Of the splurge three days ago, one book winsomely managed to snuggle in between two other books I am reading (and haven’t finished yet).
It is not often that book comes and shakes you awake from the slumber of everyday usualness. I don’t mean those changes clanging about around you morphing your personality into some future permanence. No I don’t mean books like Atlas Shrugged. I mean the gentle awakening in the morning, where you do choose to take the sheets off your eyes and take the pain to open you eyes to the light that beckons. Perhaps walk over to the balcony, feel and smell the fresh air. This is a book of that genre.
I don’t review books very well. I don’t recommend books even – and for that matter I don’t take recommendations often. Books mean different things to different people, usually that meaning is inscrutable. The last time I recommended a book, my friend thought that Papillon was a general escape story; the last time I bought a book recommended by someone, I am trying hard to dispose Rich Dad Poor Dad (If no one takes it – it’s going out of the window).
Books make their own choices about you, Like AFJ
says used to say, the book chooses you.
And AFJ is the reason I bought South of the Border, West of the Sun (Haruki Murakami). I’ll admit I didn’t know that this was a title of the book until three days ago, never having even taken the pain to read her archives. (She does have a review, I find today)
When I wrote a silent prayer three days ago, I really meant it. More because I wanted to stop buying and read the few that I bought.
We all use the comment form to say what we think of posts that fellow-bloggers write. God, I guess has his own super-methods to comment on posts, with a sense of humour, even. Guess he wanted me to have a nice day – at night. It’s about half-past three in the morning here, west of the world where the sun has started the day for my love, hopefully woken her up. It is nice and bright all over – here, even while the sun is there.
In an hour I’ll see the sun here in the east, west of you, anyway! All’s nice and bright.