I don’t know about you but I’m pretty obsessed with books. I’m currently reading JOHN GREEN’S – THE FAULT IN OUR STARS and I’ve been carried away. I just sneaked out of my cloak to blog this.
Its been a while buddies, school has taken my life (errm…that’s my life , I mean school itself). I just finished the 1st lap of my 3rd year law exams, so let’s say I’m free to blog a thing or two.
Back to the mystery called BOOKS!!! I know I’ve got book lovers here. For those out there that think reading (and by reading I don’t mean your regular school books) is a waste of time.. You’ve got it all wrong.
I mean books take you to places you’ve never been. You know. You crave. You learn.
I’m not the only “bookish” person around. A friend of mine, Chiamaka Nwangwu, who is also passionate about books has this to say.
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I fell in love at a very young age. It was a love that consumed me so much , a love that affected everything i would become. It was not the love of a person, it was the love for books. They say that when we are born we first learn to crawl, then walk, then talk in that order. I am pretty sure I could read before all that. My parents bought a lot of books for me and I was simply fascinated by them. I read everything Harry Potters, Lady bird series, Enid Blytons, African Writers , Shakespearan literature, Science Fiction. As an African child I was simply fascinated by the British characters I read of in Enid Blyton books, the little children who went to tea with each other, I marvelled at the trials my ancestors might have faced when i came in contact with the works of Achebe ,Ngugi Wa Thiongo,Okot P’Bitek and I could not wait to visit America when I read the beautiful poetry of Langston Hughes.
My love gave me a lot of things I cannot be thankful enough for but I got some scars as well. At a very young age i was glassy eyed and could not see a far distance without squinting. I ate at the table no matter how much my parents disliked it. I was too in love with books. The thing with reading was that it immersed you in a completely different world. You and the characters become one and you completely comprehend in those few hours exactly what the author is thinking. You are in a completely different place, in a different era. I will never forget the day I met Dan Brown’s books each read provided moments of pure ecstasy. I couldn’t even begin to phantom how someone could come up with such beautiful stories that take place within the space of a day and simply just leaves you begging for more.
Reading introduces you to different people. It makes you very aware of the underlying situation around you. It educates, it enthralls, it entertains,it motivates. It is your last resort when all else have failed to engage you. Never mind that I had never been to America but before I was twelve,I knew all the presidents and all the states and capitals. I knew how to spell most words my classmates couldn’t because I had read a lot of books. I realised that there was no situation I was in
that was foreign someone had definitely been in my quagmire before. I still feel that thrill when I open a brand new book and inhale the scent of the freshly minted pages,that feeling can only be rivaled with an addicts whiff of heroin after being cutoff for so long.
My literature teacher would argue that a carthasis can only be achieved after a particularly emotional play but I beg to differ .After reading John Green ‘s The fault in Our Stars I am pretty sure carthasis is not a good enough word to describe how i felt. When you read you are so fascinated that a human being can intricately weave characters to form an unforgettable plot, that a book can affect you so much you want to live, eat and breathe it. As I fell in love with books , I fell in love with the characters and the authors too. I simply leave and breathe for Adichie’s words,I am a constant reader of Aravind Adigha ‘s blogs, I could recite surely not all but parts of l’inferno di dante at a very young age.
Reading influences a lot of things that you do,decisions you make and eventually the person you become, you want to be like the characters you read about. I fell in love with my God given halo of hair;the afro. Two months later Taiye Selasi’s debut novel convinced me to grow dreadlocks. The books I read undoubtedly shaped my perspective and moulded me into the person I became. I am sure I went through the same journey of self actualisation as Elizabeth Gilbert in her Eat, Pray, Love. On TV recently I watched an interview where Chimamanda Adichie talked about the importance of books as opposed to movies and she is so right. I mean when I hear people say “the movie is not as good as the book” I wonder why they are stating the obvious. How can a movie director hope to duplicate the unbridled energy that comes with the formation of words into entire stories and entire lives.
