Most readers will vouch that they read a book for the sheer joy of reading. But what about re-reading a book? What propels some people to revisit pages, to journey again with familiar, albeit slightly altered, characters? Does rereading non-fiction also feel different? While reading entails a silent conversation between a writer and a reader, re-reading adds another element to this exchange. Our former self — or at least how we remember ourselves — interacts with our present self as we re-encounter pages. In doing so, we not only gain fresh insights but also understand our inner worlds better. What aspects of ourselves have remained the same or morphed over time?
In The Harvard Gazette, Liz Mineo interviews Harvard professors to find out what compels them to re-read certain books despite their tightly packed schedules. Evelyn Hammonds, Professor of African and African American studies, has been rereading The Colour Purple by Alice Walker at least once every year, as she derives “something new from it” each time. The story, which examines the “bonds of womanhood and sisterhood”, resonates even today as we understand the significance of a sense of community in our lives. Given that relationships and community have always been and will always be an integral facet of the human condition, books like The Colour Purple are timeless.
Ya-Chieh Hsu, Professor of Stem Cell and Regenerative Biology, prefers audiobooks as they can be heard while we are exercising or doing chores. Hsu listens to Big Magic now and then as it helps her be creative in her field. Though the book is written from a writer’s viewpoint, Hsu finds that she too can draw lessons from it. She finds one chapter, ‘Walk Proudly’, particularly poignant as it emboldens her to “be brave”. As creativity in any discipline involves taking risks, Hsu listens to this chapter “countless times” as it inspires her to soldier on.
As we evolve
In an article in The Yale Review, Viktor Brombert admits that he sometimes forgets that he has even read a book. On perusing the book again, he discovers that he had read it earlier by seeing the scribbles he had pencilled in the margins. At times, he finds that he is not the same person who read the book earlier and wonders why he even underlined certain lines or made some comments that don’t resonate with his current self. He realised that his “way of reading the text had shifted”, as he himself has changed in many ways.
Though we know the story, a writer can continue to surprise us when we revisit a work. I read The Painted Veil by Somerset Maugham for the first time in my early twenties. I remember being profoundly moved by the protagonist’s arc. From being a rather despicable character, she transforms into a relatable, even likeable, person. When I was drawn to re-reading the book in my forties, I wasn’t sure whether I would feel the same way. Weirdly, though I remembered the book fairly well, it felt like I was reading it for the first time. I struggled to put it down. Of course, this also speaks to Maugham’s gift as a writer and his nuanced understanding of human vulnerability. I’m hoping to revisit this book in my sixth decade.
When I read non-fiction, I usually mark portions that I find significant with a pencil. Later, when I need to refer to the book, I usually reread the marked-out portions. Given that we have limited time, I find this method effective for most non-fiction titles. But fiction has to be devoured from end to end.
The writer is the author of Zero Limits: Things Every 20-Something Should Know. She blogs at www.arunasankaranarayanan.com.
Published - October 06, 2024 12:30 pm IST
