Bookish
By Andy Klimach on Sunday, May 1, 2011 at 6:39pm
Some books will be read a million times by a million different readers, who silently share the moments of joy, laughter and heart break contained within. You meet a book, but never all of its readers. A classic connects you to others all sharing the same point of human nature, of change, of statement. The years may pass, and knowing your grandfather may have read the same words and reacted the same way as you give a sense of wonder, and your place in the past, present and future. Books never die, but the readers do.
What does a book tell about its author? The vision. The conflict. The good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful all wrapped up in one. That part of creativity, unrestrained to redirect the mind, the heart and the soul. When we read these stories, we read about ourselves and question how such a perfect stranger could know us so well. The battle of loneliness when surrounded by others. Challenges to be faced; great loves to be lost. Triumphs and tragedies, undying secrets never revealed. The long, spiraled fall from grace after taking one too many chances when it was already too late. The hate, the jealousy, the rejections. The truth is a book tells us very little about its author-- it tells you about you.
These books become our literary mirrors, and friends for when there are none. Their words console us through the hardships of a misstep, betrayal and unwanted good bye. They give us confidence to swim through the shallows and deeps of both hope and regret. To feel and be felt, to love and to leave.
And of course, we meet a variety of characters along the way. Those to whom we identify, those to whom we need, and those to whom we wish defeat. The protagonist and the villain. You and me. Us and them. They are indeed real, as we see them every day. There are the Captain Ahabs, the Richard Parkers, the Piggys, and even the Snow Whites, Tess of the D'Ubervilles and Joan of Arcs of our own stories, our own private worlds waiting to unfold. We face them daily. They make us stronger, kick us down and villainize our hearts. They tell us stories, stand us up, and keep us charged with a seductive grin. We accept them, chain them, and let them hang. Sometimes we have to. Sometimes they unlatch the lock of what we've been hiding. Sometimes they have to.
The lock on a cage. What cage? The cage we build around ourselves when we don't have stories to read and fill our lives. Sad stories and adventurous stories are still better than no stories. Like a tiger in a cage. It may be dangerous, it may be dying. Maybe it's just depressed. It looks at you, seeing deep inside. It sees your gun, it sees your key. You've got to get close to set it free. Or to fire a shot and end its misery. But you want to touch it. You have the advantage, but once the door swings open your blood could spill, or you could be disappointed as you watch it run away. You didn't confine this Tiger, but you did rattle its cage. The choice is yours to not take a chance, or to face its unpredictability.
We never know the ending. We often just guess. The assumptions we make, the histories we keep. The story ends, we close the book. We live that life, giving, taking and sharing. Your life is a story, and a book to be read through the ages. It is your choice to let it confine you, or to set you free.
