Let's pretend this is a hypothetical situation.
Let's say that early last summer someone reading a best-selling novel told you that she intended to give said novel to you once she was done. Let's say the best-selling novel is one that many book bloggers would say is a worthy novel, so that you unsurprisingly said, sure, you'd like to have it. No hurry, though, lot's to read in the meantime.
Let's say that in the fall same someone calls you and asks if you've read the novel. You say no, mention that she'd promised to give her copy to you once she'd done. Oh, she's still reading it, she says, and has thought she'd pass it on to X when done. But it is a wonderful book and she hopes that the birthday money and gift card she's giving could be put to use to buy yourself a copy.
Well, you think it's fine if she wants to give the book to X; X really only reads books that are given to him and you have quite the stockpile. The book in question is still a top seller and you're sure in a year or so you'll be able to pick up a used copy for a song, or pluck it from the library shelves for free, so you spend the money on out-of-print Steads and Women in Love and Felix Holt instead. You are happy.
Then, on Thanksgiving, you're told that she's finished the book, that it is one you ought to read immediately, but that she's giving her copy to Y, who is also at her house for Thanksgiving. She wants to know if you'll buy yourself a copy if she writes you a check. Well, yes, you tell her, but there's this three-month moratorium on purchasing books, so it'll be February before you order it. She's quite concerned about the delay, because this is a book you ought to read immediately, and she wants you to go online and order two copies, one for yourself and one for X so that she can give them to the two of you as Christmas presents. Or maybe she should get a book by John Grisham for X. . . But before she can decide there are distractions and you eventually leave her home without ordering books for her to give to anyone.
Let's say that by now you are developing a little fatigue regarding this book. You were happy at the prospect of receiving it in a casual offhand manner, and you were happy to not aquire it at all but to have money for other books instead. But unless this book is chosen as the next Slaves of Golconda selection, you'd rather not be pressured to read it on another's schedule, i.e., immediately, because it's no longer sounding like a gift, but an obligation.
So the hypothetical is, after saying thank you most graciously if/when you unwrap this book Christmas morning, would you:
read it immediately?
shelve it until you feel the whim to read it?
exchange it at the bookstore for, say, the new Ali Smith, and purchase a used copy in a year or two when it shows up at the used bookstore at which time you'll shelve it until you feel the whim to read it?
offer me additional suggestions in comments?
Sherman Alexie cancels book tour for memoir about his mother.
Why is Ben Murphy so happy? Because for once in his life, he's on time. He beat Roger Davis, Steve Kanaly and the moderator to the pan...
Last night I read Julian Barnes' The Sense of an Ending . Yes, the night before it went up against Donald Ray Pollock's The Devil Al...
When I finished Kevin Brockmeier's A Brief History of the Dead last spring I immediately did a search to see if the Coca-Cola Corp. had...