If you know me at all, you know books bring meaning to my life. If you follow my blogging life at all (and why wouldn’t you? I’m just sooo interesting *eye roll*), you might be confused as to why this is being published on Unashamed Truths instead of Bookish Liaisons. Well, I try and keep the book blog fairly impersonal. Ok, at least, I try to keep my personal narrative out of it.
We have this stupid saying “the eyes are the gateway to the soul.” No. Anyone with any decent amount of self-control or acting ability can convincingly say “I’m happy” with their eyes all the while contemplating the many ways to kill their boss. I have no boss, so that’s just an example. I have always had the theory that books tell us more about ourselves than anything else. I have read a lot, and I truly mean a lot. I’ve read books in every genre. I’ve read everything from Chaucer to Hawking – I do mean Stephen – to Dostoevsky – in Russian – to anthologies to Ngozie to Orwell to Shakespeare to Zinn to Voltaire – in French – to Tesla to I don’t even know. The one thing I do know is books hold one universal truth: people gravitate towards themselves. When I really want to get to know someone, I ask them their favorite book. It tells me more than I need to know about them.
I have two favorite books. I can’t choose between them. Tess of the D’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy and House of Mirth by Edith Wharton. The obvious is they’re both old, and therefore you can tell I’m nostalgic and look to the past for comfort or answers. Another obvious conclusion can be drawn from the strong, young, female protagonists… I’m not one to fall into the category of a common or traditional woman. I’m drawn to them because I see myself in them more than I do in most books. I love Tess because I read my story in a few ways. We were both raped young; though, I never got pregnant – thank Yahweh. I identify with the story because rape defined both of our lives for both good and bad. I love House of Mirth because both Lily and I never fit. We both have spent our lives searching for a place. More than anything, I connect with the ending. I won’t spoil it because I know you’ve already ordered it on Amazon,
My best friend’s favorite book genre tells a lot more about her than she would like to admit. My ex/best friend reads a lot more than people know, but his books of choice just reiterate what I already know about him.
I have a tendency to travel alone a lot. I don’t go anywhere without books. On planes people like to start conversations with me even though I’m completely enveloped in a book with headphones in. So I have started the tradition of asking people who like to interrupt my in flight reading what their favorite book is, and then I tell them about themselves based on it. Suffice to say, most people are surprised I know them so well already. I know people because I know books.