What’s your favourite book? And Why?

I have spent a good part,

of the last two days,

reading,

Where The Red Fern Grows.

I am sure many of you have read it.

It’s something of a classic,

there are over,

eight hundred reviews,

on amazon, alone.

OK,

I’m sort of embarrassed to admit,

I had never heard of this book,

until about a month ago.

A woman  I met,

told me about it,

it seemed to mean,

a lot to her.

I was intrigued and interested,

by both the book and the woman.

So, a couple of Sundays ago,

I took it out of the library.

It was the first time,

I went to the children’s section.

It’s a wonderful book.

Full of fun and adventure.

It’s about the importance,

of friendship,

of family,

of loyalty,

of sacrifice,

and of hard work.

Full of love and compassion,

as well as,

pain and heartbreak.

An exemplary piece of  children’s literature.

One of the first questions,

I ask someone who I find interesting,

is,

what is your favourite book?

It’s important to me.

I also know it’s not really,

that easy a question to answer.

It can vary,

depending on life circumstance.

For instance,

the summer I was fourteen,

I read a giant opus of a book,

Youngblood Hawke by Herman Wouk.

I was really taken with it,

all I remember about it now,

is that it was humongous,

and it made me dream of being a writer.

It was about a writer and I thought,

wow,

that is the most interesting of lives.

I have never re-read that book,

I don’t know if I would still like it,

so,

I will go on remembering it,

vaguely,

and dreamily.

It’s better not to tempt,

dissapointment.

One book I love and have re-read is,

The Catcher In The Rye,

I know many people don’t like this novel,

but,

to me,

it is the best portrayal,

I have read,

of how alien and marginal,

a sensitive, intelligent,

teenager feels.

I read it last year and I felt,

the gnawing in the pit of my stomach,

I was fifteen again,

not in a nostalgic,

wasn’t it great sort of way,

but,

in a,

my God,

will anyone ever get me, way.

But, my favourite book of all time is,

The World According To Garp.

I have been thinking about this,

the past few weeks,

and wondering,

what this says about me.

I think it means I expect the worst,

but,

fervently hope for the best.

I also think it means,

I think you should be weary of,

joining anything,

that orthodoxy,

even when it starts from a good place,

more often than not leads to fanaticism.

It says I know love is imperfect,

and,

sometimes painful,

but,

always worth the risk.

It means I should always try to,

remember what being a child is,

that flippant off hand remarks,

can lead to years of misunderstanding,

and sometimes permanent scaring.

It means that life is both,

hysterically funny and tragic,

sometimes,

simultaneously.

An odd choice as a favourite granted,

it’s about a man,

raised by a single mother,

who has a family and is a writer.

I am none of these things.

And yet,

somehow,

I always felt that someway, somehow,

I was Garp.

Strange.

But, if,

I am anything,

I am strange:-)

Tell me what your favourite book is,

I’m interested.

Later girls,

BB

Published by

Bookish Butch

I am a bookish butch in my very early fifties. I live in Montréal and always have. I used to run a small used bookstore. Reading keeps me sane. My latest jiggie is photography, book project in the works, living the dream

7 thoughts on “What’s your favourite book? And Why?”

  1. As a teenager, Lorna Doone was my favorite book. I still have a copy on my shelf but I don’t pull it down much anymore.

    These days it seems I am too fickle to have a favorite book for longer than a few months or weeks. Maybe I’m still just looking for “the one”.

  2. Have you read 84 Charing Cross Road, if you haven’t, you might have a new favourite. I have never read Lorna Doone,
    next time I’m in the library, I’m looking it up:-)

  3. Favourite books is indeed a challenge: as a kid, Island of the Blue Dolphins, The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, Island by Aldous Huxley. Does it count that I don’t read a lot of fiction? Breathing Lessons by Anne Tyler, Neil Gaimen’s American Gods, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Mists of Avalon, Kathleen Norris’ The Cloister Walk, ALL of Mary Oliver’s works of poetry and more recently, the one I’m reading now, the newest translation of the The Second Sex: by Constance Borde and Sheila Malovany-Chevallier and “unabridged in English for the first time”. 🙂 I could go on and on but at this time of the night…that’s all that comes to mind.

  4. Thanks for the suggestion. I liked ‘The Guernsey Literary and Potatoe Pie Society’ (sp?) which is in the same veing, I think.

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