A few years ago, I remember I used to pick up a book and read it to the end. I only had this one rule: you cannot read another book unless you don't finish the one you begin. I stayed true to the rule for so long, but it started to get very complicated when I stumbled upon very long and complex non-fiction books. I've never had any problem with very long novels - such as The Count of Monte Cristo or The Miserables - but the story's different when it comes to long and tough essays.

That's when I started abandoning books. I felt guilty at first: I was basically saying the book I picked up was not interesting, and I thought it was my fault if I wasn't able to finish it. But then I realized that's a very common thing to do among readers. I remember this one interview in which historian and writer Yuval Noah Harari was asked about the criteria he uses to select his next reading, and he ended up saying that reading a book means giving a chance not only to the book itself, but to the author as well. If the author isn't able to grab your attention in, let's say, a couple hundred pages at most, you're enabled to give it up. Time is a limited resource, so it really makes no sense to keep on spending time and attention to a 1000 pages book if after page 274 you don't enjoy it anymore. Unless it's a matter of study, of course.

So, I only had to wash away the sense of guilty about my unfinished books list. Easy to say. To this day, I still have that section in my library, and I still take a look at it sometimes. Should I take back one of those books and finish it? I remember the case of Anna Karenina: I read 350 pages, but then wasn't able to finish it. It was a great and fascinating book though, and I really can't say why I gave up reading the book. But I'm afraid by the idea of trying to read it again. In that case, how should I act? Start again from page 350, or get back to page 1? Let's say I follow the first possibility and finish the book, even though I don't remember those 350 pages very well: after I've finished the book, can I still say I've actually read Anna Karenina? Am I not missing anything? Is continuity a fundamental part of enjoyment and understanding when it comes to a literary work? The same goes for any other medium: can I leave a movie at half, and then finish it the next day? This case is even stranger: while books are written to be read during the course of time, movies are not designed to be enjoyed that way, so the authors are asking to watch their work in one go; I cannot simply watch Apocalypse Now until the end of act 1, then leave it and go back finish it after a week. In that case I would miss something, I would miss the point; and worst of all, I would bring pathos and dramatic climax to the ground.

Going back to books, I guess there's no way out: you have to accept the fact that you'll never be able to read everything you want, and that you'll abandon many wonderful books as well before you find out how wonderful they are. Then, who knows? Life is strange and unpredictable, and I do not exclude that I could go back to Anna Karenina and decide to start it from scratch again and enjoy those 350 pages more than I did years ago. There's no shame nor guilt in having a library made of non-read books. I remember one episode told by writer Nassim Nicholas Taleb: he came to visit Umberto Eco's library. Eco is really famous in Italy (but not only here) for his massive library: it is told that is main library contained around 30000 books, while a second one had 14000 books circa. Eco told Taleb that people visiting his house would always ask him: "Professor, did you read all these books?". Of course he didn't. A lifelong reader knows that there's a maximum books you can read during your lifetime, and that number never surpasses about 10000. And of course I'm no Umberto Eco. But the concept of 'anti-library' - a library made also by non-read books - is important to define one person's curiosity and inclination.

So, Anna Karenina, I'm really sorry the spark didn't strike between us. But don't worry, there's always time for a new beginning.