With true reading comes the motivation to write. I realised after a while that there was nothing like fiction,every fictional piece is a metaphor of factual representation. There is a story behind every story, a theme, a purpose. There are the books that you read and how much they affect you that you simply want to reciprocate and affect the lives of others. I remember writing poems as a child and though you cannot compare the works of William Wordsworth to my doggerels nonetheless I was motivated to do better. I wrote stories , I wrote sequels, i even wrote plays at a point. I am not a Pulitzer winner and none of my stories have been featured in the New Yorker but my college essays did lead me here. For each A i got in my literature tests I was convinced that writing would feature a great part of who I would eventually become. It is a yearning in me , a fire that needs to be kindled, that hobby that never gets old.
As I grew older it grew beyond stories my exposure to blogs made me a little less narrow minded about the concept of homosexualism. I began to write about racism, the feminist principle, Scientology, Afrocentrism, neo-colonialism.I love that writing is so much of an art. I love that there is no failure, no specific formula for grading people’s works. You cannot say one person’s opinion is better than another s’ because the works of writers are just motivations of who they are within. Each time I add an entry to my journal I feel a heavy load being lifted from me, I feel much better, less disturbed by the punches life throws so often at me.
So each time I feel that thing around my neck, that yearning that threatens to consume me .I will clasp my pen in my hand and begin to pour out my soul on the thin leaves of my journal. I will make lighter the heavy loads of life on my back by writing down what I feel. It might not save the world but it will definitely save me.
“Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put together unless and until all living humans read the book…” – Fault In Our Stars.
Finally, I would say where you see a TABLET…I see a LIBRARY… And with that said I would put down the link to my favourite book application for smart phones and tablets… Your phone too could be your library..
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I have found a great ebook app for android device:【10000+ Free eBooks Reader】.
Maybe you like it, you can download it from the following url:
http://www.eprint-studio.com
What are you reading now?! I would love to know. 🙂
Have a blessed week ahead!
*Adriel*
October 6, 2014 at 11:47 am
Wonderful piece, your best yet. Passion has it place literary & yo just found it.
October 6, 2014 at 11:56 am
Thanks Chisco. I really appreciate.
October 6, 2014 at 12:04 pm
I am reading Nelson Mandela’s Long Walk to Freedom at the moment. Indeed reading makes a ready man. May your ink never run dry
October 6, 2014 at 12:15 pm
Good to know Mr. Prince. It makes a ready man indeed.Amen to the prayer. Thanks! 🙂
October 6, 2014 at 12:57 pm
good one Adriel….ifemelu d blogger….keep it up…I’m equally a book lover…dere is jus did excitement DAT comes from reading books….fell in love at a very young age…my library card got filled up twice…and dey refused to give me Anoda…*shrugs* ….I still gat my love for books…I also love owing dem…
October 6, 2014 at 1:04 pm
Thanks Zizi.. I still remember your stack of novels..
October 6, 2014 at 12:58 pm
dis* I meant
October 6, 2014 at 11:52 pm
Latest on my lectern is Ndibe’s Foreign Gods. I feel like rereading Soneyin’s The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives. It is stark, as impassioned as this candid piece of writing.
Thoughtful, Adriel. As steep as I can recollect, I’ve been so fascinated by narratives too. The masochistic poetry of classic minds and novels terribly orgasmic =-) I think I shall write a poem soon. To my lost books.
October 8, 2014 at 5:31 am
I’ll do well Oyin to read the books you mentioned. Thanks. And I’m glad you’re getting fascinated with narratives. Looking forward to reading your poem “To my lost books”
October 7, 2014 at 11:24 pm
The Fault in our Stars; really redemptive. Thank Adriel.
October 8, 2014 at 5:36 am
Anytime my dear. 🙂
November 12, 2014 at 6:05 am
Never knew you are gifted to piercing words which memory last than eternity. Keep it for offspring. Hoped to reading your crested leaves soonest.
November 12, 2014 at 6:10 am
Life is in pages: one page is a day after another till the end
November 12, 2014 at 6:13 am
Thanks Mr. Arbor.
November 12, 2014 at 6:15 am
Never knew you were gifted in piercing words which memory last than eternity. Keep it for the future. Hope to reading your crested leaves soonest.