books

Books should have a profound effect upon their readers. One may not effect me the way that it effects you, but they should have an effect on someone, somewhere nonetheless. I listened to a podcast about the different ways that books have changed people's lives. Listening to it, I couldn't help but reminisce about reading Kate Chopin's The Awakening. That book effected me profoundly. Others have certainly had their effects, but that one in particular set me to action.

While reading Light in August (by William Faulkner) tonight, a few sentences were in accord with my general pattern of thought... As follows:

"One wall of the study is lined with books. He pauses before them, seeking, until he finds the one which he wants. It is Tennyson. It is dogeared. He has had it ever since the seminary. He sits beneath the lamp and opens it. It does not take long. Soon the fine galloping language, the gutless swooning full of sapless trees and dehydrated lusts begins to swim smooth and swift and peaceful. It is better than praying without having to bother to think aloud. It is like listening in a cathedral to a eunuch chanting in a language which he does not even need to not understand."

Tennyson may not have such an effect on you; he doesn't have quite that effect on me, but there are poets who do have that sort of effect. Faulkner has that sort of power with his words, and at one time Kate Chopin evoked a physical response. My favorite books do just that, evoke a feeling, an actual physical reaction, be it good or bad. The words linger in my mind and soul for days and years. That sensation buries itself somewhere within me, bringing itself to the surface at inopportune moments of perfect timing. The reaction is what I pine for, and when that is achieved...