|
Post by tillystar on Nov 12, 2009 16:23:34 GMT
The other day I saw an old family friend who asked me what I was reading, he said that he always gets good tips on what to read from me.
He was surprised to learn that my love of reading stems from him. When I was in my early-teens I loved reading but read the same authors again and again - Anne Rice, Stephen King, Catherine Cookson and Virginia Andrews. Despite my mum and teachers trying to get me to broaden my horizons I wouldn’t read anything else.
For my birthday one year this family friend bought me 3 books:
Lake Wobegon – Garrison Keillor A Buddha of Suburbia - Hanif Kureishi Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
I was amazed that books could be so different and so good. I fell in love with reading all over again and used to scour his shelves looking for things to borrow. What a great gift he gave me, I was surprised I hadn’t told him before.
Are there any books that changed the way you read or had an impact on your life in general?
|
|
|
Post by livaco on Nov 16, 2009 21:14:16 GMT
I remember a high school English teacher giving me a Kurt Vonnegut book. After that, I read all the Vonnegut I could find. I remember at the time feeling very special about it. He just pretty much almost threw the book at me one day as I was leaving class and said something like, "Here, you have to read this..." That was his style. He was very gruff and had a very dry sense of humor that I really loved.
As I am a teacher now, I have done similar things. If I feel that a particular student really should read a particular book, I have just trusted that feeling and gone ahead and got it for them. And now that I think about it, I always give it to them away from everybody else in a similar matter to my old high school teacher --- not a lot of talking, just "here you are; you should read this."
I just always was a voracious reader, and I love it when I see it in my students. Or with some students hopefully I can give them that gift of loving reading.
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 16, 2009 21:39:48 GMT
The gift of reading is one of the greatest things you can give your children. I've always loved reading, and have various bookshelves around the house. I think kids must pick up on this, all three of my boys are avid readers, sometimes it's hard to get them to put a book down! I feel lucky in that respect.
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 16, 2009 21:42:40 GMT
Tilly, I've read quite a few books by Virgina Andrews, she's additive.
livaco, it's amazing what we pick up from the adults around us, as kids. I'm sure your students appreciate that you care enough to throw books at them!
|
|
|
Post by cristina on Nov 18, 2009 3:04:46 GMT
I’ve been contemplating a response to this for a few days, if only to figure out why I read so much and other people don't. I’m the oldest of 3, and I developed a love for reading before I was even aware of it. I can’t even tell you why. When I was 6 or 7, I played school with my younger brother and taught him to read before he started school. He is as voracious a reader as I am. Our youngest brother never picked up reading with quite the same enthusiasm, unfortunately. And I can’t say why. However I will say that a major feature in our house is that there was really no censorship, other than for maturity (which generally wasn’t an issue anyway). By that I mean that reading outside our family’s political or religious values… even moral values, was encouraged and discussed. I tried to replicate that environment with my own children, and feel somewhat successful with my first two. An example being Cormac McCarthy's The Road, which I discussed briefly in the What is everyone reading thread – a book I so thoroughly enjoyed – and was given to me by my oldest (who never ceases to amaze me in his reading recommendations.) But history repeats (or something like that) and my youngest child, now 14 has really hated reading. Until the last year. It changed with the Twilight series of books (she actually faked being sick to stay home from school to finish one of the books). I was, of course, happy that she was enthusiastic about any book, but concerned about a literary rut. So I really smiled when a few months ago she came running to tell me she had just finished this wonderful book that I HAD TO READ RIGHT NOW! The book was Mrs Mike, written in 1947. I have been trying to introduce her to a variety of books that I thought she would enjoy for years, to little avail. Sometimes, it takes a different perspective on a reader to make the right argument, perhaps. I wonder if there was a teacher who took her aside and thrust Mrs Mike towards her? I’m happy to report that at least 2 more novels have come my way from this child. I really enjoy her new found enthusiasm and I hope to encourage it. But more than that, I am really grateful to whomever it was who saw the way in to getting her to start to love to read.
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 18, 2009 7:58:40 GMT
Our house was always full of books, so it was normal for everyone to read -- I never gave it a second thought, except for the fact that my brother was one of those annoying people who would block out the entire world when plunged into a book -- you would practically have to slap him in the face to get his attention when he was reading, and even then he would finish the page before looking up to see if the house was on fire (and as far as I know, he has not changed to this day).
I am sorry to say that I never had a teacher who deviated from the official literature program. They all just did their duty and not one bit more.
Unfortunately, it took me many years to come across friends with similar reading interests to mine but who could also push the envelope and permit the mutual discovery of new horizons from time to time. All of us can spend hours browsing in a bookstore, far from the display of bestsellers. Most of my colleagues and other acquaintances, even the more avid readers, seem to follow the traditional road of bestsellers and books mentioned on television, without ever searching for the hidden treasures.
