One of the comments on the last post has me thinking about when, during the process of reading a book, I will go back to reread.
Because I have so many books waiting to be read, I only stop to reread small patches–sentences or paragraphs. And I read with a pencil so I can underline them. So I won’t lose them. I’ll use a pen if I don’t have a pencil, but I prefer a pencil because if I make a mistake in the underlining or if my line is too crooked, I can erase and try again. I realize this is a little neurotic. Nevertheless, it’s true. I also used to have this thing that if I started underlining in blue ink, then I had to use blue ink throughout the book. Black ink, black ink. Thank goodness–no longer.
Cadoozles are my favorite pencils-5 inches long, the perfect size
With examples from Mary Gaitskill’s story collection, Don’t Cry, here are some of the reasons I will stop the forward motion of reading to go back and reread (other than the negative reason that I don’t understand the sentence or paragraph):
- the language is beautiful: “the anonymous little haunts where songs were still alive and moving in the murky darkness”
- I’ve thought or felt the same thing before: “Music temporarily filled the empty space, soothing her and giving shape to the feelings she could not understand.”
- the author has put into words something I hadn’t even realized I thought or felt but that I recognize: “It was a cold fall night with a feeling of secret pockets and moving shadows.”
- the author has put into words something I’ve never thought about before: “Each scene covers and is covered and shows through the others, fractured, shifting, and shaded, like bits of color in a kaleidoscope.”
- the author has written about something in an entirely new way: “…even as I feel the anger, love rises up to enclose it. Inside love, anger still secretly burns–but it is a tiny flame. I can hold it like I once held my daughter in my body, a world within a world.”
- humor: “Teresa saw the false fingernails, now standing out from Dolores’s hands like evil thoughts.”
- I want to know how he or she did it–made the transition, allowed for the leap in my mind, brought me to this place.
I know I’ve left out many reasons that, now that I’m paying attention to this aspect of reading, I will realize in the next days.
Why do you go back to reread?
–and do you write in your books? (any ink issues?)
“It’s hard to tell somebody what you mean to say. And that’s an idea that I’m obsessed with. It’s why I write. It’s why everybody writes.”
--Jonathan Safran Foer
I love Mary Gaitskill, although my reactions to the stories in Don’t Cry were a little more mixed than they were to the stories in Bad Behavior.
I don’t write in books, but I do highlight passages I want to come back to and I mark pages with little post-it flags.
The examples you’ve given are exactly the types of things I tend to mark. It’s those passages where I find myself nodding my head and thinking yes, yes that’s exactly what it’s like that I tend to re-read the most often.
Unique and perfect description gets me too. On both counts I’ve used up a lot of highlighter ink with Proust and Bellow. They both amaze me.
Lisa, I agree. My reaction to the stories in Don’t Cry was mixed. Out of the 10, I loved 4, thought 5 were ok, and disliked 1. But there were sentences in almost every story that made me stop and go back to reread. I haven’t read Bad Behavior but am adding it to my list.
Love the post-it flags and highlighting–yellow, I presume?
Thanks for your comments!
Cindy, I have the EXACT same neurotic pencil/blue pen/black pen issue. I can’t stand crooked underlines, especially when they touch the bottom of the letters they’re supposed to underline. And switching colors – Ahh! I generally have some sort of post-it note with me when I read, and when I have the time, I copy my favorite passages into a journal I like to call “beautiful words.”
Yay! It’s nice to know I’m not the only crazy one.
And I used to copy favorite passages into a small notebook–on loose-leaf paper so I could alphabetize by author, so I would have some chance of locating the passage later–but now I put my favorite passages here.
Thanks for adding to the conversation, Annie!
Does it make me more or less neurotic that I would never use a blue pen or a pencil, but only a black pen – only, in fact, a specific type of black pen – when underlining in my books? I’m going to guess “more.”
I mark things for all the reasons you’ve listed, as well as a few others. Sometimes I see an unexpected connection to something else I’ve been reading or thinking about, or a passage reminds me in a less-than-obvious way of another theme or plotline in the same book. Usually I mark these and write a little note to myself in the margin, so I won’t forget. Sometimes I’m trying to articulate to myself a specific quality about the book – the way it combines two seemingly incongruous approaches, for example – and I come across a passage that exemplifies that quality, so I mark it for later thought, or to share with other people.
Thought-provoking post!
Oh, Emily, a specific type of black pen….So all your books have the same look inside. I wish I’d thought of that years ago. I would love to know the kind of pen. Can you give us a link?
Thanks, also, for mentioning those unexpected connections and the threads of themes as reasons to stop, reread, underline, and also note with a word or two.
Nice to hear from you. Hope you’ll be back.
Why, I’m so glad you asked! I use these, in the micro-point variety. I love the way their ink spreads richly and easily onto all different papers. Plus, they were my the pens my dad used when I was growing up, so there is a family connection there, as well as the force of long habit. I have a bit of environmental guilt for refusing to invest in a more permanent, refillable pen, but I just can’t bring myself to give these up.
You have a lovely blog, by the way. I’ve really been enjoying exploring, and I’ll definitely be back.
Thanks for the link, Emily. I can’t wait to try one. Perhaps this is the moment for me to go boldly forth with a pen…
And thanks for your comments about the blog!
–cynthia
Just read this on page 487 of Philip Hensher’s The Northern Clemency:
“Francis took out the half-finished bulk of his own book, eight inches thick, an A4 notebook with black binding and three green Pentel pens. He’d always used those Pentel pens; he liked the flow of the ink-soaked ball under pressure.”