Ahh... the summer reading begins.
I can still remember the small public library where I received my first list of recommended books for summer reading. Tucked into a plain little corner of San Rafael, it paled in comparison to the other library, much larger and far more solemn, that bore the soaring lines of Frank Lloyd Wright's architecture. Mine was not a library tucked in between courtrooms and government offices, but a quaint and memorable sanctuary of my youth - a place built solely for the fostering of imagination. I spent a number of long and lazy afternoons laying under the sycamore trees growing on the lawn out front, working my way through the laundry list of goofy kids novels and book report fodder until I found something that piqued my interest. The more books completed by the end of the summer, the better the prize from the cardboard box that lay tucked neatly beneath the librarian's desk. I liked the hologram bookmarks best.
The time between then and now is missing more memories of dog-eared pages and long hot days. Maybe I read so often that they blurred together, or maybe I didn't read at all. I couldn't say for sure. My last few summers were spent at a gorgeous YMCA camp nestled under a canopy of redwoods, working frantically to direct the chaotic energy of the wild youth with which I was charged. I know that I read, if only for the precious peace of mind it provided in the evenings, but I can't recall much what. However, just this last summer, after having been assigned to a band of bright young teenagers, I was given a copy of Paolo Coehlo's The Alchemist by one of the girls in my group. It is a tale woven with stunning imagery, touching symbolism and beautiful storytelling. I quickly consumed it in the fervor of my last few days of summer. Consider that a recommendation, if you haven't yet read it.
I've just begun to read Three Cups of Tea, a bestseller about mountaineer-turned-humanitarian Greg Mortenson and his quest to build a school at the base of the Karakoram Range in Pakistan. After failing to climb K2, the world's second highest peak, Mortenson stumbled into the small village of Korphe, just east of Askole. And so, "moved by the inhabitants' kindness, he promised to return and build a school". So says the blurb on the back of the book. Mortenson's commitment to his goal, his struggles in pursuing it, and the effect he has ultimately had in Pakistan and Afghanistan - founding the Central Asia Institute and building more than 80 schools - has enriched my understanding of how inspiration and hope can be spread to others. He receives an astonishing amount of support from others - penniless and discouraged when he began, it seemed impossible at first - but Inshallah (Allah willing, as they say) he was able to do incredible things. I'd have to try quite hard to feel discouraged about any part of my life while reading a story like this one.
So there we have past and present reading... now for the future. I'm happy to be home for a bit because my parent's library is really quite impressive. So here's what I've pilfered to take back with me to Santa Cruz:
And I'll probably read them in that order, unless I get distracted by something else. I've come to realize how important it is for me to choose books that are compelling and easy to read. I know that Kingsolver is right up my alley, but I'm worried about Campbell and Stegner. I'd heard about Campbell's book long ago, and it's very interesting to me... but now that I'm holding it in front of me it seems quite dense. Also, I've wanted to get an introduction to Wallace Stegner but I don't know if this one is the right place to start. So I won't force my way through them, or any others, if it seems like it might be arduous - that drains all the life out of it. No need to finish them all. I've got my work cut out for me with the Mortenson and Kingsolver, and by the time I'm finished I may have found something new. I'll look for the most enjoyable read - just so long as I'm reading.
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