All About Books discussion

I tried using the questions first, but as usually happens when I let my brain have precedence, I kept overthinking it (thinking and thinking). The journey was taking me forever. So in interest of getting this done, I decided to dispense with the questions and just write free form. It might feel verbose and haphazard, but the journey came to me more naturally this way, sort of as a story of what certain books meant to me at some key points in my life, more of a dog’s eye view than a bird’s eye view. I hope it’s OK - some of you might bear with me . . . .

My parents and siblings didn’t read much; so my first memories of books came through school. One of my grade school teachers started to read A Wrinkle in Time to our class, one chapter at a time, toward the end of the period. At first I was pretty indifferent, but soon enough I was enthralled, imagining Meg stepping through the tesseract and Mrs. Whatsit’s enfolding wings of light. For a fanciful child like me, it was a perfect fit! In no time at all, I was ceaselessly pestering my parents to get me a copy of the book. One chapter a week was not enough! It’s a crime I don’t remember that teacher’s name! She was so kind. She encouraged me in many ways, enrolling me in a volunteer program to read to younger kids, and giving me books to take home. What a wonderful teacher she was! It was during this period that I read the The Chronicles of Narnia and Out of the Silent Planet / Perelandra / That Hideous Strength books by C. S. Lewis as well as the The Lord of the Rings trilogy by Tolkien for the first time.

When I was in junior high school, we moved from the suburbs of Chicago to an unincorporated region of North Carolina, an area so newly developed that it wasn’t yet part of any town or city . . . out the back window of our house, nothing but miles and miles of dark pines. Some neighbors on the next street had a barbeque a few weeks after we’d moved in, and I still remember the firm shoulder grip, the manly slap, guiding me forward to the men around the barbeque. I remember looking at the poor pig, the eye gelatin black and glistening in the sockets, a big apple shoved up its throat, and just thinking, crap. My instincts were quite right. I didn’t understand analytically, but somehow I felt how things would be. I was going to be expected to say things but with no idea what, expected to behave in certain ways but with no idea how. It was a situation I was already familiar with, but here it was worse. At every turn, I found myself doing the wrong things, not even knowing what those wrong things were. I took refuge in the school library. After being exposed to a short story in English class, I sought out different books, ones that I’d previously assumed to be boring. I discovered that Edith Wharton, Kate Chopin, and other similar authors engrossed me. Intuitively, I felt that I knew what all these stories were about: women that were forbidden to do what was natural to them. They knew the piano music they were expected to play, but their fingers rebelled, became wooden, slipped on the keys and struck the awful sharp note with everyone’s eyes upon them. They were somehow unwilling or unable to play the right songs, perhaps both. I so loved these women! The House of Mirth and The Awakening were new favorites. Meanwhile I kept reading fantasy books as well.

My parents, sensing my difficulty with the move, enrolled me in three or four different team sports. Unfortunately, this backfired in a big way. Although I discovered much later that I did well with individual sports (such as skiing and rock climbing), at team sports, my performance was painful to watch. In basketball, I remember trying to run around as much as possible to look like I was trying hard. It was my main objective, that and to strenuously avoid any possibility of encountering the ball. Once in baseball, a fly ball actually hit me in the chest as I was staring into space, daydreaming. LOL. Extremely mortifying, but I didn’t care much. It was all fine because I’d go out to the forest with my best friend, and we’d sit for hours cross-legged in a clearing. He’d sketch and I’d read, nothing above us but the great dark branches and the hiss of wind through the pines. It was there in that perfect place that I read the Free Renunciates trilogy: The Shattered Chain, Thendara House, and City of Sorcery by Marion Zimmer Bradley. I devoured these books about the Free Amazons of Darkover. The first page of each one had a full copy of the Free Amazons’ oath. Picture a 1970’s era women’s commune (with all of its issues) dropped into the middle of the medieval ages with one key exception: all of the commune’s women adept with blades. Years later, I named my first cat after a character from those books – intrepid Magdalena Lorne. Such silly, enchanting books, but they went off with the force of an exploding star in my brain! They were fateful. I wasn’t aware of it, but my focus shifted. I became less interested in playing the right songs; instead, I started searching for different songs altogether, ones I could play. I started sitting in the mall bookstore and scouring the backs of books. And so I came across Diving Into the Wreck by Adrienne Rich. For the first time, I read these lines from her title poem:

  First the air is blue and then
  it is bluer and then green and then
  black I am blacking out and yet
  my mask is powerful
  it pumps my blood with power . . . .

