Books and Why I Like Them

I get asked all the time why I like books so much. Usually by my students. I give them the typical answer about how books let you see the world from a different point of view, visit places you've never been, feel things you haven't felt, get to know characters (and, with really good books, get to know something new about yourself), examine some aspect of human nature. All those things are true. All those are reasons why I like books. But they're not really why I love them. I love them because words, when they're put together the right way, take my breath away. They make me see how beautiful the world can be. It sounds ridiculous, but it's true.

For my mom, two of the things that do that for her are wild flowers and sunsets. When I was a kid, I remember many times when my mom would make my dad pull the car over so she could get out and take a picture of a flower she saw growing on the side of the road. It became a huge joke for me and my sisters. But now, when I read a really great sentence or paragraph, I think I know exactly how my mom felt. I think God uses books to bless me. He knows that when He created me, He gave me a crazy love for the written word. And when He created some other people, He gave them this amazing ability to craft the written word. And He somehow manages to make sure the things they write using their gifts make it into my hands because He knows it's just going to make me really happy. Every time I read a really good book--the kind of book with sentences that I want to curl up with, to live inside (and this is actually how I describe them--ask people who know me, and chances are they have heard me say at least once that "I want to live in this sentence")--it's like a small gift from God, given for no other reason than that He loves me and likes to see me smile...and He knows that a well-crafted sentence is a sure fire way to make that happen.

They come in different types--some are like pieces of candy, quick and delicious, and they put a little jump in your step. Some are like really fabulous gourmet food that you want to eat slowly and savor down to the very last bite. But, every once in a while, I stumble across a truly great batch of sentences. I find the kind of book that wraps itself around me like a really fabulous blanket and manages to warm me down to the depths of my book-loving soul. Usually it's when a writer somehow manages to put into words something I never could. For me, it's how it feels to have lost my dad when I was 12.

People ask me all the time what that was like, what it's still like. I try and give them an answer, but I've never really been satisfied with what I tell them. I think the closest I've ever come was saying it made me feel like a sailor (one from a really long time ago, from before the days of navigational instruments) would feel if he were out at night and the North Star suddenly disappeared from the sky--really scared, really alone, and like nothing made sense or was ever going to be right again. (If I'm being honest, I was pretty proud of that particular comparison....) It also made me feel like I was someone who was always going to be really misunderstood because no one knew what it felt like. So, whenever I find a book that manages to articulate for real what it feels like to lose someone, it makes me feel oddly unalone, like maybe what I feel sometimes doesn't make me strange, like maybe what I feel is normal. And that's comforting.

Because I've actually had people ask me if I ever found books that I thought painted an authentic picture of losing a parent, here's the very short list that I give as an answer: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer; Jeremy Fink and the Meaning of Life by Wendy Mass; and the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. (I know...how could a bunch of books about magic be authentic, but trust me, if you're a kid who has lost a parent, I really believe the way Rowling describes how Harry feels about his parents will feel right on point to you...how it stays with you in this oddly defining kind of way and always leaves you feeling like you're missing something.)

It had been a few years since I had found one of these books, but I just finished what I think just might be the best one yet. As previously blogged, I started reading The Death and Life of Charlie St. Cloud. It's a fantastic gem of a book that I highly recommend--especially if you want to see the movie. Read it first. Anyway, if you've heard of the book or seen the preview for the movie, you know that Charlie's younger brother dies (it happens at the beginning, so I'm not ruining anything). There's a scene in the book when he's talking to Tess (the sailor girl), and she asks him what he misses the most about his brother. Here's his answer:

Most of all...I miss that feeling when you go to sleep at night and when you wake up in the morning. It's the feeling that everything is all right in the world. You know, that amazing feeling that you're whole, that you've got everything you want, that you aren't missing anything. Sometimes when I wake up, I get it just for a moment. It lasts a few seconds, but then I remember what happened, and how nothing has been the same since....Some days are better than others....It feels like it's gone, and I'm just like everyone else. Then, without warning, it comes back and lodges in my mind. That's when I don't feel right being around anyone....I guess I never really know when it'll hit me....

These are words I want to live in...because for the first time, it felt like someone perfectly said exactly how I feel. That's why I love books. Because when they're done right, you get those moments--the ones where you feel like someone made sense of your world, the ones where you don't feel so alone.

(And, in case anyone was wondering, going to see Charlie St. Cloud has brought me out of my mini-existential crisis brought on earlier in the summer when I saw Eclipse--the one where for the first time I actually liked a movie better than a book. I can say, without a doubt, that in the case of Charlie St. Cloud, the book is infinitely better. The movie's good, but it's not even close to the book. I have decided that it's because I love Ben Sherwood's writing; I want to curl up and live in his book. In The Death and Life of Charlie St. Cloud, I love the writing and the story. But, I've never been the biggest fan of Stephanie Meyer's style (she uses too many dashes and Edward's eyes always smolder). With the Twilight books I mainly just get into the story, so when they become movies, my favorite part is still there. That's not the case with most book movies--I lose the writing, which is usually my favorite thing. I feel much better having solved this problem.)

(And before anyone points out that I use dashes a lot, let me just clarify that Stephanie Meyer uses them in places where I feel commas would be more than sufficient, and that makes me feel like the flow of the writing gets needlessly interrupted. When I use a dash, I feel like there needs to be a rather significant pause.)