchases: two Easton Press editions and the unexpurgated first volume of Twain's autobiography. Guess I'm gearing up for a Twain reading session in the coming weeks, much of it dealing with his lesser-known works.