I wonder what I would choose if I had the choice between being a good reader or being a good writer. Would I caress or be caressed? Would I rather be remembered as a man bent over a book or a man scribbling in a notebook?

The way Calvino writes about the charms and mystery of reading seduces me. I cannot imagine anyone doing it better than him. Why write when one can be the reader of texts written by people of genius? I don’t mean not write at all. It is alright to jot a postcard or letter even when one has nothing to say. At least you show you care when you do it. The caress is rough and crude, but sometimes that suffices if one does not take it too seriously.

I keep reflecting on the reading experience lately. Maybe, it is because I am reading V who seduces me. Ah, her sweet, sweet seduction has ravished me.

Published in: on March 11, 2008 at 12:50 pm  Leave a Comment  

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