Wednesday, January 27, 2016

"The pleasantest of all diversions is to sit alone under the lamp, a book spread out before you, and to make friends with people of a distant past you have never known."

So wrote the author of 'Essays in Idleness', a Buddhist priest in the fourteenth century, and I can totally relate to it. We have just one life to satisfy our vast desire to experience things but with the right books we can find out what imaginary strangers have done with their share of this amazing thing called life.

To me a book is not an escape. The story I read in a novel meets, in my mind, the experiences of my own life, and something substantial forms. When I read I am with another person more closely than anyone else. I believe in these characters, yet I also understand thatb they do not exist. I am at once alone and in close company: this is the great gift of a novel, the element that makes reading more than a solitary pastime. I sit within another's person. Far from being an escape from life, reading helps me to live life more deeply.

No comments:

Post a Comment