In his exchange with Francesco, Augustine suggests that we intentionally take the time to set aside certain passages in reading, in order that we may readily access them in order to please our minds. This is something that is almost intuitive for me as a reader, at least in the most basic sense of bending the page I would like to return to. However, over the course of these first roughly 200 pages, Manguel sheds light on the evolution of reading, and how the lime tree of the mind finds its roots much deeper than in just modern day note taking.
We are reminded that reading is interpreted differently under different circumstances. In its earliest form, society found the most constraining, and thus most influential circumstances, to be the mere fact that many, if not most, were illiterate. Over a thousand years later, the most constraining circumstance on the reader may be something as simple as physical comfort. Each of these soils will cultivate a different kind of lime.
When culture was largely illiterate, any distinction of literature was memorized and verbally repeated, due to the fact that literature was only revealed to the masses orally. As culture continued to develop, specifically through religious expression, the masses were given a new way to relate to and understand various stories. Artists began to portray stories through imagery so that all may feel connected, and feel an immediate relation to a story, even without the ability to actually read it.
It strikes me as typical to now discover how unappreciative I am as a reader. While workers used to gather in large groups to hear books read aloud, I often times find myself not taking advantage of the privilege I have been given. I do not have to have someone tell me about a book, draw about a book, or do anything that might serve to stand between the book and the reader. Today a book can be immediately personal, and in a profound, almost spiritual way. Yet without the proper framework, it is easy, at least for me, to deprive books an adequate opportunity to produce the most wonderful of limes in the mind.
After having reading put into historical perspective, I found myself able to better define what it is that delights me about reading. Something about the constant race without any apparent finish line. The unquenchable thirst, and the possessive nature of the act both speak deeply to the desire for truth, or at least the desire for something stable. The great irony is in the fact that to achieve such a goal would ultimately undermine any desire to have it.
Whether bound by meaningful chains such as illiteracy, or shaped by something as seemingly insignificant as the reader's physical position; the simple fact of the matter is that reading is infinitely open to new interpretations, reminding us that literature, much like life, will always be an open book. The response is always larger than the text, which gives me hope that maybe the reader today would recognize the possibility of scattering seeds that may one day provide someone else with a lime.
I love how you describe reading itself; I feel the exact same way. Especially the "constant race without any apparent finish line." That's precisely how I see it, what with an endless supply of books readily accessible today (whether actually good books or not). Not only is it simple for us to get our hands on a new book, it's almost instantaneous due to Nooks and Kindles and their instant downloads. It seems ridiculous that we shouldn't take advantage of such an opportunity, yet so many people don't.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed the construction of your last two paragraphs, especially how you described the reader's desire as one that is ironic. You seem to have a way of conveying a diverse array of quality ideas with a wonderfully concise amount of wording. Overall, I kind of get the feeling that your appetite for reading grew because of this book, and if that is the case I would have to say it had the same effect upon me.
ReplyDeleteLook at that lime metaphor and tell me that's not great. Good stuff, David. I enjoyed your thoughts on how we as readers are, on the whole, unappreciative of the gift we've been given. We are able to read, to remember, and to pass on our gained enjoyment to others.
ReplyDeleteYou talk about reading being immediately personal, which is really a good way of putting it. When we read something today it's not just for water-cooler talk. We read to gain knowledge, insight, and perhaps even just pleasure. Whether what is gained pertains to the outside world, a fictional world, or the world within ourselves, we're still gaining on a personal level and I like to think modern readers can stop taking such a thing for granted.
I understand what you are saying about being an unappreciative reader. For some reason even if I want to read I search for something else to do. For the most part I blame it on all of the reading I had to do in earlier years for classes and such. Now I see that reading is not something to be avoided. It is a part of who we are, and describes more about us than we think to know.
ReplyDeleteAnother great point you put out was that when you read you bend pages to set aside different passages to come back to. I do this too, and for this my sticky tabs take a beating. It's just that when we find such great passages I don't want to lose them later. It's my way to remember. I can't begin to understand how hard it would be to sit there and try to memorize a story, or memorize something knowing that it was just to deliver words to someone else or to keep track of something. That is something that makes my head spin.