I think it is understandable that the professor is so attached to his home and the objects that surrounded him in his attic. When my family and I were moving out of our apartment, I remember feeling really excited to throw away the junk that no one touched for years. Oddly enough, whenever I went to throw something away I found myself packing it again to take with me. It took me months to build the strength to finally get rid of those things after we’d settled down. I tend to get nostalgic for confined spaces and the things in them, so I can relate with the professor.
I imagine the professor’s house as a colonial-style home with its box-like structure and narrow front porch. I think his study would feel small with the singular window being the only source of light in the space. Reading the description of the attic made me think about all the movies I’ve seen set in time periods when people wrote using ink and quill. I can see the professor hunched over his desk, having a hard time deciphering his writing in the dim-lit space. Everything about the attic feels older fashioned and comfortable.