Today I stumbled upon a copy of Bertrand Russell’s A History of Western Philosophy on display at the local bookstore. I was walking back home from grocery shopping. I was very glad to find it –I have been looking for it. I first read Russell’s meta-analysis on the greatest thinkers that shaped western civilization when I was in my gap years after high school. I found Russell’s writing full of wit while being razor-sharp in his insights. The man himself embodied the ideals I aspired as a teenager: a level of intellectual humility that comes from doing a herculean job of understanding the minds that make us who we are as a society. He certainly stands alongside Caro as one of my intellectual heroes.
Sadly, I lost my copy when I moved away from home for college. My family did not take good care of my possessions before college. The lack of care to my personal belongings felt like a betrayal of them not believing in me. There are a few things as meaningful and important to me as the books I have read, alongside scale models I have made and the diaries I wrote, and all these were caught in between moving operations, being scattered in unknown places –effectively lost.
So now I am rebuilding that personal library here, fully independent in Philadelphia. Seeing a second-hand copy of A History of Western Philosophy today meant much more today: I can now pay for the things that bring me genuine joy. It is without contest the most meaningful purchase of the year.