which are changes we make to our most personal spaces to
affect the way we feel when we inhabit them: a scented candle
in the corner, for example, or a pile of artfully placed
decorative pillows on the bed. If you see alphabetized CDs, a
Harvard diploma on the wall, incense on a side table, and
laundry neatly stacked in a hamper, you know certain aspects
about that individual’s personality instantly, in a way that you
may not be able to grasp if all you ever do is spend time with
him or her directly. Anyone who has ever scanned the
bookshelves of a new girlfriend or boyfriend — or peeked
inside his or her medicine cabinet — understands this implicitly:
you can learn as much — or more — from one glance at a
private space as you can from hours of exposure to a public
face.
Just as important, though, is the information you don’t have
when you look through someone’s belongings. What you avoid
when you don’t meet someone face-to-face are all the confusing
and complicated and ultimately irrelevant pieces of information
that can serve to screw up your judgment. Most of us have
difficulty believing that a 275-pound football lineman could
have a lively and discerning intellect. We just can’t get past the
stereotype of the dumb jock. But if all we saw of that person