  And I am here, the mermaid whose dark hair
  streams black, the merman in his armored body . . . .

  I am he: I am she . . . .

A chill slid down my back like ice; it was astonishing – fierce and intelligent, brave! I switched to prowling the poetry and literature sections of the bookstore, flipping to random pages and reading a paragraph or two, looking for another miracle. I remember the first time I read Woolf, I was absolutely transported - her soaring, glorious imperfection, the tendrils of words probing deep, enveloping a thousand worlds inside a thousand heads. Here for the first time I met Orlando, a man who became a woman that fell in love with a woman who became a man. Here in The Waves, mingling voices pulled like currents, the book’s power in their net force. I was too young to understand much when I first read them, but even the slight glimpses I managed to get were wild with magic!

I also encountered Carl Jung at that time, and he was a big influence on me as well. I think I understood even less of Jung than I did of Woolf then, but some of his key ideas managed to shine through by dint of their sheer incandescent power. I read eagerly of the anima and animus, the opposite-gender expressions of the unconscious. His complex (and I think in many ways accurate) understanding of gender and the human mind were comforting – then, they made problems feel like puzzles, and puzzles can be solved. Now, I understand his works better, and my favorite book by him is the fascinating series of essays on dream analysis, Dreams.

To this day, I greatly appreciate the expressions of male tenderness and female strength (which Jung considers expressions of the anima and animus) that are so common in poetry. When I first read the poem “Revelation” from James Wright’s wonderful book Saint Judas, I didn’t understand what it was really about – his making peace with and forgiving his father. But despite my restricted understanding, the tender and heartfelt language still arrested me:

  And weeping in the nakedness
  Of moonlight and of agony,
  His blue eyes lost their barrenness
  And bore a blossom out to me.
  And as I ran to give it back,
  The apple branches, dripping black,
  Trembled across the lunar air
  And dropped white petals on his hair.

Such crazy power in those lines! Now that I’m old enough to understand what Wright meant, the poem means even more to me. Just typing the lines gives me chills.

I’m beginning to sense a serious drawback in this free form approach – I could go on forever. So I think I’ll abridge myself and jump forward to my early twenties. At that age, I had two twin obsessions.

My first obsession as a young adult - I had known too many people that lived their lives like Godzilla. Their metaphorical story went something like this on infinite loop: they felt a painful sting on their flank. In pain, they threw themselves up from the sea with a wild screech, the dark water running from their back, and stumbled to the city. Then – thrash, crush, destroy! For the most part, none of them were bad people, but a quote from Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray comes to mind: “Life is not governed by will or intention. Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly built up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams.” So my first obsession was to understand who I was so I could understand what I was doing. I still believe this is vital – stories make us aware of who we are so that unexpected reactions don’t well up whole and unknown from our inner darkness. Many turn to Dostoevsky for such questions of human psychology, but my choice at that time was Joesph Conrad, and my favorite book was Lord Jim. I suspect I loved all the numerous perspectives and viewpoints, all the meticulously wrought facets of the book, as well as the deep sense of buried compassion I find in his writing. Even now, I think it’s a masterpiece, but I have to admit that when I re-read it recently, I did find myself thinking in a few spots, oh Conrad, it’s not that bad. My view of humankind is not nearly as dark as it used to be.

