You sit on my bookshelf even after all these years.
You are worn; your cover lined and cracked and your pages thinning and drying out like aged skin.
You were nothing but a cheap paperback even then but somehow you’ve aged gracefully despite it.
Of all the books from my childhood you were the one I returned to again and again: each time I dove down was a new experience coloured by my extra years and experience.
Even now I see you for what you were and are; a cracking good yarn by a young and inexperienced writer. No wonder you spoke to me when I got you at the age of ten.
You were a post-apocalyptic young adult novel started a good 40 years before the Hunger Games existed and long before that was recognised as a genre. You were conceived even before I was and the years and years it took for you to be published show how long it took for the world to catch up to you.
You had the rawest of young adult themes; difference, alienation and a fear of how people would react when they saw the real you. Somebody is out there, you said, one day you will find your people.
You were the book I first thought of when the time came for me to buy novels for my nieces and nephews years later. But what a glorious realisation I had then! You had sequels! I had never known.
I bought you for each of them in turn, oldest to youngest, as soon as they reached their first decade. And they loved you just as much as I had. And hated me for introducing you to them. Your sequels were still being written, the series unfinished.
“How dare you, Aunt,” they cried, “Why introduce us to this wonder if the story is not yet done!”
“Mea culpa,” I said, “mea culpa. I DID NOT KNOW.”
I didn’t like the sequels anyway. When I finally sat down to read them I found them forced and contrived; sequels for the sake of sequels. Like Highlander, I will just pretend there was only one.
Because that is what you are.
The only one.
The one I still sit down and read again. The one book on my shelf that has been read almost to death. Read even more times than my collection of Terry Pratchett novels. Loved even more than my copy of The Name of the Rose.
I pulled you off the bookshelf again today.
I think I might read you again.
Thank you, Obernewtyn.
For being with me all these years.
This is awesome. I have so many feelings! I mean, I’ve never read this book — at first I was thinking that I should but now I don’t know if I should… I sort of think I’d rather imagine it being as you describe it and only that — but I have books that are my own version of this, and you’ve captured the feeling so well. I’m all nostalgic now — in the best way <3 <3 <3
On the one hand, I want to recommend the book. But on the other, there’s no way to mimic the emotional response to something you had as a child. Would I have liked it as much if I read it as an adult? I honestly don’t know.
yes! exactly! that’s exactly how i think about certain books too, and i hesitate to recommend them, lest other people NOT love what i love and find flaws that I know are there but that my love has blinded me to.
LT is Irresistibly Indifferent, Dame Judi
February 12, 2019 at 1:56 AM
You sit on my bookshelf even after all these years.
You are worn; your cover lined and cracked and your pages thinning and drying out like aged skin.
You were nothing but a cheap paperback even then but somehow you’ve aged gracefully despite it.
Of all the books from my childhood you were the one I returned to again and again: each time I dove down was a new experience coloured by my extra years and experience.
Even now I see you for what you were and are; a cracking good yarn by a young and inexperienced writer. No wonder you spoke to me when I got you at the age of ten.
You were a post-apocalyptic young adult novel started a good 40 years before the Hunger Games existed and long before that was recognised as a genre. You were conceived even before I was and the years and years it took for you to be published show how long it took for the world to catch up to you.
You had the rawest of young adult themes; difference, alienation and a fear of how people would react when they saw the real you. Somebody is out there, you said, one day you will find your people.
You were the book I first thought of when the time came for me to buy novels for my nieces and nephews years later. But what a glorious realisation I had then! You had sequels! I had never known.
I bought you for each of them in turn, oldest to youngest, as soon as they reached their first decade. And they loved you just as much as I had. And hated me for introducing you to them. Your sequels were still being written, the series unfinished.
“How dare you, Aunt,” they cried, “Why introduce us to this wonder if the story is not yet done!”
“Mea culpa,” I said, “mea culpa. I DID NOT KNOW.”
I didn’t like the sequels anyway. When I finally sat down to read them I found them forced and contrived; sequels for the sake of sequels. Like Highlander, I will just pretend there was only one.
Because that is what you are.
The only one.
The one I still sit down and read again. The one book on my shelf that has been read almost to death. Read even more times than my collection of Terry Pratchett novels. Loved even more than my copy of The Name of the Rose.
I pulled you off the bookshelf again today.
I think I might read you again.
Thank you, Obernewtyn.
For being with me all these years.
Love, February
LT is Irresistibly Indifferent, Dame Judi
February 12, 2019 at 1:57 AM
Day 13
@kimbapnoona @bammsie @justme @greenfields @sicarius
@wishfultoki @raonah @egads
@ally-le @moana @anothernicole @snarkyjellyfish @khalessymd
@hotcocoagirl
@waadmay @oppafangirl @katakwasabi @waadmay
Waadmay
February 12, 2019 at 2:43 AM
Very lovely , hope it stays with you for longer and that you keep enjoying it 💜💜💜💜💜
Shek
February 12, 2019 at 10:54 AM
It’s amazing how certain books stay with you. Lovely post!
another woodalchi nicole recruit
February 12, 2019 at 9:18 PM
This is awesome. I have so many feelings! I mean, I’ve never read this book — at first I was thinking that I should but now I don’t know if I should… I sort of think I’d rather imagine it being as you describe it and only that — but I have books that are my own version of this, and you’ve captured the feeling so well. I’m all nostalgic now — in the best way <3 <3 <3
LT is Irresistibly Indifferent, Dame Judi
February 12, 2019 at 9:25 PM
On the one hand, I want to recommend the book. But on the other, there’s no way to mimic the emotional response to something you had as a child. Would I have liked it as much if I read it as an adult? I honestly don’t know.
another woodalchi nicole recruit
February 12, 2019 at 9:46 PM
yes! exactly! that’s exactly how i think about certain books too, and i hesitate to recommend them, lest other people NOT love what i love and find flaws that I know are there but that my love has blinded me to.
Cocoa, The Fake Poet of February
February 13, 2019 at 10:58 AM
*currently reading Terry Pratchett*
Makes me wonder if I even have a favorite book? By what criteria should I define it?
LT is Irresistibly Indifferent, Dame Judi
February 13, 2019 at 11:03 AM
This is more like my favourite childhood book. I also don’t have one favourite book although Umberto Eco’s Name of the Rose might be a contender.