Sometimes I write about reading, and sometimes I read about writing, and sometimes I write about writing. And I just finished reading C.S. Lewis’s The Reading Life, so now it seems that I also read about reading. This book was a fitting selection, since I have been reading a lot lately, even more than usual. I’m in the middle of writing several different book essays right now. I hesitate to call them reviews; first of all, because I seldom read anything brand-new; and secondly, because I am not very good at figuring out why I do or don’t like a book, and “it was great; you should totally read it” is not compelling criticism.
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One thing I don’t write very much about is work, because I like work and I want to keep doing it, and writing about your job on the Internet is a good way to lose it. All I will say is that when I click on the “share” button in a presentation that’s saved on SharePoint, and I see no fewer than three people trying to edit it at the same time as I’m trying to edit it, then we might have a case of too many cooks, know what I mean? And that is all I have to say about that.
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But back to my book-reading. I also just finished Hyperbole and a Half, ten years after everyone else finished it; and This is My Life, almost 30 years after Nora Ephron directed the movie adaptation. I loved both of these books, for entirely different reasons, and I’ll tell you why at another time, as soon as I finish writing my half-baked essays about them.
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In The Reading Life, C.S. Lewis lists four characteristics of true readers. They are:
- Loves to re-read books
- Highly values reading as an activity (vs. as a last resort)
- Lists the reading of particular books as a life-changing experience
- Continuously reflects and recalls what one has read
Check, check, check, and check.
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You know what? It’s September, ¾ of the way through the reading year, and I haven’t re-read a single book this year. But I did read all of Helene Hanff’s books, and Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall trilogy and I expect to read all of them again. Right now, I’m reading Giving Up the Ghost, Hilary Mantel’s memoir. It reminds me very much of Curriculum Vitae, Muriel Spark’s autobiography. This is very high praise. Sadly, there won’t be any new Helene Hanff or Muriel Spark books; but Hilary Mantel is still living, and even though she’s finished with Thomas Cromwell and Henry VIII, that doesn’t mean that she’s finished writing. At least I hope not.
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Thanks to the never-ending pandemic (2022? Really, Dr. Fauci? REALLY?), I still don't get out much. But I’m living the reading life and the writing-about-almost-everything (except work) life. It’s a pretty good life. God willing, I’ll get to keep writing more words and reading more books. And maybe I'll have a party in two years, give or take.
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