I’m not really the kind of person to make resolutions for the New Year, because they get broken by January 2. I think the Fates love to tempt me. The moment I vow never to do this particular thing again, the opportunity comes up and I’d be too weak to say no.
Which says much about my character, but what the hell. That’s not even the point of this post.
Yesterday, my professor ranted angrily at the terrible state of literacy in the country. By “literate” I do not mean the mediocre “can read and write his/her name” standard that we often evoke. People who’ve graduated from college can barely be called literate, considering the way people disregard books and prefer the chewed-up version directors and their film crew spew out each day.
I’ve always loved books since I was kid, starting with the “I Can See” series. I was never the rowdy type, and I’d be contented sitting in one corner with some books the entire day. My mom says I could read even before I could talk or walk straight, though how they know that I have no idea. By grade school I was asking people to give me books instead of toys for my birthday.
But books are quite a luxury. Not even children’s books come cheap. It’s a little frustrating when you see bratty, illiterate classmates with beautiful, interesting AND expensive books for their book reports. It was then that I sought different avenues to fulfill my “literary” needs.
I became a regular at the school’s pathetic, one-room library.
The state of the library in my high school is certainly an indicator of how the world in general views reading. The books were in terrible shape, barely filling six four-level shelves. When it rains the library gets flooded and nobody even cares that the books get wet. In real life, people look at readers and see geeks.
Well then, I look at people who hate books and see idiots.
My professor was practically gagging at the fact that we hadn’t read any of the Chinese classics (the class is on the Society and Culture of China). And so, being a little miffed at the realization that I had not read ENOUGH books in my life, I decided to come up with a list of “must-reads” before the year ends.
- Romance of the Three Kingdoms
- Water Margin
- Dream of the Red Mansions
- Journey to the West
- The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (read in part) ~Haruki Murakami
- The Elephant Vanishes ~Haruki Murakami
- Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman ~Haruki Murakami
- Dance Dance Dance ~Haruki Murakami
- After the Quake ~Haruki Murakami
- Kafka on the Shore ~Haruki Murakami
- After Dark ~Haruki Murakami
- The Nanking Massacre: Fact vs. Fiction: A Historian’s Quest for The Truth ~Higashinakano Shudo
I can’t think of anything else right now, and I haven’t even included anything local. Suggestions are entirely welcome.
January 13th, 2007 at 11:17 pm
The first Murakami book I read was ‘Norwegian Wood’ (Beatles reference, so it’s no surprise I was drawn to it), and then I began reading every Murakami book I could get my hands on. I’ve read ‘Dance Dance Dance’, ‘Kafka on the Shore’, ‘A Wild Sheep Chase’ and ‘The Wind-up Bird Chronicle’. And when I think about the fact that what I’m reading is a translation, I envy those who actually get to read him in the original.
I also like Ian McEwan. He’s twisted, in a really good way. As an introduction, I would recommend ‘Enduring Love’ or ‘Amsterdam’.
On your school library: I can totally relate. I spent high school in the boonies (okay, Legazpi City) and there was no decent bookstore. Actually, no bookstore, period. My only choice was the school library, which wasn’t that extensive to begin with. I got to read Shakespeare and J.D. Salinger, but of course when I got to college I felt woefully inadequate. (Remember Big Mac’s class and ‘Heart of Darkness’? Practically everyone complained about that but I loved it.)
I don’t understand why some people don’t like to read. It like saying you don’t like to breathe. I guess that explains the increasing number of stupid people in the world.
January 14th, 2007 at 9:45 pm
Exactly. I am trying to catch up on some classics right now, so I bought a copy of Kafka’s short stories (for only 75pesos!! and unabridged, though translated of course) as well as those by Maupassant (I love Maupassant, especially La Mere Sauvage). I also bought 1984, which is a tragic remnant of my years in that pathetic library. We didn’t have anything remotely decent, meaning we didn’t have anything by George Orwell, and the King Lear I read in that library (the only copy, along with the Tempest) was a comic book version.
So we might say I’m making up for that “deprived” era.
January 15th, 2007 at 10:46 am
My library didn’t even have George Orwell. I had to steal ‘1984′ from my cousin (meaning I borrowed his copy and conveniently forgot to return it). Pitiful, really. Hurrah for Booksale, though. I bought a copy of Simone de Beauvoir’s ‘The Second Sex’ for P95; a friend who majored in Philosophy wanted to kill me when I told her. She ordered her copy online and it cost a fortune.