Prelude to a Book Review

 

by Pa Rock

Reader

I grew up in a home that didn't value reading.  I don't remember any books in our home, except for three or four volumes of "condensed" books from Reader's Digest that my parents had purchased but (to my knowledge, at least) had never read.   When I began school I started dragging a few books home from the school library or the county Book Mobile.   While I was in elementary school I also purchased the very first book of my own, Louisa May Alcott's "Little Men," from the local Ben Franklin Five-and-Dime store, and I liked it so well that I soon went back and bought a hardback edition of Jack London's "The Call of the Wild," which I also enjoyed immensely.

I think my parents were too focused on making money and "getting ahead" during those post World War II years to set aside any time for something like reading, which they probably saw as non-productive and a waste of time.  I don't recall my mother, who died young at the age of sixty-five, ever sitting down just to read, nor do I ever remember either of my parents reading to my sister and myself.  But as my dad got older, in his seventies and eighties, he did begin reading and formed a fast bond with the Old West stories of Louis L'Amour and Zane Grey.   As Dad made that attachment, it became much easier to find Christmas gifts that he would like!

Possibly as an act of rebellion for growing up in a home without books, I now read - a lot!   Though I have not kept count, I would hazard a guess that I have read a couple of thousand books in my lifetime, and I am always working on reading the next one.   I read as much as I possibly can, and I have always justified that push to finish the next book on a personal theory, or perhaps a philosophy, which I nurture that revolves around the notion that when we leave this plane of existence, all we take with us is what we learned while on earth - so I am trying to pack as much baggage for the trip as possible.  (To my way of thinking, it is not "You are what you eat," but rather, "You are what you mentally absorb.")  Please pass me another book!

But perhaps I have been wrong about that.  Maybe instead of trying to read as much as humanly possible, I was actually, subconsciously, searching for the perfect book.  The one that would sate my ravenous need to consume the printed word.  I say that with a certain amount of confidence because yesterday I finished a book that was so good it left me feeling as though I could forgo reading anything for a few days and just enjoy the feelings that were generated from completing a truly satisfying modern novel.

But then last night I started reading another book.

Maybe there are some habits that become hardened over time, like planks of native oak, and are indestructible.

Tomorrow, in this space, I will review that truly exceptional novel which I have just finished reading, a character-driven, compelling tale which took me on a trip that I will never forget.  If you are up for an adventure, pack a bag, a small one because we will be traveling light, and join me here in the morning.