My second obsession as a young adult was mysticism. This obsession hasn’t dimmed much. My nature has a strong religious bent, despite the fact that it hasn’t always been convenient for me, but I don’t regret it. In fact, I suspect that a large part of Jung’s subconscious appeal for me was his close proximity to mysticism. I like poetry’s capacity to strip away the surface junk and help me see clearly. I’ll let Denise Levertov explain as she’s far more eloquent:

  I saw a new world
  for a while – it was

  the gold light on a rocky slope,
  the road-constructors talking to each other,

  bear-brown of winter woods, and later
  lights of New Jersey factories and the vast

  December moon. I saw
  without words within me, saw

  as if my eyes
  had grown bigger and knew

  how to look without
  being told what it was they saw.

(continued below)

(continued from above)

I cherish writers like Levertov who are capable of inducing a mental state exactly like she describes. That fragment comes from “A Letter to William Kinter of Muhlenberg” in The Jacob's Ladder. It’s a tough job to choose a favorite book of hers, but Jacob’s Ladder is definitely a top contender. Other religious themed works I deeply appreciate: Siddhartha by Hesse, John Donne's series of Holy Sonnets, and the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins. In terms of the Christian Bible itself, I have an extremely difficult time understanding much of the Old Testament, but I can’t get through the book of Ruth without crying. It’s a short and remarkably touching book. I also love the synoptic gospels, particularly the metaphoric and symbolic language. For instance, in gospel of Matthew: “The eye is the lamp of the body; so then if your eye is clear, your whole body will be full of light.” Beautiful!

Any kind of fables appeal to me as well, whether Gilgamesh, the wonderful translation of Beowulf: A New Verse Translation by Seamus Heaney, or the odd, baroque collection of fairy tales, The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories by Angela Carter. In Carter's book, "The Tiger's Bride" is a special treat.

OK, I need to get to bed; so I have to wrap this up. I’ll finish by tossing out a random list of some other favorites:

  Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston: there’s a hurdle of dialect to get through, but if the hurdle can be gotten past, what’s left is an incredibly touching story full of figurative language and captivating verbal displays. It’s a vernacular fireworks from beginning to end.

  A Separate Peace by John Knowles: this book is routinely taught in the American school system, but I don’t know if it’s taught at an age where it can be properly appreciated. This book is beautiful and subtle; as a psychological study, it’s devastatingly fine.

  The Story of an African Farm by Olive Schreiner: this has to be the oddest Victorian novel ever written - structurally innovative, undeniably flawed but lovely, and extremely daring in subject matter.

   An Elegy Written In A Country Churchyard by Thomas Gray: beautiful in both subject and expression; I have never tired of this poem.

  Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlowe: perhaps my favorite play

  The Hearing Trumpet by Lenora Carrington: an odd book by the famous Surrealist visual artist (and coincidentally a close friend of my favorite painter Remedios Varo) about women who rebel from an old age home. It has one of the most enchanting beginnings I’ve ever encountered. The middle drags, but the beginning is so funny and wonderful that I excuse it.

  Equus by Peter Shaffer: a very disturbing but fascinating play

  Shakespeare's Sonnets by William Shakespeare: difficult but inexpressibly wonderful

  Riders to the Sea by J W Synge: a short play that’s just devastating - remarkable dignity and beauty

  In Memoriam by Lord Alfred Tennyson: an incredibly tender book length poem written by Tennyson upon a close friend’s death

  The Life of Poetry by Muriel Rukeyser: a enthralling wide-ranging meditation on the nature of poetry by the American poet Muriel Rukeyser. Her own poetry is also intriguing, but if I had to choose one of her books, this would be it.

  The Onion Girl by Charles de Lint: one of my favorite fantasy books

And here we are - anyone who has lasted to the end of this rambling discursive tract, I shake your hand with a smile on my face. Thank you for slogging through it! You have my gratitude!

Liked reading your journey, it is so personal. Thanks for sharing a piece of your life with us.
I like above all when I find other people who talk about books that have changed their lives or that helped to understand better oneself. These are very precious moments and I think also that such books mustn't be reread: they arrive in the right moment of our life, when we need them and rereading them after some years isn't the same because in the meanwhile we have changed; in this moment we must wait for other lifechanging books.

