Something different comes

I read Pamuk’s novel slowly. I read a chapter, put the book down, and savor what I have just read while doing something else.

I can remember similar reading experiences: the second time I read War and Peace during the late spring of 1971, The Magic Mountain, my first full reading of Swann’s Way, and If on a winter’s night a traveler. The finest books we enjoy must be savored as if they are a delicious sweet or fruit that rarely comes into our possession.

These books I enjoy do not change my life, yet they add something indescribably significant to it as if they were lovers who turn their whole attention upon me for a night before fading from view in the morning. I could have been a person who did not read much; I am glad fate held something different in store for me.

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Published in: on April 3, 2008 at 3:16 pm  Leave a Comment  

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