"One must be an inventor to read well." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have always had a terrible habit of reading nonfiction in a nonlinear pattern.  Most nonfiction books I find tell a story from point A to point B, but for whatever reason, (especially if it's a book I am required to read,) I find it impossible to just simply follow the dots to the end.  As much as I enjoy The History of Reading by Alberto Manguel this book is no different and I find myself skipping pleasantly along through the chapters at random.  Now that you have a glimpse at my reading habits I think the rest of this entry will make a little more sense. 

At the start of this semester of school I find myself in a bit of a financial bind.  If I simply wait on financial aid to come through to purchase book will of course put me behind in my readings, so I thought I would check with the school library and see if they had any of the books I would need and as lucky would have it they did.  I picked up my copy of Manguel's book and began skimming the pages all the while trying to keep the Petrarch conversation with Augustine in mind (page 63.) I have always been someone who marks in books.  I mark important passages, passages I wish to learn more of, interesting words or phrases, or even quirky comments made by character.  I hardly ever buy new books because I like to find books that others have loved and marked and to see where their readings take them.  However, the one place I never expect to find markings is in library books.  As you can probably guess while doing my skimming I came across markings in the library book!  (OH THE HORROR! at least that's how the library acted when I made mention of it to them.)

There are just two simple blue ink brackets on page 179 marking off the sentence, "All writing depends on the generosity of the reader."   It was like a private note left just for me as if to say...yes I am talking to you reader. At first glance it sounded so simple and straightforward and yet it still gnawed at my mind all day.  I had the feeling that I was still missing some bigger part of this idea. 

Late last night I headed back to the page reading my now esoteric message once more. After reading it two more times I continued on with the pager seeing if maybe what I was missing would be revealed later.  A few lines later on the same page I read this, " [The reader/writer relationship] is a fruitful but anachronic relationship between a primeval creator who gives birth at the moment of death, and a post-mortem creator, or rather generations of post-mortem creators who enable the creation itself to speak, and without whom all writting is dead.*" Suddenly the cliche little light bulb went on in my head.  I would venture to say that many of us in the English department are here because of several reason but one being that we have something to write.  On several of the other blogs I have read of students wishing to one day publish a book of some sorts to bee seen on the selves of bookstores.  I must confess that I too have that same goal in mind, but what use is the writing if no one is willing to read what is written? 

I have had numerous teachers remind me over and over that when you write you keep your audience in mind because you are really writing for them. It's interesting when you really start to think about it trying to understand and figure out your audience, but how many novel writer do that?  In reading Manguel's book I'm starting to think it has more to do with understanding yourself and the story than understanding your reader.  In the quote above it calls the writer the creator.  If you write or "create" a book that is true to you and your original idea then you do so in the knowledge that out there somewhere in the world there is some reader who will delight in your book; and with it they will create their own understanding of the text.

Throughout Manguel's entire book I get a sense that he is who he is because of what he has read.  Numerous times in my own childhood I can remember reading of things that I had not yet physically experienced or would never be able to physically experience, and yet because of the writer's words and my own inventive imagination it was as if I was experiencing them.  There is a power that comes with writing and reading and both require so much give and take from each other, but it's in those moments of inventive struggling or pulling that wondrous things can happen.






*Added emphasis.