What a wonderful article. As I get older I too have had some issues with retaining the books that I read, and it can be frustrating and alarming. I went through a stage where I would reread many of my books as much for comfort is anything. You remind me a little bit of myself when you mentioned casually perusing your bookshelves for any kind of structure or order to them. The last year or so I've been making a conscious effort to build my physical library and I've been amassing books that I've loved growing up, books I plan on reading in the future, and even ones that I just found interesting in the moment. Right now they're shelved half hazardly. You might find My collection of Nathaniel Hawthorne sitting next to the complete works of Ambrose Bierce. Or Orlando Furioso next to Westward Ho. Each literary work is a piece of my DNA, like you mentioned. Each has contributed to the sum of my parts. It's good to know there are others that have perceived this in a similar way.
Thanks for reading, Ryan! I'm glad you got something out of this; there were times during the writing when my confidence folded in on itself as I wondered if anyone would, or should, care about my reading — but as your comment shows, the upside of this kind of sharing is a sense of literary camaraderie. The kind of thing about which C. S. Lewis wrote: "The typical expression of opening Friendship would be something like, 'What? You too? I thought I was the only one.'" I'd recommend Susan Hill's book for more of these "What? You too?" moments.
Fascinating! I've particularly enjoyed re-reading classics like Frankenstein and 1984 (which was depressingly relatable) recently because I gleaned so much more from the lines that didn't resonate with me as much upon first reading them.
Lovely image, Matthew, of reading (and remembering) lighting up the darkness of winter. In 'The American Scholar', Emerson talks abut reading as light: “the page of whatever book we read becomes luminous with manifold allusion.” And I’m with you when you say your resolutions always orbit books. Great stuff!
"So there’s value to these resolutions even as I fail them, because a) they keep my reading intentional — I read more of the classics than I would have without that resolution — and b) I win whether the coin comes up heads or tails. I stick to the resolution and succeed, or I fail and learn something about myself."
This is a wise observation, whether it pertains to reading or any resolutions that we make!
I've added Howard's end is on the Landing to my TBR. I'm increasingly interested in re-reading as I age, but there are so many books I want to read that it is hard to prioritize!
Thank you, Katy! It's either wise or pig-headedly optimistic, but either's fine with me! I suppose it's basically stoic in temperament.
I'm with you on the struggle to prioritise reading new and re-reading old. I've found that thinking of it as duty vs pleasure ("I want to read this new book, but I should re-read that other one...") is the wrinkle in my mental rug that I trip over.
It's only when I start re-reading and rediscover the joys of it — the pleasures only available to the re-reader and not the first-time reader — that it stops being a question of will-power. So the hidden catch-22 here is that I have to re-read in order to want to re-read...
Interesting. I have a few I plan on reading again, notably James Jones' trilogy: From Here to Eternity, The Thin Red Line, and Whistle. And I have a few big fat books I've decided I'm not going to read, at least, at least for the next ten years, Infinite Jest for one.
I recently started 'rereading' Narcissus and Goldmund.' As I make my way through that world I realized that either I've never read it before, or I have completely forgotten it. I think the former.
Anyway, as a lifelong reader with a house full of books, I like what you're saying here.
Thanks, Paul! I've had that same experience of "re-reading" something that seems increasingly unfamiliar with every page. In fact, there's a handful of classics ('1984' is one of them) that I've technically read, but I read them when I was young enough that a) I barely remember them now, and b) I was too stupid to get much out of them. Being marginally less stupid these days, I figure I'll read them soon as if for the first time.
Yeah, Matthew, I get it. I may have read x, y, and z… but…
Yeah, your point about reading them when you’re young and ignorant. Versus now. Good one. Because we are different people than we were when we were young. ???
Anyway, that koan… Who was I then? Who am I now? I’m 77 and I find myself wondering about that more and more. About whom and what we were and are. And is there a ‘core,’ the soul, perhaps, that is always the same?
