Finished April 16, 2002
I love that feeling of complete integration when I'm listening to a podcast or audiobook and I get so fascinated that I have to pull over and park, and listen with all my being. It's like a feeling of falling in, but pleasantly so.
That happened today with a sequel to a book in which it had happened before. The first book, Hatchet, concerned a 13-year-old boy named Brian who must survive in the Canadian Rockies when his small plane crash lands. Hatchet contained several scenes in which I "fell in." The sequel (one of several sequels), Brian's Return, contained a poignant scene in which Brian has an experience reading Shakespeare that changes his life.
In the story, Brian's friend had recommended that he take a few -- just a few -- books with him when he went back to his beloved forest. He recommended Shakespeare and told Brian to read slowly and out loud. Feeling a little silly, Brian does one day, as he waits for his clothes to dry.
Anyone who has experienced the wonder of being taken by surprise by a book knows the feeling described in this scene. I've experienced this when trying to wring the meaning from a difficult passage, or being overcome by a description or a scene, or finding a special connection with a story, a character, an author. A light suddenly comes on in Brian's head as he reads. New understanding dawns in his mind, connecting him to the author, another human who lived hundreds of years before him, and the deeper meaning of the text touches Brian profoundly.
I parked the car, riveted to the story. Peter Coyote, the actor who narrates Paulson's Brian stories, strikes me as someone who knows this feeling. There ought to be a word for it. Absorption isn't quite right, because it misses the emotional quality that's key. Anyway, he read this magical passage with the tenderness it deserved. Listening with reverence, I let the scene wash over me. I cried, blew my nose, and cried some more. It was glorious.
Paulson is a vivid and engaging author, and I have enjoyed the three books of his that I have read. I look forward to reading them to my grandchildren, and weeping again.
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