Notes Towards the Memoirs of a Book Thief

In Granta, a book thief describes his thieving predilections.

From the story...

And yes, there was something Robin Hood-ish about stealing books from the bookstores of Buenos Aires, the city where I was born and learned to read.

I was the child of upper-middle-class parents. Well-educated and highly regarded in their respective fields. Parents who bought me books for my birthdays and didn’t hesitate to give me money to buy books. But, of course, returning to the Sherwood Forest scenario, my collection was so small and pathetic compared to the ample, well-stocked shelves of bookstores.

And the other day I read that ‘stealing books is the most selfish form of theft’.

I disagree.

Stealing books is actually literature as sport.