Some works of literature demand not just reading, but rereading—slowly and deliberately. They are not to be consumed and set aside but to be lived with, returned to, studied and puzzled over.
The Chronicles of Prydain is a masterpiece! The growth that Taran experiences is so well done. I have read all the books you listed except Mrs. Frisby. And some of them more than once.
People ask me, “at your age, why do you care about all the stuff you read?” You, Mr. Rose, provide a partial explanation, not just for them, but for me. In reading your essays, I feel a subtle expanding of joy that begins somewhere and moves to the surface. It’s like the feeling I have when I realize I’m understanding another language without mentally translating it. I’ll have to think more deeply to try to explain it. To merely say, thank you, seems inadequate, but, thanks, anyway.
"A Shakespearean tragedy, a Gothic masterpiece, a medieval mosaic of human folly and wit—all deepening with each encounter, each reading layering over the last like sediment forming a deeper, richer soil."
I love this idea that each re-read isn’t only a new layer added to the pile of meanings found in a book, but each fresh discovery actually becomes part of what yields subsequent discoveries on later re-reads. Revelation begets revelation.
Beautiful thoughts about truly great literature and WHY it is truly great.
As a 5th grade teacher, I've learned to see similar depth and stunningly wise meditations in the best of the best children's literature:
Chronicles of Prydain
Secret Garden
Anne of Green Gables
The Phantom Tollbooth
Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH
Peter Pan
They never get old. The richness, complexity, and depth never cease to make me think.
The Chronicles of Prydain is a masterpiece! The growth that Taran experiences is so well done. I have read all the books you listed except Mrs. Frisby. And some of them more than once.
I re-read Animal Farm with adult eyes and it was a very edifying experience.
I did the same thing! Reading at 12 and at 22 — it was reading different books.
People ask me, “at your age, why do you care about all the stuff you read?” You, Mr. Rose, provide a partial explanation, not just for them, but for me. In reading your essays, I feel a subtle expanding of joy that begins somewhere and moves to the surface. It’s like the feeling I have when I realize I’m understanding another language without mentally translating it. I’ll have to think more deeply to try to explain it. To merely say, thank you, seems inadequate, but, thanks, anyway.
"A Shakespearean tragedy, a Gothic masterpiece, a medieval mosaic of human folly and wit—all deepening with each encounter, each reading layering over the last like sediment forming a deeper, richer soil."
I love this idea that each re-read isn’t only a new layer added to the pile of meanings found in a book, but each fresh discovery actually becomes part of what yields subsequent discoveries on later re-reads. Revelation begets revelation.