The Hope of an Unread Book
In their song, Dangling Conversations, Simon and Garfunkel have this line:
And you read your Emily Dickinson
And I my Robert Frost
And we note our place with book markers
That measure what we've lost
There is value in the unread book. There is inherent hope in what might be discovered or learned. While not yet read a book still holds the possibility of being great, of changing you for the better, of lifting your imagination to new heights. The moment you crack the cover and begin to read, that hope starts to diminish. Each turned paged marks a small loss.
More often than not, the book will not be great, maybe good or entertaining, or a complete disappointment, but not great. And the hope dies or goes to sleep. Even if the book is great and feels like the discovery of a treasure, once read it becomes a known thing and hope disappears.
With every book read something is lost. Should we just give up on reading then? Avoiding the continued bashing and splatter of hope? No. We read on! Always on the prowl for that next novel to anticipate, to revel in the adventure that unfolds, to imagine another world and place different from where we are.
As scout says in To Kill a Mockingbird, “Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing.” I read because I must. To stop in the collection of stories and the vicarious living of others, is to stop existence itself.
And you read your Emily Dickinson
And I my Robert Frost
And we note our place with book markers
That measure what we've lost
There is value in the unread book. There is inherent hope in what might be discovered or learned. While not yet read a book still holds the possibility of being great, of changing you for the better, of lifting your imagination to new heights. The moment you crack the cover and begin to read, that hope starts to diminish. Each turned paged marks a small loss.
More often than not, the book will not be great, maybe good or entertaining, or a complete disappointment, but not great. And the hope dies or goes to sleep. Even if the book is great and feels like the discovery of a treasure, once read it becomes a known thing and hope disappears.
With every book read something is lost. Should we just give up on reading then? Avoiding the continued bashing and splatter of hope? No. We read on! Always on the prowl for that next novel to anticipate, to revel in the adventure that unfolds, to imagine another world and place different from where we are.
As scout says in To Kill a Mockingbird, “Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing.” I read because I must. To stop in the collection of stories and the vicarious living of others, is to stop existence itself.
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