I have nothing against that, except for the fact that the books mentioned in the media represent less than 5% of what is available (and yes, I also realize that 70% of the rest is crap).
|
|
|
Post by existentialcrisis on Nov 18, 2009 8:55:32 GMT
I am not as much of a reader as I'd like. I will get to the end of a page and suddenly realize I haven't actually taken anything in. This is most noticable when books make use of too much description and detail; I can't visualize faces, spacial dimensions, or physical characteristics very well when reading. This can make reading very tedious. Ironically, I graduated as an English major.... not having read many of the books.
However, I suppose the big turning point in my life was when I was 15 and had been reading R.L. Stine and the Babysitters Club and whatever pointless books I had to read for class. There was no teacher that led the way for me, but merely the fact that I was enrolled in I.B. English for my first year of high school, and in preparation I had the summer to read: Pride and Prejudice Great Expectations Heart of Darkness Of Mice and Men 1984 / Animal Farm Siddartha Crime and Punishment Twelth Night The Odyssey
Something like that, anyway. So to this day I have this strange pretension in that I avoid reading bestsellers, or any series, and very little that is new. I'm partial to having read the classics, but the problem is I don't particuarly enjoy reading them.
|
|
|
Post by bjd on Nov 18, 2009 9:13:20 GMT
I read a lot and always have. We didn't have that many books at home as kids, but we went to the library every week. My sister is also a reader.
My kids all read a lot, even though the youngest found it more difficult to read than his brother and sister so it took him longer to get into it. What got him interested were history books about World War 2 and fantasy novels.
I can't say that any teachers influenced my reading. Out of all my high school English teachers, the only one I remember was the one in Grade 10 who, when I handed in a book report on Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, said "Your parents allowed you to read that?" I was younger than everyone else in my class and looked even younger, so she must have thought my parents were particularly lax.
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 18, 2009 15:04:25 GMT
When I was about 11 years old my mother fell into what I can now safely say was a clinical depression. Recently widowed (at age 38) and saddled with four brats,her own mother died the same year,she took to her bed. For about a year she was physically and emotionally unavailable. Of course we were provided for but she simply was just not" there". I sought refuge at the local library and the librarian there just happened to live down the street from us. So during library hours and after hours at her home,she took me in and exposed me to a whole new world.Books and music primarily. Up until that time I had read primarily stuff like Nancy Drew mysteries which I by no means shun. Then I read "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" by Betty Smith and my life was transformed. After that came E.B. White,Shirley Jackson and Maeterlinck's "The Blue Bird". We remained very close up until her death in the 1980's.Of all the adults in my life I probably emulate her more then anyone else. In high school I had a teacher who took an interest in me and he in turn exposed me to William Styron ,Isaak Dinesen and of all things the plays of Eugene Ionesco. Thank you for the opportunity to reflect on this .
|
|
|
Post by traveler63 on Nov 18, 2009 17:09:43 GMT
I have been into books and reading since I was a small child. My Saturday consisted of piano lessons at Mrs. Johnston's house which happened to be across the street from the library. So, when I was finished, I would walk across the street and go into the children's section and the usual take was about 5 books. I still can remember the day that I was allowed to go into the adult section, through big wooden doors, I think I was 11 or 12. That to me at that time was the biggest thing that had happened. Been a reader ever since. As a matter of fact, 5 books are going back to the library today.
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 18, 2009 17:58:59 GMT
In first grade, we had a reading card that the nun would put stars on for each book read. The two big readers in first grade were me and some girl with whom I found myself in constant competition. Oh, how she infuriated me by trying to be as good as me! Anyway, I remember (but no, not as though it were yesterday), that we each had 18 stars on our cards while nobody else had more than 10 or 12. We would each take a book home every day and have a new star the next day (I don't remember if there was any check to see if we had actually read the book, but I think we were too young to know about cheating in those days -- not to mention Catholic school and mortal sin!). Anyway, after 18 stars each, we each got another book and took it home. And I got sick and missed a day of school! When I returned, I had only 19 stars and the horrible little rival bitch had 20. I cried my eyes out. In fact, I think I cried so much that it embarrassed everybody including Sister Elizabeth, and since I don't remember this as the traumatic end of my intellectual life, I think I was allowed to take two books home one weekend so that I could catch up.
|
|
|
Post by livaco on Nov 18, 2009 21:10:46 GMT
k2 lol ;D -- I used to be the one who read constantly and didn't even bother putting the names of the books on the reading card. My mom used to get so upset because other kids would win the contests. I don't know why -- I am often competitive in other academic things. I just didn't want to share my reading with anyone else...
casimira -- "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" was a turning point in my life, too. What a great book. And fitting that a librarian recommended it to you -- quite different than the librarian in the book.
