I recently read Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon, for my book club. It had been on my list for more than a year, so I was looking forward to getting beyond the opening pages, which I'd read online when deciding whether or not to add it to my list. It was way beyond the story I had anticipated, taking a very dark turn and staying there throughout most of the novel. Dark in the vein of Phantom of the Opera, The Book Thief and Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children. But the story was masterfully written, and the characters wore their flesh all too convincingly.
The setting is Barcelona, Spain, 1945. The protaganist is Daniel Sempere, an 11-year-old boy who is truly an old soul. The opening takes place at The Cemetery of Forgotten Books -- and that's where Zafon captured me, right in the first sentence, at that sadly intriguing place. Daniel's father takes him there and tells him he can select one book, and that once selected, Daniel is responsible for that book, "making sure that it will never disappear, that it will always stay alive." He tells Daniel, "Every book ... has a soul. The soul of the person who wrote it and of those who read it and lived and dreamed with it. Every time a book changes hands ... its soul strengthens."
The novel parallels two worlds: the world of Daniel Sempere, and that of Julian Carax, the author of the book Daniel selected from The Cemetery of Forgotten Books, titled The Shadow of the Wind. It's believed to be the last of Carax's books in existence, for someone has gone to deadly extremes to rid the world of his novels. Immediately Daniel is thrust into the mystery surrounding Julian Carax's life, both personal and professional, a mystery frought with intrigue, danger and murder. The tension doesn't let up from page one.
But there were two lines near the end of the book that I had to stop and contemplate for a while. On page 444, one of the characters says, "Julian had once told me that a story is a letter the author writes to himself, to tell himself things that he would be unable to discover otherwise." And on page 484, "Bea says that the art of reading is slowly dying, that it's an intimate ritual, that a book is a mirror that offers us only what we already carry inside us, that when we read, we do it with all our heart and mind ..."
Those quotes are bookends that examine a novel from the author's perspective on one hand, and from the reader's perspective on the other. "... a letter the author writes himself, to tell himself things that he would be unable to discover otherwise." I agree with that line to a point. I do believe a book is written as much for the author as it is for the reader. I'm not so sure that it's to discover things the author would otherwise be unable to discover. Rather I believe, from my own experience at least, that it helps her untangle complex issues she might not have the energy or courage to examine any other way. "...the art of reading is ... an intimate ritual ... a book is a mirror that offers us only what we already carry inside us ..." That line I do agree with whole-heartedly. I think that's why books are as intensely personal as a painting or a song. What pierces me to the marrow may mean nothing at all to you. And I'm pierced because I relate to whatever the issue may be. I think that's why, as Megan said in a comment to Patti's post last Friday, "We appreciate, and probably look for or expect, different things from novels, which is why there are books that some of us love and others are disappointed in." If you're like me you begin a novel with anticipation that you and the novel are going to have a soul connection on one level or another. Yes, there are novels we select for a light read, that we don't look to for any special meaning. But those books that do beckon us for a deeper experience can be hugely impacting if they connect with us, or hugely disappointing if they fail to do so.
What is your perspective on those quotes. What book have you most recently connected with on a deep level?
