Devon Corneal wrote an excellent article called, 'what reading means to me' on www.readbrightly.com that made me think of what reading means to me.
The first book I remember reading all by myself was Noddy; the way I remember it is that because reading was such hard work, Mummy did not insist that I read it (that wouldn't have worked) but left it lying around where she knew I'd eventually pick it up. It was about someone tying the balloon on a basket of eggs that then rained on Toyland - how I loved it and laughed at it! Since then, I've known people leave books around knowing that I wouldn't be able to resist picking them up :) When I was a little girl I thought heaven was an ice cream wallah in the library - specifically the Trivandrum Public Library. When libraries were hard to come by, I would buy second hand books and sell them back after reading them. If I didn't sell them back, and my book shelf would start to bend under the weight of a lot of books, Papa would quietly give them away and strangely I never caught on and even more strangely I wasn't upset when I did. I think that might be because he did not give away the real precious books. When I had to study for my exams, I would buy a good book for myself and leave it on my desk to be read, preferably in a single day, at the end of my last exam. If Mummy would get upset about this, my wonderful brother would talk her into leaving me in peace. I started by trying to read whatever my brother was reading, but remember the first time I picked up something he hadn't particularly recommended and when I loved it, how it felt like I could be my own person - it was also the first time I read an unabridged classic and couldn't really understand why people abridged books in the first place, it was Charles Dickens' Oliver Twist. When I got Years 11 and 12, I realised I was either going to continue reading my books at my normal pace or pass my exams, I couldn't go without reading so I ended up picking two books that would last me the whole time, by reading and re-reading them. These were The Complete Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Jyana Yoga by Swami Vivekananda. At undergrad when friends were difficult to come by, I often had my nose in a book, and looked like someone who could manage quite well without them. When the next exams came I had to read two thirds of the Lord of the Rings while hiding in the toilet, because my brother couldn't understand why I wouldn't stop after Part 1. In fact, I spent a lot of time reading secretly and getting in all sorts of trouble when I would be found. Sometimes I would scare myself and then get into Mummy's bed to feel better. Once I got caught at around 4am reading the last few pages of a john Gresham novel and had to promise that I wouldn't touch another book for the next so many weeks if I could only finish this one before going to bed. The last gift I received from my best friend, who died subsequently due to negligence and greed of a doctor following a fire accident, were two books: A PG Wodehouse and To Kill a Mockingbird. When I moved to Melbourne, I read Harry Potter on the plane and found the Swami Chinmayanda's Commentary on Bhagvad Gita Chapter 18 in my guest bedroom, actually I found all 18 chapters there, but I started with Chapter 18 and only kept re-reading it. It would be many many years before I would be able to start at the start and go past chapter 2. When I was in the middle of my marriage and it wasn't making sense I read Liz Gillbert's Committed and such books; when it ended and left me slightly messed up I picked up (the excellent) Guide to Getting it On by Paul Joannides; when I couldn't understand where my career was going I read Ken Robinson's The Element: How finding your passion changes everything; when my boyfriend broke up with me I read 'Mistakes were made, but not by me' and 'Subluminal: The new unconscious and what it teaches us' - to make some sense of what was happening to me. I have bonded with teenaged brothers over books, when it was difficult to tell each other about what might have been going on in our lives, I've read passages out of the Lord of the Rings and laughed over Terry Pratchet's The Colour Of Magic. I've wanted to read the Russian authors and I wondered if most books need to be read till the end, I have realised some books considerably change your life and there is hardly any that leaves without a mark.
The first book I remember reading all by myself was Noddy; the way I remember it is that because reading was such hard work, Mummy did not insist that I read it (that wouldn't have worked) but left it lying around where she knew I'd eventually pick it up. It was about someone tying the balloon on a basket of eggs that then rained on Toyland - how I loved it and laughed at it! Since then, I've known people leave books around knowing that I wouldn't be able to resist picking them up :) When I was a little girl I thought heaven was an ice cream wallah in the library - specifically the Trivandrum Public Library. When libraries were hard to come by, I would buy second hand books and sell them back after reading them. If I didn't sell them back, and my book shelf would start to bend under the weight of a lot of books, Papa would quietly give them away and strangely I never caught on and even more strangely I wasn't upset when I did. I think that might be because he did not give away the real precious books. When I had to study for my exams, I would buy a good book for myself and leave it on my desk to be read, preferably in a single day, at the end of my last exam. If Mummy would get upset about this, my wonderful brother would talk her into leaving me in peace. I started by trying to read whatever my brother was reading, but remember the first time I picked up something he hadn't particularly recommended and when I loved it, how it felt like I could be my own person - it was also the first time I read an unabridged classic and couldn't really understand why people abridged books in the first place, it was Charles Dickens' Oliver Twist. When I got Years 11 and 12, I realised I was either going to continue reading my books at my normal pace or pass my exams, I couldn't go without reading so I ended up picking two books that would last me the whole time, by reading and re-reading them. These were The Complete Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Jyana Yoga by Swami Vivekananda. At undergrad when friends were difficult to come by, I often had my nose in a book, and looked like someone who could manage quite well without them. When the next exams came I had to read two thirds of the Lord of the Rings while hiding in the toilet, because my brother couldn't understand why I wouldn't stop after Part 1. In fact, I spent a lot of time reading secretly and getting in all sorts of trouble when I would be found. Sometimes I would scare myself and then get into Mummy's bed to feel better. Once I got caught at around 4am reading the last few pages of a john Gresham novel and had to promise that I wouldn't touch another book for the next so many weeks if I could only finish this one before going to bed. The last gift I received from my best friend, who died subsequently due to negligence and greed of a doctor following a fire accident, were two books: A PG Wodehouse and To Kill a Mockingbird. When I moved to Melbourne, I read Harry Potter on the plane and found the Swami Chinmayanda's Commentary on Bhagvad Gita Chapter 18 in my guest bedroom, actually I found all 18 chapters there, but I started with Chapter 18 and only kept re-reading it. It would be many many years before I would be able to start at the start and go past chapter 2. When I was in the middle of my marriage and it wasn't making sense I read Liz Gillbert's Committed and such books; when it ended and left me slightly messed up I picked up (the excellent) Guide to Getting it On by Paul Joannides; when I couldn't understand where my career was going I read Ken Robinson's The Element: How finding your passion changes everything; when my boyfriend broke up with me I read 'Mistakes were made, but not by me' and 'Subluminal: The new unconscious and what it teaches us' - to make some sense of what was happening to me. I have bonded with teenaged brothers over books, when it was difficult to tell each other about what might have been going on in our lives, I've read passages out of the Lord of the Rings and laughed over Terry Pratchet's The Colour Of Magic. I've wanted to read the Russian authors and I wondered if most books need to be read till the end, I have realised some books considerably change your life and there is hardly any that leaves without a mark.
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