Read It Again

I used to feel proud of how many books I read per year, and it’s still a popular thing for people to brag about today. Reading lots of books is good, sure, but I’m convinced that reading a smaller number of books over and over again might be even more valuable.

Reading lots of books is the easy part, but why do we read books? Why do you read books? Surely not to tell people that you’ve read them. I’ll assume that it’s to learn something new, to challenge your current biases, or to entertain yourself (amongst other things).

I just read The Egg by Andy Weir, and at first it just entertained me. I read it again and it started to make me think. I read it a third time and it started to connect with other ideas that had been wriggling up from the depths of my memories during the first two readings. What if I read it once per year (or per month, even—or every day)?

A handful of ideas taken seriously, I think, might be better than hundreds paid lip service. Read The Egg enough times and you start to wonder about yourself, the universe, and everything in it. It made me think about the times I could have been kinder to others, kinder to myself, and whether in principle they’re the same thing.

There are probably a handful of books or stories (maybe fewer) that really feel as though they’ve changed me, and I tend to read them more than once. Between readings I might change, or the world might change, or (usually the case) both might have changed. The story hasn’t changed, of course, but it might still feel different each time you read it.

As I get older I find myself seeking out simple rules that I can follow often, simple stories to revisit often, and simple pleasures to indulge in. Which stories have changed you, and when was the last time you read them? If you read them again today, what might they teach you?