Number of Books in Parental Library: Key to the Future

Notes from the files of a non-existent psychotherapist…

I noticed from his pedantic handwriting that his background was highly literate. In the spot where he was to list previous occasions of mental troubles he said, “None since I tried to read Finnegans Wake.” He spelled it correctly. In the “occupations” spot he wrote, “Staying away from psychotherapists.”

He complained of a sudden aversion to alcohol that he could not explain. He was normally a moderate drinker, he said, one or two drinks of scotch before dinner, none after dinner, and drinking normal amounts at parties, especially when he was driving, but suddenly the very sight of a bottle triggered severe attacks of nausea, even, on one highly embarrassing occasion, when he was having dinner at an expensive restaurant with a young lady who asked for a harmless little glass of Riesling, vomiting in his napkin.

He didn’t say anything helpful for about fifteen minutes. His tone was quite polite when I asked him about his wife and family and his daily routine. He only became irritable when I tried to find out whether the Riesling lady meant anything to him. He said aggressively “YES – SO WHAT?” And then he got up and said “I’m sorry, doctor, I think I’m wasting my time.”

I was about to let him go – and to ask Elsie not to charge him – when another line of questioning suddenly occurred to me. Had he lately made any surprising discoveries about his mother or father – both of whom, he had said, “were no longer with us”? He was living in their house, he told me, which he had inherited. Yes, he said, as a matter of fact he had made an astounding discovery. He had found out that the books of Victorian novels in his father’s library were fake. When he tried to take one out, he discovered that behind their covers was a well-stocked liquor cabinet.

“And my father had always tried to make me read those novels!” he lamented, close to tears.

“Did he have a drinking problem?” I enquired.

“Oh, not at all. He loved playing games, that’s all.”

I asked him to sit down again, which he did reluctantly.

I prodded further, knowing that I had come near the root of his problem. Was the Riesling lady a reader, I asked. Oh no, she worked in a cosmetics store. Did he have a particular association with any of those novels? No, he had recently seen Oliver Twist on Masterpiece Theater, that was all. Had he read anything that might connect the discovery with a news story he had seen recently?

That was the right question.

Yes, he had, he said, beating himself on the forehead furiously.

“Why didn’t I think of this myself?” he groaned.

He took out his wallet and picked out this clipping:

“Want smart kids? Buy a lot of books, the Chronicle of Higher Education advises. That seems kind of obvious, right? But what’s surprising, according to a new study published in the journal Research in Social Stratification and Mobility is just how strong the correlation between a child’s academic achievement and the number of books his or her parents own. It’s even more important whether the parents went to college or hold white-collar jobs…. The study was conducted over twenty years in 27 countries and surveyed more than 70,000 people. Researchers found that children who grew up in a home with more than 500 books spent three years longer in school than children whose parents who had only a few books…. Even a relatively small number of books can make a difference. A child whose family has only 25 books will, on average, complete two more years of school than a child whose family is sadly bookless.”

“My father was a college professor of English Literature,” the man explained, now fully recovered and full of smiles. “He owned at last five thousand books. I always enjoyed reading but flunked out of college after my first year. And made an excellent living as a plumber ever since. Come and have a drink with me.”

It so happened my next patient was only due in one hour.

I did. We went around the corner to the pub and had two scotches each. My new friend is an excellent plumber. The next day he fixed my leaking kitchen sink and charged me nothing.