Saturday, January 03, 2009
Richard Nixon reading.
In the NYT on Thursday, there was an article about reading--in the home section, I think. It was about how we read with such complete abandon as a child and gradually over the years, we become more critical, more aloof from the story, less swept away by what we read. The writer compared her three daughters' reading styles at age 11, 14 and 17. The eleven year old carries her book around, a finger in the place she's left off and reads lying down, sitting up, whatever. The older two are, in increasing degrees, less enamored.
I remember the feeling of time stopping when I read a book, but it happens rarely now. The last novel I remember experiencing this with was BEL CANTO by Ann Patchett and back in the seventies, THE WORLD ACCORDING TO GARP. Friends tell me they felt this way reading A PRAYER FOR OWEN MEANEY. What about you? Are you still swept away by novels? What was the last novel that took you "far away." Not just a book you loved but a book you LOVED.