Alina Murzaeva
Finally, the house has quieted down: all the family members (including the dog) have fallen asleep, all the lamps are turned off, and the last goodnight whispers have faded away. My bedside table, my best friend, is patiently waiting. On it, there is traditionally a cup of hot tea (hello morning swelling) and three or four books that I almost always read simultaneously. Some with bookmarks, others new with innocently untouched pages. And I solemnly switch on my bedside lamp, eagerly opening a book, a window into another dimension. This is how my secret ritual of communicating with Her Majesty, the Book, begins every night.
In our transient and beautiful world, it seems like we are overwhelmed with information. At least, personally, every morning I turn on my phone with readiness to face a new wave of news, stories labeled "GM," targeted attacks, and other charms of the bustling information space of the 21st century. Escaping the noise of this ball is impossible, but at the same time, the inevitable heaviness of it, in my opinion, has affected our relationship with books. On one hand, reading books seems trendy - you can find recommended book lists everywhere, someone openly or silently sets a goal to read a certain number of works per year (if you're interested in my two cents, as a true humanist, I'm against such mechanical boundaries), and it's not embarrassing to share a photo of a book on Instagram/Facebook. On the other hand, I often contemplate whether we truly know how to read books? Amidst the frenzy of everything happening and the relentless pace of life, have we forgotten how to read genuinely instead of just skimming through and checking off a box? I haven't found answers to these questions yet (which also apply to me), but for some reason, I want to repeat the mantra "Make reading books great again" and try to learn, to remember how it's done.
I'm not a literary scholar, a philologist, or a professional critic. I'm a book lover. I build relationships with books that are important to me. Perhaps that's why I only read books in paper format and pay such meticulous attention to choosing bookmarks, making notes, and other attributes of the art of reading books. Books come to me on their own, always at the right moment. Each time, they take on their own role: a book as a mentor, a book as solace, a book as a trend or whatever. I read a lot, mostly at night, always exclusively for myself, and books are the rare reason why I can stay awake all night/nights.
I hope this tirade sufficiently explains why I will write about the books I have read, share my feelings, thoughts, and understanding of a particular work with you. Why? - one might ask (or am I "asking" it myself). I think, or rather, I am confident that there are many of us - book lovers - and I wish there were a lot more of us, continuing to learn how to read books deeply, with an open soul and respect.