In a time of unprecedented uncertainty, there’s one thing I can say for certain: I won’t be a 50-plus book reader this year — at least not new books. It’s ironic, because I certainly have more time to read. What I don’t seem to have is the ability to focus for long periods of time on the written word. There’s also the fact that the library is closed; my usual source for replenishing books has been cut off.
A book that once took me an afternoon to read, say a thriller, now takes me at least a week. A self-hoarding mechanism perhaps, but that I have the self-control to do this means I’m not really that engaged.
There is one type of reading experience, though, that I am finding myself barrelling through, and that’s the re-read. For me, the re-read is usually dominated by beloved children’s series, my two favorites being “Betsy-Tacy” by Maud Hart Lovelace and “Little House” by Laura Ingalls Wilder.
As much as I relish familiar characters and favorite chapters, what’s astonishing is how every time I read these books I notice something new, or relate to an incident differently.
For example, some years ago I became fascinated with WW I, even visiting several battlefields on the Western Front. In my next “Betsy-Tacy” re-read, I was fascinated to “discover” the role the impending conflict had in the series’ penultimate installmant, Besty and the Great World.
Last month I started my re-read of “The Great Brain” series, which takes place in southwest Utah at the end of the 19th century. Imagine my surprise when I rediscovered that the second chapter is all about infectious diseases and quarantines!
This was a storyline I could now relate to in a whole new way. It also demonstrated how differently we now deal with infectious diseases. Once they were a normal part of life and systems were in place to mitigate their spread. Now we’re completely overwhelmed by the coronavirus, which is why it has led to unprecedented uncertainty.
Considering the times we live in, it’s probably not surprising that nostalgic reads are what I’m turning to. Uncertainty craves the familiar.
Shana Goldberg may be reached at [email protected]
Copyright © 2020 by the Intermountain Jewish News
