Tuesday, November 20, 2018

A Great Reason to Re-Read Novels



I'm a big fan of re-reading excellent books, although it seems counter-intuitive to my sudden urge to just get through as many as possible. I've finally reached an age in which I realise I'm not ever going to be able to finish as many books as I'd like to. When I was younger (and not even that much younger), I had the illusion that there would always be ample time to read every book that sparked my interest. Not anymore. I'm now aware that my remaining days on earth will be too short to squeeze them all in.

A small part of the change might be knowing I've reached what people consider middle age, and balancing that awareness against the size of some of the books on my to-read list, and also the steady stream of recommendations I see every day from bloggers and instagrammers. But the large part is because my dear Dad died not so long ago, and I can still clearly remember those days when I was young and he was my age. It brings the idea of mortality far closer to home. Even though I hope there will still be decades to read books, my reading time is definitely limited.

But instead of letting that put me in a hurry to buzz from book to book, I'm going to keep making time to re-read at least sections of really good ones. Re-reading books has never failed to impress me with extra insights I always missed the first time through. I believe a normal person just can't take away all the good stuff in just one read. So if you're going to bother reading a good book at all, you owe it to yourself to read it at least once more.

Here's my recent example of how it works. Last month I read A Tree Grows in Brooklyn for the first time, and soaked in every moment, including the time the Nolan kids lost their beloved father Johnny. In one poignant scene, the new widow Katie sends her two children out for some fresh air at night, and they see several reminders of their dad. Francie and Neeley end up sitting together by the roadside and crying until their tears are spent. I shared their pain on a personal level, although Johnny Nolan was much younger than my dad, and I'm a lot older than Francie and Neeley were.

They recover, as we do, and in the last few pages of the novel is a seemingly random incident. Francie Nolan is 17 years old and soon to leave home for college. One evening her brother Neeley runs cheerfully upstairs looking for a clean shirt because he's in a hurry. Francie says there's one washed but not ironed, so she sets up the board to help him out. After a bit of banter with her handsome brother, she watches him dash outside again. It's a sweet way to end the book, but I thought nothing of it.

Okay, so when I was planning a review, I thought I'd leaf back to the start to get some fresh ideas. And in the first few pages is another incident I'd forgotten by the time I reached the end. Francie is 11, and her bright and dashing father Johnny runs upstairs looking for his waiter's apron, because he has an unexpected job. She tells him there's one clean but not ironed, and sets up the board to be a good helper. After some hurried, affectionate chatter, she watches him leave and waves goodbye.

Wow, there were such obvious parallels between those two scenes, including how careful Francie was to press around their union badges. The author, Betty Smith, was giving us a really subtle way of seeing one of her best themes. (Well, I admit it's not so subtle in retrospect, or for anyone more on the ball than I was.) She's surely suggesting that although the thread that connects all things may seem tenuous, weak or completely snapped, it's really extremely strong. Having the bulk of the story sandwiched between those two incidents is probably her way of suggesting that there are always traces of our departed loved ones to be found when we search with open eyes; whether it's in the form of memories, belongings, or the DNA of other family members. When Francie thinks, 'Neeley is just like Papa,' she probably remembered that earlier incident which I forgot, even though it was seven years of real time for Francie and just a week or two for me.

That was so meaningful to me I shed a tear or two, and started looking for similar parallels from the life of my dad in the presence of my children. It's a really comforting thought, and one which I wouldn't have got if I hadn't flipped back to the beginning of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn to read the first few chapters. I won't stop re-reading books, because I want to always pick up on other great reinforcing moments. 

6 comments:

  1. I love rereading. I can't imagine not rereading books.

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    1. Hi Becky, yeah, not only does it show up parts we glossed over, but reveals ourselves as we used to be 😆

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  2. Yes, definitely!

    Just like you...it occurred to me that I will never read all the books I want to; but how much richer it is to reread all the books I long for, especially because I know I will pick up on something new, as well as having it reinforce ideas I learned the first time. And as we get older, rereading meaningful books are like visiting with old friends from long ago. : )


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    1. Hi Ruth, quantity over quality does seem superficial, especially when it comes to reading. I love that feeling of revisiting old book friends, which spark memories of where we were back then as well as opening new insights.

      And at the same time, there's something good about knowing we have a TBR list we'll probably never get through 😊

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  3. I used to be a CHRONIC re-reader! There were a few years there where I just recycled through the same dozen or so favourites over and over again. I know those books so intimately now, and find them extremely comforting (like a literature blankie!), but I'm equally glad I broke out of that cycle; I guess it's the same old tired advice, too much of anything is no good, we need balance etc etc. Still, I can DEFINITELY see the value in a re-read; I'm always surprised/sad when someone says snootily that they "don't re-read books". I feel like you're probably not "done" with a great book, really, unless you've at least looked it over again...

    Also, I feel like I can tell within the first few pages whether a book is going to be one I want to re-read, I don't know how or why! Recent examples: My Brilliant Friend, Crime and Punishment, We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves, Wuthering Heights... I just KNOW I'll reach for them again at some point. Is it just me?

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    1. Hi Sheree, yeah, I know exactly what you mean! You get a sense early on that a certain book is going to be a 'keeper' and that's what earns them their place in our crowded shelves. The feeling that we will return to them some day. There's got to be a good balance, I think, between re-reading our favourites, and going onto new ones which have the potential to become future faves on the re-read pile.

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