All’s right with
the world, as long
as people read

Just when you think the world has gone to hell in a handbasket, when you feel the end of civilization as we know it is near, when despair about the continuing decline of America is about to overwhelm you, something good happens.

I was going through a pile of articles I'd saved, trying to cull out the old from the really old to make room in the file drawers for the more recent stuff.

This is a tough task for pack-rat information horders who know through experience that shortly after you chuck a 4-year-old report on solar energy use in Israel, you find you need it for some project or another. Always happens.

But the drawers were full. Not one more sheet of paper was going to fit.

Separating the pages into stacks categorized as "definitely chuck," "might-could chuck," and "don't ever chuck" requires careful deliberation, so, of course, I had to read through them, or at least give them a scan.

That's when I came across two pieces that plunged me into gloom. The first was an article from a series The New York Times published in 2003 about how Americans spend their money. The sentence that got me: "Last year, for the first time ever, Americans lost more money in legal gambling than they spent on printed material -- books, magazines and newspapers -- combined."

The second, a report issued in July by the National Endowment for the Arts, dealt another smack. The NEA's survey showed that in 2002, fewer than half of the adults in America, 46.7 percent, had read any literature of any kind -- not a novel, not a play, a short story or a poem. Among those who had, about 21 percent had read only between one and five books through the whole year.

For someone who loves books and whose livelihood depends on people reading, all of this was quite depressing. During my daily conversations with my best friend, I growled about how mindless television shows and kick-and-slash movies and computer games had ruined the world, that the constant electronic stimulus of iPods and vapid blathering on cell phones had suffocated inquiry and observation, how the darkness of ignorance and incuriousity would soon obscure us all.

In other words, I ranted. Then I went to the bookstore where I thought I could soothe myself among the volumes. But unlike hushed libraries, bookstores bustle.

At the magazine racks, young women shuffled through bridal magazines -- a species in profuse supply these days -- while their male counterparts sorted through sports and outdoor issues that covered everything from bow-hunting to bowling.

Older women inspected woodcraft and garden how-tos. One guy leafing through a lace-tatting manual, hiked a shoulder to hide the book's cover, apparently embarrassed to be checking out a subject usually aimed at females.

There were children everywhere, some very young, listen-ing wide-eyed while a middle- aged guy read them stories. Older ones crowded around shelves where illustrated Anime and Manga publications were lined up. They chattered enthusiastically about the ones they'd read and thumbed eagerly through the newest, discussing plots and artistic merits.

Deep in the literature stacks, a boy who looked to be about 10 had seated himself on a skateboard, rocking back and forth as he examined works by Joseph Conrad, a heap of Patrick O'Brian selections on his lap. When his mother called to him, he pleaded for a few more minutes to decide which ones he wanted. Finally, he stood, balanced six of them on his skateboard and went to make his case for getting them all.

Today's techno-tilted universe swirls with many diversions that may take people away from snuggling with a good book. Even so, I seldom see an empty bookstore or a deserted library. I think the NEA's survey is a half-empty kind of view. People may not be reading literature, but they are sure reading lots of other stuff. As to spending on gambling, at least it was legal.