Shipmate

It has been a long break, best beloved. A long time since I’ve set forth on a voyage toward a book. Over a year ago, I signed off, vowing to return, and so I have. The number of readers who have visited my site in the interim has overwhelmed me.

Thank you.

After such a break, I should take some space to state again what this project is about. I am a writer and a reader. When I like a work of fiction, I want to think about why it works for me. So, in these pages, I write about novels, sometimes short stories, that I like—I have no interest in writing snarky putdowns of books I dislike. Those I do not read. I generally write about books I have read more than once, and I may describe endings in such a way that a warning of “spoiler alert” will be warranted now and then. I want to look at the structure of a book, how time is handled, the style, the development of the characters.

Why read a book twice? you ask.

Some books do not need a second read. Stories that are strongly focused toward an ending, like mysteries and thrillers, may give their greatest pleasures the first time, when there’s suspense, less so when the suspense is gone.

Recently, I’ve been reading a book called “Re-Reading,” by Matei Calinescu, which presents some interesting ideas about the differences between a first-time read vs. re-reading. Reading a text for the first time is distinct from re-reading because the first time, you do not know the ending. Re-reading on the other hand, allows you to appreciate the story more as a whole made of parts, the chapters, sections, paragraphs, etc. Knowing how a story ends allows you to understand how the parts go together. The first time one reads a story is more of a linear, line-by-line experience of “where is this going?” In recent weeks, I’ve read several books for the first time, including the one I want to talk about today. I found myself intrigued by not knowing the ending and wondering what it would be. This curiosity, along with the quality of the writing and the strong characters, kept me going. Of course, this pre-supposes that one is reading a fiction that has that classic structure of characters transforming—where are they headed? What will become of them? What is the character arc?

Because a first-time reading is more linear, i.e., step by step, we are more conscious of time when we read it. We may look ahead, checking to see the total number of pages in the story and how many remain. “There are one-hundred seventy-three more pages, when am I going to find out what happens? It’s going to take days.”

Are particular books “worth” re-reading vs. others that are not? If so, how do the “re-reading” candidates indicate that status to the reader?

We must attempt to answer these important questions, my friends. Maybe not today.

Let’s look at a particular book, Frederick Busch’s 1999 novel “The Night Inspector.” But in regard to the above remarks, I have only read this book once (so far). And yes, especially in the second half, I was hooked by the plot and read on aggressively to find out what happens. A different experience for the old maestro, who has re-read Anna Karenina five times! (Stay away from train tracks!) Also, in my discussion of this book, I will not reveal the ending.

Gasps.

Or maybe I will. Ha!

This is definitely a book for those of the adult persuasion. At regular intervals, it portrays graphic acts of violence and sexual acts. Be warned, gentle souls.

More gasps.

In “Re-reading,” Mr. Calinescu describes the claim that all reading is re-reading, that the idea of an innocent reading, devoid of pre-conceptions, is, well, a fiction. There are always reasons why we select a book to read. A friend may recommend it, telling us how enjoyable it was. If we’re somewhat oppositional, we may choose to read a book because someone pans it. We may read a review that recommends we run to read the story under discussion. We may have read other books by an author, appreciated them, and want more. If a story deals with real historical events that we are familiar with, we may read in order to see how the author handles them. All these cases provide us with pre-conceptions about the book in hand.

However, Mr. Calinsecu also presents the idea that there is a distinction between a first and second read. A first read involves deciphering the single, linear text and understanding how it refers to the real world. (mimesis, if you will. We will!). A re-reading involves interpretation of sub-text, a deeper understanding of the book’s meanings. Semiosis, best B. A more personal process; instead of trying to fit a story to reality, we attempt to fit the story to our own system of meaning and belief.

Well. The clock on the clubhouse wall says it’s time to stop. In all seriousness, I try to keep these posts around one thousand words so that I don’t get a lot of complaint.

Next time, we will get more into The Night Inspector. I will begin a second reading and offer thoughts on the difference between first and second.

Till then.