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I have this irrational fear (so many of my posts here are based on my reading irrationalities) that if I re-read it, I’ll lose the magic of that book. I don’t want to tarnish the memories. Each re-read of a book speaks to you differently, and I want to hold onto exactly how these books spoke to me at a specific moment in time. So here are just a few books that were milestones in my world, reading-wise or otherwise, that I’m wary of picking up again.
From Losing the Magic by Amanda Nelson
As the RMS Titanic was sinking beneath surface of the North Atlantic Ocean on April 15, 1912 and survivors were thrashing about in the iceberg-clotted waters, what books might they have turned to with which to fashion a homemade life preserver or, in the case of some sturdy Theodore Dreiser novels, an entire raft?
From What Books Were People Reading on the Titantic? by David Abrams
From Book Fetish: Volume XXV by Brenna Kalmer
I can’t keep Tom Wolfe and Tom Robbins straight. One of them wore a white suit, but I don’t remember which. Also, when I think of Tom Robbins, I picture Tim Robbins circa The Shawshank Redemption.
From 7 of My Dirty Little Reading Secrets by Rebecca Joines Schinsky
Over two years we studied it, bled it dry, sucked what marrow there was out of it. By the time of the exam our essays on the folly of Casaubon’s work The Key To All Mythologies were learned joylessly by rote. Aged 18, I consigned Middlemarch into the mental folder marked ‘necessary evils of this world,’ alongside removal of wisdom teeth, having to hang up your uniform after school, rugby training on a wet Saturday morning in January, and realising the girls you fancy will always like the school bully much more than you.
From Books That School Ruined by Edd McCracken