Posted by Lacy LeBlanc on Jun 9, 2014 in Apex Publications Blog: Matters of SF, Fantasy, and Horror | 2 comments
So, when I was trying to come up with a topic for this post, I ran up against a brick wall of writer’s block. Well, not writer’s block, exactly, since I didn’t have any problem writing things. More like topic block. I drew a complete and total blank, so like any true representative of my generation, I turned to the internets for help. One of my fellow Bombshells suggested that I write about rereading books.
My knee-jerk reaction is that I don’t have the time or inclination to reread books right now. Which is entirely true. But her suggestion did get me thinking about all the times I’ve reread books in the past. Sometimes, it’s been a wonderful experience; sometimes, it’s been the exact opposite.
For years, I read and reread and re-reread the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I had to read The Hobbit for school in sixth grade, and I fell in love with it. After my father saw me rereading it (possibly for the umpteenth time), he gave me his LotR trilogy from the 60s. They were in good shape when I got them, but now, the covers are tattered, slightly torn, and possibly waterlogged. (What? I like to read in the tub, and sometimes I drop a book.) I’m not quite sure where I fell off my habit of reading them every year or so, but I still have nothing but fond memories of those books, and they definitely still have a home on my shelf.
I’ve also enjoyed rereading a few fantasy series, especially the Black Jewels books by Anne Bishop and the Twilight Saga by Stephanie Meyer. Yes, yes, I know. Judge away. Trust me, I judge myself, but sometimes, you just need fluff. And when I was finishing grad school, that fluff came in the form of sparkly vampires and heartsick werewolves. You try spending your one free day per week with your head shoved in Early Modern history books for 10 hours and see how much literature you can handle. Those books are comfortable and easy; there’s nothing wrong with that.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have such good luck with the Chronicles of Narnia. I adored those books growing up. The Voyage of the Dawn Treader was my absolute most favorite book for many, many years. When my junior high drama department put on the stage version of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, I played Lucy (though I really wanted to be the White Queen). But when I tried to go back and read the books as an adult, I felt like I was being smacked in the head with the allegory stick. It’s not that I didn’t know the allegory was there—believe me, my ultra-conservative Christian school probably wouldn’t have agreed to put it out, otherwise—but I guess I could gloss over it more easily or didn’t have enough reading experience to recognize just how blatant it was. This makes me kind of afraid to go back and read all of the fabulous Madeline L’Engle books that I loved as a kid because I probably loved them even more than the Narnia books. I don’t know if I could take Meg and Charles Wallace being diminished in my memories, even if the memories of them are getting a bit fuzzy.
I guess my conclusion is that rereading books is a pretty mixed bag. Sometimes, you get a mental break or that warm, fuzzy feeling from revisiting old favorites. Sometimes, you get beaten over the head with the allegory stick and have some of your most cherished memories ruined. And you never really know which you’ll get until you sit down and crack the pages open.
Lacy is occasionally witty, sometimes charming, and frequently clever. She’s a runner, cook, reader, wine drinker, and book reviewer. http://bookshelfbombshells.com/staff/lleblanc/