I've added The Hearing Trumpet in my wishlist, it seems very interesting.

Oh wow Greg! Despite your apologetic start, you have written my favourite "reading journey" so far! I really feel I know you now, through your passion for the books, and how they supported you at various stages of your life.

It's such a wonderful piece to share - a raw and painful picture in parts - but the sheer humanity, and yes, "journey" through life with the books, shines out.

Prosaically, I shared your childhood favourites, got a bit lost in your teenage years, but back on track with your young adult reading The Picture of Dorian Gray, Orlando, Doctor Faustus, Equus - all great imaginative stuff. Shakespeare, William, John Donne, An Elegy Written In A Country Churchyard - oh what's not to like here?!

I'm searching for more details on some of the works I do not know. And thank you too for the great insights you have on poetry, as well as those conveyed in this fantastic *no I'm not sparing your blushes!* account :)

Greg: great! Lved to hear from you real voice you love for books, as well as you story so far... I'll have to re-read it more than once!

Thanks dely, Jean, and Laura for your kind words!

I usually don't tell these stories to people until I've known them for years, but I'm finding Goodreads lowers my inhibitions. It's somehow impossible for me to talk in depth about books without revealing myself, perhaps because the reading experience is sacred to me.

I wonder what my friends I've met through my engineering job would make of this post. I've known them and played cards with them for years, but I'd never think of telling them these things. I'd feel crazy exposed! I'm glad none of them are on Goodreads :)

Thanks for making me feel welcome in AAB!

And Jean I am blushing - your comments moved me deeply!

I feel exactly the same way, Greg ;) Your childhood experience with the barbequed pig hit a raw nerve with me. As a tiny tot I got very upset and refused to ever go into the butchers' shop, once I realised that yes, the smelly bloody bits of revolting stuff were the same as those fluffy baa-lambs and cows we'd seen in the fields the other day. I could never be sent shopping for meat, even when older!

I still have to take a breath walking past old-fashioned butchers' shops - however pristine - with their sawdust floors. Today's children are perhaps "spared" that experience through shopping at supermarkets' clinical plasticised meat counters. They are desensitised to it at an early age.

Fortunately, although my parents did not share my views, they were sensitive to what I was experiencing. My Dad was particularly supportive, getting information for me about a possible Vegetarian lifestyle in my early teens. (I became Veggie in my 20's) and becoming so interested in the subject himself that he refused his beloved bacon after he had seen farrowing pens, and became a speaker on behalf of the RSCPCA in schools after he retired.

I do realise of course that this was symbolic for you - an example - and maybe not even quite as significant an episode for you in later life. But to me it points up the difference between having those around who share the sensitivity, even if they don;t feel the same way, and feeling totally alienated as a small child. I was so lucky :)

I totally knew what you meant about the constraints of the questions! For my own "reading journey" recently I tried to stick to them, but found that great areas of my life were missing so what I appear to have read has big holes of maybe a whole decade... And it had to be posted over about 3 slots as it was so long! Should have stuck to a free-form approach like you ;)

Greg ,
Thanks so much for sharing your reading journey and also part of yourself . I remember reading A Wrinkle in Time and I love Their Eyes Were Watching God .

I'll be checking out your other favorites .

I'm totally captivated by your reading journey, Greg. My immediate reaction to it is: you should be a writer (forgive me if I didn't know that you are already famous!) I love the candor with which you shared your reading and life journey with us, for which I thank you.

Your passion with poetry has certainly rubbed off on me, who hitherto have been a non-convert (except perhaps for Chinese poetry). Little by little, I am beginning to appreciate the beauty of some of the poems that you shared. I am hoping to continue to learn from you in this respect.

I love that quotation from The Picture of Dorian Gray, which reminds me of Blaise Pascal's wise saying:"The heart has reasons that reason (the mind) knows nothing about. ("Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison no connait point."), as well as of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's quote from The Little Prince: "One does not see well except with one's heart. The essential is invisible to the eyes." ("On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur; l'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.")

