I have been thinking about books lately. Not just books, but the art of reading, how we approach reading, what we hope to gain from reading. These are the things that keep me up at night: books, global warming, and how people have chosen to make their political/social views known by eating chicken sandwiches.
"When you read a book as a child, it becomes a part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your whole life does."
When I was learning to read, I used to sit on a stool next to my mom while she sewed. I remember looking up into her sewing light and asking her what words meant. She patiently explained words to me, I remember admiring her wisdom (still do). I spent hours sitting under the desk in our bedroom with a blanket and a book completely engulfed in Jules Verne, Harry Potter or Tom Sawyer. I devoured books.
Reading led me to an English degree, which has in turn led me to an egocentric opinion on all things literary. I have had a rather conceited opinion about what people read. In fact, I have spent a few weeks brooding over how ridiculous this whole 50 Shades of Grey obsession is when there are books like Wuthering Heights which should fill the public's need for a scandalous and complicated romance.
However, as I write this blog, I have realised that we all read for our own purpose, some read for self-help, some read to find faith, some read to be transported to fantastical worlds, and some read for pure nostalgia. Reading is a personal hobby, it is an investment in yourself and if you chose to invest yourself in 50 Shades of Grey, who am I to judge you. So, good for you, for all of you who find yourselves reading a book, any book. I am glad you are reading and I will even attempt to withhold my condescending looks and urge to dry heave when you tell me how wonderfully complex Christian Grey is.
