Bibliophile, Party of One
Saturday, April 15, 2017
A few weeks ago someone asked me why I love books so much. I fumbled something out about it being a way to unwind at the end of the day, but there's really so much more to it.
Firstly, some of my earliest memories involve books. My mother used to read to me as a child all the time. After church? Book time. Before bed? Books. Waiting at the doctor's office? More books. It was our thing. I also remember tumbling into my parents' room waaay past my bedtime and finding my mother with her light still on reading the latest Anne Perry novel. And I love that about her. So I suppose there's a lot of nostalgia wrapped in books. They connect me back to childhood and they certainly connect me to my mother. In fact, I come from a long line of readers staying up past bedtimes. It's in my blood.
Secondly, I love the way books become a part of me. I tend to read a lot of very long books: Les Mis, War & Peace, and The Count of Monte Cristo have all had places on my nightstand before. I love the way that long books become like friends. I end up spending so much time with these titles that they become a part of my life in a lot of ways. When I'm not reading them, I'm thinking about them and the characters they've introduced me to. And when I finally finish a behemoth of a book, part of me is really sad that I'm saying goodbye to a friend.
Thirdly, I love the way books transform me. Books provide a unique opportunity to get into someone else's head. I've recently spent a lot of time reading the apologetic works of C.S. Lewis. In a sense, I've been spending Sunday afternoon with Clive Staples, as I've gotten into the habit of calling of him. These reading sessions have completely changed the way I look at a lot of things. I have been able to spend sometime outside of myself and look through someone else's eyes, which is pretty incredible.
I could go on and on about the merits of books. I feel like libraries are hallowed ground and bookstores are treasure chests. At the end of the day, there's just this thing about books and it's hard to articulate. Which, when you think about it, is pretty ironic.
Hi Angela,
ReplyDeleteI'm a Clive admirer, too!
Rayna