My living room has a very handy built-in bookshelf (although the amount of different compartments meant it took a long time when I moved in to paint over the old nicotine-stained paint). The majority of my books live on the bigger bookshelves in my bedroom, but the living room houses the Shame Pile.
As at the time of writing we are in the middle of a pandemic, and I now have to stay completely indoors for 7 days due to swollen tonsils, the Shame Pile comes into its own (along with the Digital Shame Pile on my Kobo e-reader) The Shame Pile houses the books that Italo Calvino might call Books You Have Not Yet Quite Got Round to Reading. Hoarding unread books is a common and (probably?) forgivable vice. The big multi-floor branch of Foyles on Charing Cross Road in London is a particularly dangerous place to walk past.