Diane Girard Writes: Rereading Books for Pleasure and Solace
Rereading Books for Pleasure and Solace
By Diane Girard
Right: Jean Honoré Fragonard, painter, French, 1732 - 1806; Young Girl Reading, c. 1769, oil on canvas, Gift of Mrs. Mellon Bruce in memory of her father, Andrew W. Mellon. National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.
I return to some of my favorite books these days for fun and for comfort. And, as the pandemic has shown me, reading printed books gives me a break from peering at words and images online. I enjoy cat videos as much as anyone but sometimes, I need something more personal. I don’t have a huge home library, nor do I have a large collection of the classics. My local library has many of them and it is two short blocks away.
The books I reread aren’t necessarily high-falutin’ tomes. I’m a short person and I don’t claim to be an intellectual. So, what have I reread recently? A week or two ago, I finished Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women again. I have the copy my mother gave me when I was eleven years old. The front cover has parted ways with the interior and the pages have some foxing but I love it still. Of course, I know what happens to all of the Marches and that is part of the book’s charm.
Although Beth died and that was sad: she was too sweet to survive the whole novel. Jo claimed my admiration when I first read about her and she remains in first place. I wish that Alcott had allowed her to continue to write after her marriage, even so, the book was progressive for its time and the characters are memorable.
For contrast and with no obvious morals tucked into the story, I sometimes reread H.E. Bates’, A Little of What You Fancy. The Larkins are, as the cover of my 1979 edition notes, ‘thirsty, hungry, lusty, happy, irrepressible — immortal’. Bates wrote several books about the Larkins and there was a TV series called ‘The Darling Buds of May.’ The stories are set in the English countryside and Pop Larkin’s motto is the more the merrier, which also applies to his amorous activities. If income tax evasion, opposition to the tunnel under the English Channel, a lot of tippling, and women expressing healthy sexual appetites distress you, I suggest you don’t read the book.
It’s set in the very early 1960’s when women’s roles began to change. Ma Larkin who has eight children and doesn’t approve of the pill believes in letting nature take its course and after one of her daughters seduces the vicar, it does. Naturally, all’s well that ends well and here are lots of laughs before that. I don’t know about you, but I need humor more than ever and so this non-serious very British read retains its appeal.
When I’m confused or downhearted, I return to Madeleine L’Engle’s book, A Circle of Quiet. She wrote about her time living in a small New England town with her young family, her need to believe in a creator, the joys and sorrows of her domestic life, and her writing career. If that sounds heavy, it isn’t. L’Engle had humility and the ability to laugh at herself. Some of her best anecdotes are based on her perception of her own failings. She avoided being what the girls in her boarding school days referred to as ‘pi’ for pious while she explored whether life has meaning and other difficult topics. I find something different to consider every time I reread her words.
There’s a small library for the residents of my building and sometimes I choose a cozy mystery paperback from its shelves. It might turn out to be one I’ve read years ago and I don’t mind that at all, if the writing is good. On a stormy night (but not the dark and stormy one), it’s fun to return to a book where, within its pages, good will triumph over evil and the mystery will be solved. What a fine escape from the realities of today’s world!
I rejoice in the delights I see when I return to the pages of Painting – Musee d’Orsay. Maybe I’m cheating since the book is filled with photos of paintings, but there is an introduction by Stephan Guegan and printed insets about some of the works. My daughter gave me the book after our trip to Paris in 2015. It is a heavy coffee-table edition and usually I keep it on a shelf next to Notre-Dame de Paris, at the Crossroads of Cultures by Marie-Jeanne Coloni. The Notre Dame book returns me to the feeling of awe I experienced when I was there. The two books are neighbors on my shelves. They have an uneasy alliance because they are both from France but one is overtly religious and the other one isn’t. If I wish to take one out to peruse, I must take out the other one too and so I do.
While the pandemic grinds on and other disasters occur, I’m thankful for a respite from the news, even for a brief period of time. I recommend rereading whatever pleases you, and if you cannot stop until two in the morning — at least you’ll be in good company.
Read on, dear folk, read on!
