Whenever I visit the home of a friend or acquaintance, I make a point of looking at two things. One of them is their library. One can learn a great deal about someone simply by checking out the books on their shelves, I’ve found. Are they filled with books on how to make money or sci-fi? Are the crime thrillers written by John Grisham and James Patterson or Capote or Mailer? Sometimes patterns emerge. Biographies of inspirational figures tend to be accompanied by literature on self-improvement. If you find an Ayn Rand novel, almost invariably you’ll find something written by Hayek or on Ronald Reagan. Sometimes it’s the randomness that’s striking. “Say, what are these romances doing next to Kierkegard? And why is Bukowski with Chesterton and C.S. Lewis?” And what if there are no books? Well, maybe that tells a story, too. Some may think of this as snooping, …