Reading over my initial “The Books that Mattered” post, it strikes me that it sounds so heavy and serious. But I would like the spirit of this blog to be . . . unexpected, thought-provoking, occasionally moving, occasionally laugh-out-loud funny, invariably entertaining.
Maybe a good way to think of this blog is like a . . . high school or college reunion.
I attended my HS reunion a few years back and many of the emotions and thought-processes that I had about reconnecting with my former classmates are much the same as I have about revisiting these books from my youth.
I want to read them again, experience them again. But I am more than a little apprehensive about what I might find. It’s not unlike seeing a girl I had a huge crush on back in twelfth grade and haven’t seen since: what will she be like thirty-five years later? And perhaps more unsettling, after all these years, how will I appear to her?
So, like my former classmates, some of these books will have aged better than others. Some will be as great as I remember them. Some will have put on a few pounds, lost some hair; others will have gotten a little boring. And some will prompt the question: how could I have ever liked them in the first place?