I came across what was no longer there, and thought—Burning books isn’t so terrible. What is a far worse fate for books, what really transforms them into grave casualties: apathy.

   Indifference and neglect of books is a much more ruthless and effective murderer than burning. Book burning being an act of violence and vehemence, yet because it is an act, therefore action, it continues to generate energy on behalf of books. Apathy equates to no energy going toward books, it is the perpetrating inaction of void, and that is when you see books die truly tragic deaths. Forgotten, rinds of waste in an eyeless vacuum, the print fades from pages and memories, the pages disappear into thin air.

   A book burned is a book considered. Yes, considered with violence, vehemence, disgust, and other base human qualities, but nonetheless considered. To burn a book is to give new life to the book for the world’s word stewards and literary caretakers. Those who are against always give heated rise, in organic counterpoint, to those that are for. But a book ignored, a book disregarded, therein lies true tragedy.

   I sometimes wish there was still a contingent of people burning books, that books as a collective qualified as precious objects and storehouses of wisdom worth burning, but there are no more books, only ghosts of books, hauntless in their lingering and impact.