Greg wrote: "Thanks dely, Jean, and Laura for your kind words!

I usually don't tell these stories to people until I've known them for years, but I'm finding Goodreads lowers my inhibitions. It's somehow impos..."

And in my opinion you are also among people that understand you; perhaps it's also because of this that you can talk freely about your reading/life experience. I'm like you and I talk about books that opened my eyes or touched me deep inside only with people I know would understand. Unfortunately it isn't always easy to find such people around us in "real life" (though I don't like to use this expression but it is to explain better what I mean).
Sometimes I also hate to borrow books in which I have underlined a lot of sentences. It is as if I allow people to enter my mind or my heart; I feel like someone invades my inner life that I don't want to show to everyone.

That's very perceptive, dely...

Jean wrote: "That's very perceptive, dely..."

Thanks ;)

@Jean, thanks for sharing about the butcher shop - I can see how that would be traumatic, and I think you are exactly right. It is the sensitivity that's important - you had such a wonderful dad! My mom had a lot of problems when I was younger; so she wasn't capable of much then, but I feel blessed to have a very respectful, loving, close relationship with both my parents now. It's a gift that's perhaps made even sweeter by having to wait for it, if that makes sense.

I'm not a vegetarian myself, though I sympathize. I've been debating whether to give my cousin's kids a DVD of the wonderful movie Babe - have you seen it? Such a sweet, wonderful movie and for a children's movie quite profound. Great life lessons! But I've been holding off until I'm sure they're old enough to handle the animals as food concepts.

@Angela, thanks!

@dely, I think you're right. I have some very close friends, but since joining Goodreads last year, I've been discovering how special it is to connect with other readers. I'm loving AAB!

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Greg. What a wonderfully honest and moving journey you have written for us. I feel like I know the Greg who likes poetry and cats so much better now. Your journey imparts such an insight into your formation as a person and a reader. Personally, I'd have a 'reading' man over a 'barbeque' man any day of the week.

C S Lewis, Tolkien, Wharton, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Woolf, Wilde, Conrad, Hopkins, Hesse and Donne; gosh, you and I have been having a readalong over the years. I have not read many of your random list of favorites but have A Separate Peace on my tbr.

I have to say that those who know you in 'real' life are very lucky people:)

Thank you for your journey, Greg. You write very well and it was interesting to learn about your passions and where they came from

@Alice, thanks so much - your kind words about my writing touched my heart! And I love the Blaise Pascal and Little Prince quotes!

I'm not by any means professional writer ... though I do write. But my motivation is usually something like the painter Dora Carrington who decorated fireplaces, bookplates, and gramophone cabinets for the ones she loved.

Generally I've written things for specific people I loved at key moments to express things that were too complex to be explained directly.

I wrote a autobiographical novelette in my early 20s, and I left the only copy at my mother's house. I think it might have been the primary force behind our eventual reconciliation. After reading it, she softened - I think she understood and trusted me enough to open up in turn, and we were gradually able to speak the truth and heal.

I also wrote a fable for my first love - a story about a seal that came out of the ice to walk among people, his efforts to assimilate, the strange man who found him that didn't notice his awkwardness, and the vast, dark world beneath the ice. His mother liked it so much she started passing it around her circle of friends in Hawaii.

I don't think I have enough talent for professional writing (not false modesty - just truth), but I do hope I'm a decent ameteur, and there's plenty of pleasure to be gotten from that too!

I am learning from you as well Alice ... and from everyone in this wonderful group! Looking forward to the Zola readalong in September!

Thanks Heather!

And thanks Bette for your wonderfully sweet comments! I am looking forward to many readalongs with you on AAB in future! :)

Greg wrote: "@Alice, thanks so much - your kind words about my writing touched my heart! And I love the Blaise Pascal and Little Prince quotes!

I'm not by any means professional writer ... though I do write. B..."

