Studying With Vanilla

I am a dedicated bookworm. I love to read books. Every morning, I read at least one chapter of a book, and I’ve been doing this for the better part of a few years now. While a certain Mr. Earl Nightingale claimed that to study an hour a day a specific topic would make you an expert in that topic in a short few years, my focus in reading books has always been about understanding.

I want to understand economics and how I can use economics to understand people, their choices, the markets, and so on. So I read a lot of economic books. I also study philosophy, mainly because many of the economics books I read include philosophical works and philosophers. And on occasion, I delve into books with specific political views, from communitarians to libertarians and classical liberals. I read all these books because this is how I want to understand the world.

In any case, I posted on Facebook a question asking folks if they preferred reading the old-fashioned way with books, or if they preferred e-readers such as Kindle and iPads. Overwhelming, the response I received was most people preferred books, and the reasons were essentially unanimous: folks like the way the books feel in their hands and the way the pages rustle when you turn ‘em. But what few mentioned was the way the books smell.

When it rains here in Manitou Springs, a small and scenic mountain town west of Colorado Springs, the area smells so heavenly divine. It is the same as walking in a forest right after a light rain. And it is all because of petrichor, which you can Google.

But books?

It was a few weeks ago that I ordered and received a book from the American Institute for Economic Research (AIER), titled, Useful Procedures of Inquiry, last copyrighted in 1973. As you can imagine, the book is quite old; upon freeing it from its shipping cardboard wrappage, I instantly smelled something and deeply inhaled before exhaling. This is when I really love old books.

I got to checking out why books smell, especially the older ones, and evidently, books contain volatile organic compounds that, over time, degrade and release certain chemicals, and in the process, emit certain smells. My book arrived smelling like it came straight out of a public library by a librarian wearing vanilla perfume.

At least for me, I believe I retain information a bit better when I read from a book. While I often read political, economic, and philosophical works online with my laptop, I much prefer to read books when possible. But the interesting thing about e-readers is that they are quite convenient. No need to tote multiple books with you like I do each morning. Going on a trip? A Kindle on your phone could be more convenient than toting along any of Hayek’s economic books.

Convenience is nice. I am resistant to using e-readers for lots of reasons, the main one being my love of books and their pages, and yes, even the various smells books can give off. I suspect that, for me, anyway, whenever I recall something from the newly-arrived Inquiry book, I will also remember smelling vanilla. Perhaps this way, I may retain the information more easily, conveniently, and accurately.

One thing I didn’t get around to, probably because it doesn’t exist in my world, are audiobooks. I know folks who drive long distances and prefer to listen to audiobooks while they drive. That sounds pretty scary to me. But, as one person noted on my Facebook post, for folks who may have visual difficulties, audiobooks are a great solution.

Anyway, among the books I have at home include some that were printed in the very early 1900s, and in many of them, certain smells waft whenever you open them. For me, that’s the essence of a book: what it contains, how the words play, and also, how it smells.

But that’s just me. I love reading. I love books. And I am especially loving this Inquiry book. Already in the first chapter, so much information has been revealed.

Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go back to smelling vanilla.