What a wonderful article. As I get older I too have had some issues with retaining the books that I read, and it can be frustrating and alarming. I went through a stage where I would reread many of my books as much for comfort is anything. You remind me a little bit of myself when you mentioned casually perusing your bookshelves for any kind of structure or order to them. The last year or so I've been making a conscious effort to build my physical library and I've been amassing books that I've loved growing up, books I plan on reading in the future, and even ones that I just found interesting in the moment. Right now they're shelved half hazardly. You might find My collection of Nathaniel Hawthorne sitting next to the complete works of Ambrose Bierce. Or Orlando Furioso next to Westward Ho. Each literary work is a piece of my DNA, like you mentioned. Each has contributed to the sum of my parts. It's good to know there are others that have perceived this in a similar way.
Thanks for reading, Ryan! I'm glad you got something out of this; there were times during the writing when my confidence folded in on itself as I wondered if anyone would, or should, care about my reading — but as your comment shows, the upside of this kind of sharing is a sense of literary camaraderie. The kind of thing about which C. S. Lewis wrote: "The typical expression of opening Friendship would be something like, 'What? You too? I thought I was the only one.'" I'd recommend Susan Hill's book for more of these "What? You too?" moments.
Fascinating! I've particularly enjoyed re-reading classics like Frankenstein and 1984 (which was depressingly relatable) recently because I gleaned so much more from the lines that didn't resonate with me as much upon first reading them.
Lovely image, Matthew, of reading (and remembering) lighting up the darkness of winter. In 'The American Scholar', Emerson talks abut reading as light: “the page of whatever book we read becomes luminous with manifold allusion.” And I’m with you when you say your resolutions always orbit books. Great stuff!
Thank you, Michael, for reading and for the great Emerson quote!
"So there’s value to these resolutions even as I fail them, because a) they keep my reading intentional — I read more of the classics than I would have without that resolution — and b) I win whether the coin comes up heads or tails. I stick to the resolution and succeed, or I fail and learn something about myself."
This is a wise observation, whether it pertains to reading or any resolutions that we make!
I've added Howard's end is on the Landing to my TBR. I'm increasingly interested in re-reading as I age, but there are so many books I want to read that it is hard to prioritize!
Thank you, Katy! It's either wise or pig-headedly optimistic, but either's fine with me! I suppose it's basically stoic in temperament.
I'm with you on the struggle to prioritise reading new and re-reading old. I've found that thinking of it as duty vs pleasure ("I want to read this new book, but I should re-read that other one...") is the wrinkle in my mental rug that I trip over.
It's only when I start re-reading and rediscover the joys of it — the pleasures only available to the re-reader and not the first-time reader — that it stops being a question of will-power. So the hidden catch-22 here is that I have to re-read in order to want to re-read...
Interesting. I have a few I plan on reading again, notably James Jones' trilogy: From Here to Eternity, The Thin Red Line, and Whistle. And I have a few big fat books I've decided I'm not going to read, at least, at least for the next ten years, Infinite Jest for one.
I recently started 'rereading' Narcissus and Goldmund.' As I make my way through that world I realized that either I've never read it before, or I have completely forgotten it. I think the former.
Anyway, as a lifelong reader with a house full of books, I like what you're saying here.
Thanks, Paul! I've had that same experience of "re-reading" something that seems increasingly unfamiliar with every page. In fact, there's a handful of classics ('1984' is one of them) that I've technically read, but I read them when I was young enough that a) I barely remember them now, and b) I was too stupid to get much out of them. Being marginally less stupid these days, I figure I'll read them soon as if for the first time.
Yeah, Matthew, I get it. I may have read x, y, and z… but…
Yeah, your point about reading them when you’re young and ignorant. Versus now. Good one. Because we are different people than we were when we were young. ???
Anyway, that koan… Who was I then? Who am I now? I’m 77 and I find myself wondering about that more and more. About whom and what we were and are. And is there a ‘core,’ the soul, perhaps, that is always the same?
Anyway, some good wholesome food for thought.