Greg, you are far too modest. Your writing clearly shows that it has the power to touch hearts. Your modesty is making me blush - with my amateurism I was presumptuous enough to publish a full-length novel. But I'm really having second thoughts about whether I have what it takes to be a novelist...

I'm really happy for you that your mother and you were able to patch things up.

I too am very pleased you have reconciled and have a good relationship with your parents, Greg. Nobody is ever the same and we miss them when they go, whenever that is.

Babe? A great story. Maybe get them the book too, by Dick King-Smith? "The Sheep-Pig"

@Alice, you are not presumptuous!! There is never harm in trying, and I think I'm often too cautious, too hesitant. Seize your opportunities! There's nothing better in life than someone who is both compassionate and brave - those are the people that make the world work. Do not let me dissuade you from your passion for writing!

I for one would love to buy your book :)

Interesting to read through the Reading Journey. I specially liked the part where you speak of Religious themed books. And I appreciate you for adoring the play that I too adore - Doctor Faustus.

Thanks Dhanaraj! Doctor Faustus is a wonderful play!

@Jean, I didn't know that was based a book! I think I'll read it too!

Hi Greg, I loved the free form approach. To be honest I can better relate to your books at young age and early twenties. We share a lot of similar authors. I'm yet to read Wrinkle in Time. I only discovered some of these earlier you mentioned in my late teens to teenage years. I wish now that there was something like Goodreads around when I was a child. But I'm glad that I've found it now- still can read and reread certain with fresh eyes and different life view.

I feel that some of your tastes are light years ahead of me, can't get into poetry, Jung I think is too mystic for me.

Great to have read your journey. Maybe in a few months you can tell us about your experience since joining. And don't feel bad about be so open, it just shows that this is the forum that you needed to speak about your love for books and how it has shaped you. Something I think we all can relate with.

Thanks June! I know what you mean about wishing you had Goodreads as a child. There was no Internet at all when I was young; it could be pretty hard to find information or community!

And not everyone will like poetry or Jung. Myself, I have a hard time getting into a lot of non-fiction. I sometimes think I could learn a lot more things if I liked it better, but that's just me. Unless it's told like fiction or I have a strong personal connection to the material, I have a tough time. One of the great things I'm finding in All About Books is that we all have much in common, but we're all different too! How does the saying go - variety is the spice of life!

I noticed The Pilgrim's Progress is on your profile favorites - it is a great work of faith!

Greg wrote: "I noticed The Pilgrim's Progress is on your profile favorites - it is a great work of faith!
"

It is really far from our "catholic" culture that in Italy almost no one know it. I remember realising that it was a really famous book the one the Little Women were reading trough the whole of the novel only when in University studying English literature! I read it then, and even if I'm not reliious, I found it really interesting!

I remember a kid playing a board game version of The Pilgrim's Progress! I really wish I could find one again - maybe I'll see one some day in a "Museum of childhood" and let out an excited squeak! John Bunyan was born in Elstow - a pretty little village not far from here.

Yes, Dick King-Smith wrote some great kids' books - check him out! But I did find his autobiography Chewing the Cud: An Extraordinary Life Remembered by the Author of Babe: The Gallant Pig a bit depressing.

Gosh, a board game of Pilgrim's Progress. That sounds good. I have an abridged version that was my mum's when she was a girl. Someone has coloured in the pictures, was it her or me? I don't remember doing it, but maybe I did,

Oh Gill that sounds familiar too! I don't suppose you could put a picture up could you (Don't worry if not - I haven't got the hang of that either! LOL) I think the board game opened out into three, with really enthralling pictures (to a child, anyway!)

Oh and maybe not here on Greg's slot... sorry Greg!

No problems Jean and Gill - you can post it anywhere you like. I'm curious to see it too!

Greg wrote: "No problems Jean and Gill - you can post it anywhere you like. I'm curious to see it too!"

It's on the General Chat thread. I at last seem reasonably ok at following the instructions Leslie gave me about uploading photos. Thanks for your patience and perseverance, Leslie.