Another book, or set of books that really changed me as a kid was the Tripods series. Many people have not heard of them; the first one was called The White Mountains. They were science fiction about a society where people's minds are controlled by other creatures. And it's about a boy who isn't controlled yet who escapes and fights against it. Kind of some similar themes to 1984 which I also loved, even as a kid. (Looking back I see parallels to my life where everyone I knew was a staunch Catholic and I was having some serious doubts. Kind of like everyone is brainwashed except me. A lonely feeling.)
t63 -- I so remember when I first went to the adult section of the library. I had thought about it for days and then one day just went over there. I was probably 10. Nobody stopped me, and it was like a whole new world. It was the first time in a long time, though, that I came across books that were difficult to read.
|
|
|
Post by tillystar on Nov 19, 2009 12:13:16 GMT
Thats me, I once got stranded on a train for 10 hours. It was great! I was returning home after Christmas and had a bag of new books, I finished the book I was reading and got through the next one too. As we finally got off the people who had been sat near me all commented that they were worried about me as I hadn't moved or spoken for all that time and hadn't I been disturbed by those noisy kids. What noisy kids?! I am very happy that Little Star is 2 and already loves "reading" she can spend hours looking through books and reading aloud to her teddies that she assemble round her. I like this for her own benefit but also for mine as we can sit and read together ;D
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 20, 2009 14:20:00 GMT
I don't recall ever having to be in any kind of competitive situation with regard to reading.Memorization and recitation was real big with the nuns and I excelled in that. Am grateful that this was not imposed onto reading.
|
|
|
Post by auntieannie on Nov 20, 2009 18:53:11 GMT
I can't help feeling I just am not able to catch up. until I was 18 I was reading lots and lots of books, if I was allowed, I'd spend my weekend afternoons reading on my bed, turned towards the sun on the other side of the windows. After that, life got a bit hectic also, whilst I was living alone, I would still arrange for what I would call "cleaning weekends" for my mum's benefit. I would tell her I couldn't visit every weekend because I needed to clean my properly at least once a month. I'd naturally spend the time reading, blissfully happy except when I had to force myself not to read in case I didn't sleep before a work day. Since then, I try and read, but between cooking, meeting friends, being silly online and knitting... it is tough! It is too dangerous for me to read on public transports. I tend to "jump into the book" and forget about realities such as bus/train stops / working hours, food, etc...
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 22, 2009 12:27:18 GMT
I too, cannot read a serious novel while on mass public transit. I need something lighter,less demanding of my attentions. I used to try to read on the NYC subway and more then once missed my stop. Almost ended up in the Bronx one time. Another fond memory of my early reading days was my first library card. I treasured that little piece of cardboard paper and felt so important. I would go to use it though, and the librarian(not MY librarian,some other person)would look at me and say,"I don't need that,I know who you are". While I suppose that should have made me feel important,it didn't. I wanted her to use MY card.
|
|
|
Post by bixaorellana on Dec 29, 2018 15:02:35 GMT
|
|
|
Post by casimira on Dec 29, 2018 17:35:27 GMT
Thanks for the revival of this thread.
Whenever I go on holiday somewhere I am "unplugged" save a few trips to the local library to check e-mails.
I have never taken my laptop with me and don't have a "smart phone" with wifi.
And so, I take total advantage of the time I would normally be online and read.
This past August when I went to NY and stayed at my birthplace solo I devoured 6 books within the two weeks I was there along with a variety of local periodicals.
I always look forward to having that time "off the grid" and I never "jones" to have wifi access.
Back in 2016 when my husband was very ill I had no wifi and in retrospect I am really glad that I didn't. I found that after long, grueling, angst ridden days when I would come home, I was more than content to take our dog for a long walk, come home and have a glass of wine or two and fall asleep reading. Otherwise, I would likely kept myself awake researching medical sites and the like and making myself even more anxious and exhausted. It really was a blessing in disguise.
|
|
|
Post by kerouac2 on Dec 30, 2018 19:54:17 GMT
When I went to Pondicherry, I amazingly (and intuitively) brought about 8 books with me (the weight! the weight!), and it was the perfect thing to do. It was too hot to go out for 4 or 5 hours in the middle of the day, so I stayed on my bed under the mosquito net and read. I would also read a little bit in the evening (no television or any other distraction in a $3 hotel room in those days) but I was pretty exhausted after dinner (plus the beer...). I have always retained a very fond memory of that trip.
|
|
|
Post by mickthecactus on Dec 30, 2018 21:14:09 GMT
Pondicherry is such a great place name.
|
|