Books That Draw Us Back

Of the roughly fifteen hundred books on my shelves, I’ve read at least half of them more than once, and many I’ve read three or more times. Sometimes I only review the underlined passages and the notes scribbled in the margins—always in pencil, since ink bleeds through paper like a bruise. But usually I read every page. What draws me back to favorite books of prose as well as poetry might be the rich quality of the language, the striking metaphors, elegant phrasing, vivid images, and the musical sound of the sentences. If the book is a work of fiction, I might reread it because I was fascinated by the characters or captivated by the story. If the book is nonfiction, I might take it up again because I was intrigued by the subject matter, enlightened by the argument, or impressed by the author’s wisdom.

I read for pleasure, mental travel, and knowledge, but above all I read for insight. The best books are inexhaustible, revealing new depths on each reading. They also reveal new dimensions in me, as I grow older and bring to the reading more life experience, including the experience of writing books of my own. Here is the Trappist monk Thomas Merton, himself a prolific author, coming upon such a revelatory book: “I went out this afternoon, read some stuff on meditation....Then came back and began a new Penguin containing Bashō’s travel notes. Completely shattered by them. One of the most beautiful books I have ever read in my life. It gives me a whole new (old) view of my own life. The whole thing is pitched right on my tone. Deeply moving in every kind of way. Seldom have I found a book to which I responded so totally.”

I drew this passage from The Intimate Merton: His Life from His Journals, edited by Patrick Hart and Jonathan Montaldo (HarperCollins, 1998), which I finished reading today for the third time. My hardcover edition of the book, with a photo of Merton in his monk’s garb on the cover, rests beside me on the desk as I type. Next to it is my well-thumbed copy of The Narrow Road to the Deep North, the book that Merton found “Deeply moving in every kind of way.” Written by the great Japanese writer Matsuo Bashō, it was published in 1966 as a Penguin Classic, in a translation by Nobuyuki Yuasa. You can be certain that Merton returned to this book more than once, as I have. Any book that affects one profoundly on a first reading is likely to reward further visits.