Of course, history books tell many stories of book burning, and in every instance, the conflagration of ideas erases something we might have been able to use to further our knowledge of ourselves and our world. Book burning is a relatively common occurrence if one considers censorship of ideas its virtual form. Worse, obviously, is people burning. That’s happened numerous times and happens today. We can think of Giordano Bruno’s murder by fire as an example. Like Nicholas of Autrecourt, Bruno had some unpopular ideas that bumped into the culture du jour.
There is something worrisome in the desire to burn books—and people—for their ideas. And that is the potential in all of us to burn not only the ideas of others, but also our own ideas. What could I mean by that?
It’s taken you years to get where you are mentally. Along the temporal journey you acquired numerous ideas that you probably altered as you encountered new ways of thinking. Just going through the maturation process alone changed you, and in maturing, you look back at what you were quizzically. “Why did I think that? Why did I do that?” But you can’t look back with regret over the ways of thinking that carried you through your “dumb” years. You wouldn’t be who you are without having gone through ideas you now find untenable concepts. You don’t have to burn the “books” of your past. You should keep them for study and reference. They are the context in which you understand any “new book.”
Everyone takes to a book something of his or her past. That’s a reason that you might read a book differently from anyone else, including the author. And, since you were the author of your own “books,” written years ago, you now “read” and interpret them in light of a past that includes their very writing.
Our species has always had book burners and people burners. In many instances, they were “one and the same.” If you have a desire to strike a match, use its light to illuminate, rather than to burn, the "books" of your life.