TO READ IN EXILE

It is quiet in the Financial District on weekends, really the perfect place for privacy. Although sometimes privacy is overrated.  There are times I would rather be by myself, and times when I would prefer company. If the company were good company, it would be exceedingly pleasant to have far less time to myself.
But one does not get to choose.

Few people are content to let a person deep in a book alone.

They will nose over inquisitively, and start off with “what’s that you’re reading?” Then, without reflecting on the answer, they proceed to tell you about a volume they looked at once, a long time ago. It was very great literature.  Surely everyone who reads has heard of it. They recommend it sincerely.
Reference, dictionaries, history, and college texts just don’t cut it.
What was it called again? The Da Vinci Graph?
Anyway, it was super meaningful.
Totally OMG awesome.
You must agree!


As an illustration of horrible recommendations, let me direct you to a wonderful link:


THE TOP SIX CRAPPY BOOKS

http://www.amazon.com/Top-6-Crappy-Books/lm/3QCNEZ0VDLDNF

1. The book of Mormon.
2. Harry Potter.
3. My Brother Sam is Dead.
4. Bridge to Terabithia.
5. Dancing on the Edge.
6. Animorphs Box Set (Books 1 - 4).

Possibly you object to that list. Especially when you note that 'The Da Vinci Code' isn't mentioned, neither is 'Memoirs of a Geisha'. Both are certifiable codswallop. People who enjoyed either masterpiece may be beyond salvation, and must be utterly avoided.

Pedestrian prose, mono-dimensional characters, and limp plots, which not even the over-the-top descriptive language, romantic settings, and great events opportunistically co-opted by the shitty author, could redeem from the literary compost heap. Characters that so perfectly express the inner being of the person who invented them that they just will not die, and can not be killed.
Endings that leave you both drained and nauseated.
Horrible turgid balderdash.

Somewhere, somewhen, somebody is going to demand that you read something awful.
When you are demonstrably engaged in reading something better.

Reading is a dangerous gamble around other people. Especially if they won't be still.
I wouldn't mind someone who also reads, and has no cell-phone.
A person like that quite probably does not exist.

The office is a nice quiet place to read on a weekend, but evenso, it must sound loopy as all git-out when I ask myself out loud: "would you like another cup of tea?" And respond to the query by saying "why yes, I would, thank you, so very kind!"  How courteous!
Lots of hot cups. Go downstairs for the occasional smoke outside the building.
Then more tea, and several more chapters. The bright of day fades.
A last pipe-full in the semi-anonymity of the Occidental.
It could have been a more sociable day, yes.

Afterwards, home.


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