Reading a new book is like a roller coaster ride – the swoops and thrills, the fluttering in the stomach, the screaming, the thumping hearts, and the sheer giddiness of it all. Reading a new book is a joy, an exploration, a discovery. You don’t know what’s next, and what it’ll be like, but as long as it’s there, you’re along for the ride, and lovin’ every moment of it.
Re-reading a book, by contrast, might sound utterly boring. Where’s the newness, you’ll ask. Where’s the excitement? You already know what’s going to happen, where’s the suspense?! All I can say is, yes, re-reading is not a roller coaster ride. Re-reading a favorite story is like a walk in your neighbourhood park. You know where exactly the see-saw is, you know the kids who play there every evening, their carefree laughter and games. You know the mothers who bring their adorable babies in prams, the best spot to watch the sun set. Yes, there’s no adrenaline rush here. But you still go to the park once in a while, to relax, to unwind … just because it’s old and familiar.
So while reading something for a very first time is an experience in itself, it’s nice to re-read … and then re-re-read … go back to what is predictable and known, go back to something warm and comfortable. It’s like going back home and being hugged by your mom. Like drinking warm milk on a cold winter night. Like finding an old sweater in the attic, the one which you used to wear all the time a few years ago, and putting it on again, and even though it’s a little too snug now, it feels soft and warm and so comforting.
And therein lies my justification for reading my favorite books over and over again. 🙂
Sunlit Prism 