Gill wrote: "Greg wrote: "No problems Jean and Gill - you can post it anywhere you like. I'm curious to see it too!"

It's on the General Chat thread. I at last seem reasonably ok at following the instructions ..."

No problem Gill! :D

Great journey Greg! I love the narrative style; I can see the kid who ran around the basketball court trying to avoid the ball :) And so many good books it is hard to pick out individual ones to comment on... but I will say that Adrienne Rich is one of the poets I remember from my school days. I love her poem Planetarium.

Thanks Leslie! Adrienne Rich was a strong woman! She could be a bit difficult - if I recall correctly, she turned down the National Medal of the Arts for some political reason or other - but despite being cantankerous at times, she always came from a place of integrity and compassion. Plus I think her poetry is just beautiful!

Really interesting read Greg.

Thanks Allanah!

I only just noticed this thread, so sorry for the delay in reading and replying!

I echo all the sentiments above, what a great reading journey you've given us and an insight into your life. That's what I love most about reading these, that we get to know one another a little more beyond our book likes. I agree that you're a talented writer too.

As for the books, there's quite a few you've mentioned that have been on my shelf for a while and a few new ones to me too. So thanks for the recommendations and a huge thanks for writing such a wonderful and unique account of your reading life :)

Thanks so much Pink! :)

Your reading journey was fantastic. Thank you for sharing this exactly the way you did.

Thanks Kalena!

This is a great reading journey Greg. Beautifully told!

Thanks Charbel!

Thank you so much Greg for sharing such personal memories with us. I understand what a vulnerable feeling that is, to reveal things that are deeply sacred to you.

Also, the way you described many of these books made me want to check them out! So thanks for that as well :)

Shannon, thanks so much! :)

Greg, I am just re-reading this now and just wanted to thank you for your honesty. Your reading journey is just what this section is about - getting to know one another through sharing about the one thing that unites us all in this group. I meant to comment when I first read it, but I think it was one of those times when you write a long comment and then manage to lose it before you hit "post", so in the end it just didn't happen!

I too loved CS Lewis and Tolkein as a young person but apart from that I have not ready many of the books you mention, except I read "Their Eyes Were Watching God" quite recently and thought it was excellent.

Thanks again for taking part in this!

Thanks Shirley! :)

I hate it when I lose comments before I hit "post" like that; that happens to me sometimes too. So frustrating!

Greg, I've just now stumbled on your reading journey, and I want to thank you for such thoughtful and deep comments. I also grew up in a suburb of Chicago--we moved to Columbus, Ohio when I was 15. (Talk about trauma!) It was in nursing school that I first learned about Carl Jung, and he's been a lifelong interest of mine. When I was 40 years old I was in therapy for a while with a Jungian analyst. Fascinating.

Thanks Terri :)

Jung is indeed fascinating! - all of the emphasis on symbolism and dreams appeals to my temperament - much less crass and single-minded than Freud.

Greg, I feel as if I've been eavesdropping on your extraordinary journey. Thank you for sharing such an open, heartfelt message. The twists and turns, quests and adventures you've experienced...marvelous!

"It was a dark and stormy night." Such a magical phrase; one that cast a spell of enchantment over so many young children...the opening line to A Wrinkle in Time. I was in third grade when first introduced to her "book that almost wasn't". Can you imagine if that award-winning tale had never been published? For 2 years Madeleine L'Engle received one rejection after another...almost gave up on it. (A wonderful lesson in persistence for us all.) Decades later, while browsing in a Barnes & Noble, I saw a copy of A Wrinkle in Time. Brought back so many fond memories that I bought it, and read it again. (Just as good as I remembered, and still proudly displayed on my bookshelf at home.)

Like you, went thru Shakespeare, then on to some of Jung's work, which lead me to the study of myths and stories as symbols and archetypes for life. (You might also enjoy books by mythologist and scholar Joseph Campbell who greatly influenced George Lucas during creation of the Star Wars saga.)

And here we all are, people from all walks of life and the "ends of the earth", together in this group, regardless of the path we followed to get here.