Reading is NOT for losers

The extraordinary has happened.

I love to read- it is a pleasure that has been sacrificed for years, as I vivisected my attention span. Magazines and newspapers have absorbed most of my leisure reading, but my heart loves books. They take me new places, and link me with characters that my mundane routes would never touch. Somehow, sitting and escaping became a guilty pleasure- deferred and ignored. My book club allows me to justify at least one book a month- a paltry allowance. I have a stack of "to be read" books waiting for me that is at least 4 feet tall. Vacation generally allows me to plow through 3 or four, but at that rate, I will be buried with a library of unread books. I guess I will be cremated, since they could also function as kindling, and Steve is not likely to hit my Ann Patchett novels.

Steve often maintains that "reading is for losers", but he processes tons of information and prefers to shut down and absorb information passively. When he reads, he almost memorizes the content: it becomes a task. He has found a few books to love, but generally he scorns bookish pursuits.

Having finished Blink!, this month's book club selection, I pulled my book-in-waiting from the top of my pile, and started reading. The name of this book is The Art of Racing in the Rain, by Garth Stein. I loved it immediately- the narrator is a dog (Enzo), and he is a wise guy. It is a retrospective of his life, intertwined with his master, and the family he grows. Steve saw me reading it, knew I loved it, and he picked it up. He stole it, leaving me adrift in the lives of Enzo's people.

I have often suggested that Steve read to combat his insomnia, since it requires brain engagement, which tires most people. Wednesday Steve needed a nap, but instead he read that book cover to cover. That is a contemporary miracle!

I retrieved (dog talk) the book, and yesterday I sat outside and traveled through Enzo's life with him. This is a wonderful book- it asks very little of the reader and gives great pleasure and wisdom. Enzo's master is a car mechanic, who dreams of racing, but defers his dreams for family obligations. Stein could have been maudin or cutesy with his construct, but he is neither. If both Steve and Janet can get behind a book- in a big way- the book is a phenomena.

When I finished the book, I was sad. I remembered how wise Chamois our Golden Retriever had been, and how she telegraphed things to us. I missed her. I took stock of our current dogs- somewhat lacking soul, though full of spirit. Pat was working at the patio table, and he smiled at my sentimentality, but respected it with silence. It has to be weird to see your Mom weeping over a book. I needed Steve to be sad with- but he was walking. When he returned, he comforted me, and reminded me of all that was uplifting in the conclusion. Talk about a role reversal.....

What I am saying, is get this book. Read it, love it. Give yourself the gift of solitude. Get to know Enzo and his family. You will be rewarded. I promise. And if you want to thank me, or suggest a book for my pile of deferred gratification- janet@dahl.com. I'm there if you need to be comforted, too.


Click the article's title, and you will access the website of Racing. I do not like the voice reading the excerpt- not tough enough to be old Enz- but I love the video. It is just as I dreamed him!