The Pleasures of Literature
Where on earth did I get this? Not from my father, certainly – who had no taste in literature whatsoever. Not even from my mother, who read to us such things as the Little Colonial stories. During one tragic interval in the story, I burst into tears – to my mother’s intense annoyance. I was not supposed to take the story so seriously, she said. I was amazed in turn, how could she not take the story seriously?
It was then that I began to realize that I was different – that I took life seriously – and emotionally. Something most people find strange.
But not everyone – I discovered other people, although never in person, who did have an interest in Literature. And who wrote about their experiences. As I am doing now.
I am listening now to Ancient Light - which is definitely literature – so much so, I sometimes find it alarming.
It takes me back to my childhood – when time moved more slowly, and where our world (back in a forgotten corner of the Midwest) still had time to be - and to be savored.
I remember one evening in particular - where I and my girl-friend of the moment went for a walk under the stars. She never noticed them, or the lovely evening – but instead took advantage of the moment to tell me how much she hated her father. An amazing hatred, as it turned out, that I never forgot.
I learned, for the first time, how attractive – and how destructive women can be. A strange combination.