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Showing posts with label Fannie Flagg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fannie Flagg. Show all posts

25 November 2012

Rereading and My Library

I now have over 1000 books, which is not bad, if I consider the financial limitations of the first few years of young marriage and parenthood.  I look forward to acquiring several thousands more.  Amongst them are some I have not read.  I look at them fondly because I know I will someday.  As for the rest, I often reread books.  I can go back to happy places, exciting, dangerous, ancient or imaginary places.  Every time these stories are familiar and new.  I can visit brilliant conversations and enjoy the scenery all over again.

The second and third readings are especially delicious because I notice details that were not obvious the first time.  To read a book ten years later is to read a new book.  I am cursed with the memory of endings, unlike BPR, but my view point and experiences in the mean time add fresh twists to the understanding of the book.  There are the books that I reread once a year, these include 'The Lord of the Rings', 'The Book of Tea', 'Pride and Prejudice' and 'Please Don't Eat the Daisies'.  Why I go back I do not know, maybe it is seasonal, or maybe it is because we all have friends and like good friends, we want to see them again.

Sometimes, I read a book again around the time I want to share it with my children.  I did this with Sherlock Holmes before giving the book to my son.  My daughter is reading 'Life of Pi'.  She saw the previews of the film and thought it looked cool.  I gave her the book and this morning she opined that Pi is an idiot.  Last week Pi was clever on account of what he did with his name.  I hope to read the book again once she is done with it.  My children like it when I say "Oh, I read that at your age."  They open up; Ask questions that would be awkward with "I" or "me" in them... Last night, on a long drive home, my daughter and I had a serious conversation about 'The Outsiders' which, I too, had to read in seventh grade.

Familiar books are soothing when I am stressed.  Books are often the cure to a horrible day with a cup of tea.  Jane Austen, Terry Pratchett, Okakura, Isabel Allende, Fannie Flagg, J.K. Rowling, Tolkien, Jean Kerr... I could keep going. I reread all the time while reading new books.  'The City and the City' by China Mieville has been calling recently,  I think it is time to visit that strange place again.

None of this would be possible without my books at home.  Libraries have opening and closing times as well as other patrons.  There is a limit to how many books I can lift in one go or even check out in one go.  Though I must write that those difficult years mentioned before were made bearable by a lovely local library one passage away. I can underline cool bits and stick book markers in different places.  I can enjoy them over and over again.  Some would argue that a tablet is better for my purpose but on a tablet I do not own the book.  I pay for the privilege to read X book on their tablet.  This is a privilege they can take away and per the very small print, they are not obliged to tell me why.  Should my tablet fall in the bath tub, it is apparently, my problem and I have to procure a new one or lose the books,  should the software change radically as happens faster and faster these days, or the new and improved tablet make mine obsolete then I have to go shopping again.  Tablet makers are in the market to sell tablets, not books.  If 'Pride and Prejudice' falls in my bath then all I need is a blow dryer.  The only tablet plus I can think of is that it makes reading easier for my mother when her eyes get tired in the evening; she can opt for bigger letters.

There is the satisfaction of owning books.  I can pick one up on a sleepless night, read my favorite chapter and put it back, no need to check if the batteries are charged.  Books add warmth to a home.  I always notice when there aren't any and I somehow feel suspicious of the inhabitants of said home.  "We have no time to read."  "My wife doesn't like to read."  She does like it when they both watch tv together, if he reads, he is "ignoring" her.  A house without books feels like a hotel room to me... no personality.  Several persons of my acquaintance are not allowed to keep books at home.  If one book comes in another must go out.  It is pointed out that libraries are to keep books.  I have noted that the enforcers of these rules are not readers themselves and only tolerate the time their partners read, if at all. I never had this discussion with BPR.  When he met me, I was surrounded by books.  I could not afford to ship them to Europe, where we eventually settled 17 years ago so I set about buying books to make a home.

Yes, there is time to cook or garden or read or whatever you love to do with and without your family.  If you happen to have a garden at hand or an excellent kitchen, that is all to the good, so why not books at hand to reread?  Books remind me that I never stop learning, even from the same book.  Books leak (the Librarian at Unseen University would agree) knowledge and perspective and often change my life in magical ways because of it.

27 August 2012

'I Still Dream About You' by Fannie Flagg


Too many years ago, I saw a lovely movie titled 'Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe'.  The book was promoted around the same time and so I read it.  Through the years since, I have continued to read Fannie Flagg.  Recently, I hadn't seen anything new though and was getting worried.  Then I spot it while book hunting for a friend.  'I Still Dream About You' is a sweet story about a life worth living and of course, tied to this question, a dream worth pursuing?

Fannie Flagg loves the American South.  All the contradictions, genteel traditions and violence are somehow combined to create a warm and welcoming book.  I  feel I have been acquainted with long lost Alabama relatives.  Her characters become family with all the intimacy and mystery that 'family' implies.  Intimacy, I think, is self explanatory but I will try to explain what I mean by mystery.

When someone is close to me, I become aware of motivations, desires and denials that are alien to me.  In essence, I feel privileged to be shown a new part of a person I love, but as I eagerly look I become aware of other doors left closed. Not because my loved ones are selfish but because that is the nature of humans.  How many of us have acted in ways that are inexplicable even to ourselves?  Loved something or someone without, seemingly, an act of will?  As Woody Allen said "I'm astounded by people who want to 'know' the universe when it's hard enough to find your way around Chinatown."  Well, as a metaphor I feel it works equally well for my own mind and the minds of others.

Ok, I could keep going but I hope you get the idea.  Fannie Flagg is excellent at letting me feel welcome in a home; I get to know new friends and then begin to sense the true mystery that is every individual for good or bad.  I like the sense of depth and roundness this mystery gives her characters.  The fact that a a sense of humor runs right through the middle of it is especially satisfactory.  The better I get to know her characters the more I laugh and the more interesting they become.

'I Still Dream About You' is full of these real people that inspire, confuse, grow and conquer (their own regrets).

Fanny Flag
ISBN: 9781400065936