It's a bad idea.
I realized the other day that I hadn't actually read a book in a few months. I still do quite a bit of reading online, blogs, news, and online magazines, but those are temporary bites and not a full cohesive meal.
During our weekly trip to the library, this is what I picked out:
Doubt, by Jennifer Michael Hecht (Michael as a woman's middle name?)
Critique of Pure Reason by Immanuel Kant
Jung, A Biography by Gerhard Wehr
The Meanings of Jesus; Two Visions by Marcus Borg and N.T. Wright.
I'm not sure what I was thinking. I must have imagined that I was some dusty, old Englishman holed up in a study overflowing with books, and dominated by a mahogany desk full of important papers with a strategically placed desk light illuminating all that I cared to read.
I am not an Englishman, and I have neither desk, nor desk light.
Never go to the library looking for a good book to read that will stretch your mind.
Or else you'll wind up like me, preparing to run a mental marathon when I'm only in 5K shape.
Plus, it makes you realize what a complete and utter affecting person your are. I mean, who does this? Who so overestimates their mental capacity and commitment to learning that they actually take several minutes to consider what they are picking out to read and thinks to themselves,"Yeah...I can totally do this!"
I do get some sort of credit just for checking them out, right? Like, there must be some sort of mental osmosis of knowledge that come from merely handling books like these and reading the dust jacket, right?