Stuff I'm Thinking About

September 2, 2009

Of Literature and Letters

Filed under: Books — clwilson91 @ 3:48 pm
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So I’ve been thinking…

What is it about great books that make us want to be our better selves?  As I listen each day during my seemingly interminable commute to The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (for the third time, I might add) I find myself wanting to unearth in myself the courage of Elizabeth McKenna, the selflessness of Isola Pribby, the fortitude of Dawsey Adams, the elegance of Amelia Maugery, and the inquisitiveness and openness of Juliette Ashton.  As the character of Juliette makes friends with these Guernsey Islanders through letters, they become my friends too.  I see myself at their society meetings listening to John Booker talk about his days impersonating Lord Tobias; I hear Dawsey talk of admiration for Charles Lamb; I laugh along with these fictional friends of mine.  Books–or at least really good ones–bring one into the story in such a way that you become not just familiar with the people and places described there in but acquainted with them.  Good books are a time machine and a tele-transporter.   Each morning and each evening I am transported from the latest traffic jam on I-85 in Atlanta to the cliffs of Guernsey in 1946. 

I’ve gotten acquainted with many wonderful souls through books.  Last week I got to spend time with another friend, Mrs. Elner Shimfissle of Elmwood Springs, MO thanks to Fanny Flagg’s wonderful Can’t Wait to Get to Heaven.  And of course I found lifelong friendship with the sharp tongued Elizabeth Bennet, the pragmatic Elinor Dashwood (and her sister Marianne), the well-meaning but misguided Emma Woodhouse, the thoughtful Anne Elliot, the principled Fanny Price, and the good-hearted Catherine Moreland.

I often meet people who tell me “I don’t like to read.”  I can’t fathom that.  To me, that is like saying “I don’t like to breathe.”   Or perhaps, more aptly, I don’t like to dream. 

I’ve begun to despair of ever writing something worth stocking on a library shelf.  But just as I think I should put away my quill and ink, I hear the voice of my fictional friends cheering me on.  Perhaps some day…

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