Toilet books

I am of the opinion that a toilet should have a varied and appropriate selection of reading material.

Lighthearted poetry. Some prose. Nothing too invasive or tense.

Non-fiction is good if it’s well written. Joan Didion, yes. David Foster Wallace, no. Too angsty, may cause blockage.

Philosophy is an optional addition. If you are into that sort of thing.

Short fiction may work well. Lydia Davis is particularly good for brief lavatorial escapes. Raymond Carver.

Yes. Many American authors are ideal for toilet reading.

A book of cold hard facts about ducks or mushrooms or trees is always good. A magazine, not too opinionated, may work, but should be rotated regularly.

Short fiction, yes. But no novels or religious texts, that would be impolite.

It is a fine compliment to pay any author to place their book on the pedestal that is your toilet. I currently rotate among four of Billy Collins's poetry collections. Plato’s Symposium & Phaedrus. Joan Didion’s White Album. A book on identifying mushrooms. And a book of Oscar Wilde quotes my father gave me for Christmas last year, in case he comes over.

The issue of hygiene can be solved by the honour system of one-handed reading, other-handed wiping. But it’s not foolproof. And it may be gross. But the grossness fails to outweigh, at least to me, the entertainment value of having something to read.

It seems to me less gross than a cellphone you will later hold to your ear.

But then, who calls anyone anymore these days?