Summer Reading
Wherein Our Heroine
Heeded the Warning Signs.
Books. Yum. Ever since I was a kid, I
have charged through books, rampaging through the pages like a deranged
elephant. My mother used to get irritated with me when I would just about
finish a book coming home from the library, because that meant she would have to
take me back all the sooner. I have always been surrounded by stacks of books -
books I have bought, books I have borrowed, books from the library. I read for
pleasure even when I was in law school (many, if not most people who go to law
school get burned out on having their nose in a book - any book - from the sheer
volume of reading that has to be done for classes. Not so with me). Those who
know my penchant for the written word are not at all surprised that I married a
librarian.
But there is
reading and there is reading. In late spring/early summer, our neighbor (whom I
have often shared literary recommendations with) asked me what I was reading and
I pulled myself up in shock. I
hadn't
been reading. I had been re-reading, and I had been doing it for some time.
For those who read books once
and are done with them, let me explain my love of re-reading. When I re-read a
book, it's like having my favorite meal at my favorite restaurant, wearing a
much loved, cozy old sweater, and hearing a great old song on the radio all at
once. It is soothing - I know what is going to happen, and it gives me a
comforting sense of order in a universe gone mad. Generally speaking, I re-read
in between sprints through new books. It is a way to rest and re-charge my
brain - comfort food for the little grey cells. But re-reading for months on
end is unusual for me. I am not sure I have ever done it as long as I did this
year, and it frightened me a bit. I considered that it was a warning sign of
sorts.
So, I have been at
the library again recently. I have charged through the newest mysteries by some
of my favorite authors, I have started Terry Pratchett's "Discworld" series
(something I have been meaning to do for some time), and I have examined some
modern literature I knew I didn't want to re-read (and therefore did not want to
own). The elephant is back.
I
am reading again, and things are better in the world.
Posted: Tuesday - July 27, 2004 at 08:28 AM
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