First published in The Hindu, 6th October 2024
Most readers will vouch that they read a book for the sheer joy of reading. But what about rereading 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? Just as reading entails a silent conversation between a writer and a reader, rereading 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 from the book 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 reread certain books despite having tightly-packed schedules. Evelyn Hammonds, Professors 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 Purpleare timeless.
Ya-Chieh Hsu, Professor of Stem Cell & Regenerative Biology, prefers audiobooks as they can be heard while we are exercising or doing chores. Hsu listens to Big Magic every now and then as it helps her be creative in her field. Though the book is written from the viewpoint of a writer, 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 actually had read it earlier by seeing the scribbles he had penciled in the margins. At times, he finds that he is not the same person who read the book earlier. He wonders why he even underlined certain lines or made some comments that don’t resonate with his current self. He realized that his “way of reading the text had shifted” as he himself has changed in many ways.
Though we know the story of a book, 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 rereading 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 alsospeaks 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 nonfiction, 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.)