vrijdag 1 maart 2013

What I Love The Most

As I said in this post, reading has always been the thing I love the most in life. I would demolish every book in sight; getting lost in the wonderful sound of crackling paper, the wonderful smell of freshly pressed papers; losing myself in the imagination of another world, which seemed so alive and vivid in my mind that it almost had to be real.

The first book I ever started reading (and which I remember) was Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. I was 7 years old when my dad gave it to me, and had only just learned how to read my first couple of words in primary school, and I already tried my best to get through it. It didn’t make much sense to me at the time, but it did, however, create a whole new world in my mind. The wonderful world of Hogwarts, where magic happens and owls deliver your mails; where everything seems to be possible and nothing seemed crazy or weird. Flash forward 11 years and the Harry Potter series is still one I thoroughly enjoy and have read over and over again, to the point where I could actually say some lines straight outta my head. I have, however, been emerging myself into the world of more grown up literature, and have been really enjoying it. I just love how words can make you feel; the description of things that make reading a book so real, to the point where you can almost touch the characters and even smell what they smell, touch what they touch and feel what they feel.
Lately, I’ve been reading a lot of blogs- lately as in the past two years-, and I’ve been missing reading something substantial like crazy. After all, the internet is still an inanimate object, and I’ve been missing the feeling of a hardcover book. So, I’ve promised myself to read more books. Not more blogs, not more magazines- just a good old book. And I’m starting with Lolita, by Vladimir Nabokov.
I’ve started reading Lolita a couple of weeks ago, but have neglected it ever since. It’s not exactly ‘light’ reading; you need to be really focused and absorb every word Nabokov has written to get the whole thing. Yes, you can get the story- but it’s what’s underneath that is also important. I already really like this book, and I can see it getting one of my all time favourites.
I’ve also ordered a book by Philippe Claudel, and there are so many other books I’d like to read. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath being one of them. It’s getting to the point where I can’t even remember which books I’d like to read, so I really need to start making a list- my mind is such a mess sometimes.

As you can see, reading is a subject that I’m very passionate about and could write on and on about for a few hours; I could easily write a book about reading, yes. I would love to know if any of you has got some reading recommendations, as I would love to expand my literary knowledge! In the meanwhile, I’m going to snuggle up in front of the fire with a cup of tea and my book.

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