“The Reading Life – The Joy of Seeing New Worlds through Others’ Eyes” by C. S. Lewis

I love it when I get surprised in a serendipitous way, as if universal forces and my higher self are conspiring. I went to see the latest version of Little Women, and, unlike with previous versions, I kept remembering specific lines of narrative and dialog I loved when I was pre-adolescent and read the book over and over. I remembered scenes that enraptured me back then. I remembered words to the letter Mr. Lawrence sent Beth after she knit slippers for him, and I was disappointed when the screen Mr. Lawrence didn’t include the complete message. I remembered how I hurt for Meg when she acted all fakey at a party. And I teared up, over and over, recalling how much I loved to read, how I wanted to be Jo March, sprawled in an overstuffed chair, devouring apples and books. I wanted that passion back, and I saw how my endless to be done lists and my fretful brain and my dratted phone have claimed way too much of my attention. I wanted to love reading again.

Then — I gave THE READING LIFE as a Christmas gift to my son in law, a C. S. Lewis scholar. A few days later, I saw it lying on a sofa table, picked it up, read the first page, and was such a goner that I asked Todd if it was okay if I just mailed it to him when I finished. He said “Yes, of course!”, and I stayed immersed in the book for the next two days. I’ve not read much C. S. Lewis, and I was absolutely taken by how he thinks and expresses himself. He makes me want to read again, and he makes me want to write in ways that make people want to read. Not only that, he makes me want to try reading fantasy, in particular, works by Tolkien, whom I usually refer to as “not my genre”. Not only that, Lewis makes me want to re-visit the classics, most of which I’ve ignored.

THE READING LIFE is a short book, only 192 pages, but it’s crammed with observations and musings  on appreciating the written word that struck home with me and MADE ME WANT TO READ.  It’s compiled of writings from other C. S. Lewis works, and I resonated with it on both an intellectual and an emotional level.

I am now reading D.H. Lawrence’s LADY CHATTERLEY’S LOVER. I’m surprised at myself. I just love that.

#