Why do you love the books you love?

I got an e-mail recently that tried to explain "that instant connection" you can have with someone; it went like this:

"Many times I've had people tell me about someone they've met or maybe seen across the proverbial crowded room. They tell me about the instant connection they felt with this person, or how it seems like they know the person already. They are convinced these are the signs of a soul mate relationship. My belief, however, is that this is rarely the case.

Instead, these instant connections are simply the intuitive recognition of a familiar pattern.

When we're born, our early interactions with others indelibly shape our definition of love. [...] When we meet someone and feel an instant connection, it's usually because they carry out the pattern that matches our definition of love..."

I was thinking that this explanation applies to other aspects of our lives. For instance, it propably explains why I happen to love, absolutely love Hispanic Literature; whether it be modern or from the Century of Gold. However, when it comes to English Literature, I can only enjoy the contemporary. I find Shakespeare, for example, too darn difficult for me, in English anyway.

Is there anything else we can add to this? I'd really appreciate your comments.

when the going get tought the touth get going

Inspiration to live a more complete life, insight into myself and other people, the escape of entertainment. These are a few of the reasons why I love the books I love.

I love Michael Crichton novels because they're thrilling, original, humorous, and especially informative.

I like Harry Potter series because it is entertaining.

I like Mill on the floss because it is also entertaining, informative and Eliot's character writing is also good.

I love books in general because they help my imgantion evolve and allow me to think of ideas for how could our world can be so different then it really is.
Also i think that books are an endless source of knowlage that inriches my mind and changes who i am and how i see, hear or feel my surronding....

I love books because I feel like they offer me insight into the world around me, allow me to participate in times, countries and actions that I would never have time or the ability to do in actual life. I love it when an author can pull something that I might of had a half formed thought about, or observe something beautiful or profound and put it into words. My favorite books substantiate and clarify what I might have only half thought or realized. Entertainment value too,of course.

In the reality of the planet on which we live, work, laugh, play, live and die -life is all too often hard to bear and the daily grind can chip away our understanding of who we are as individuals.
I believe passionately that each one of our lives is by Divine ordination a Once upon a time and although certain things are beyond our control, I also believe that each of us chooses to live out our Faerie tale as the hero/heroine , the villain or a bystander.
By opening the pages of books one steps into another's Once upon a time and becomes for a little intertwined with the saga of other humans. In doing so we learn much about ourselves, see our lives as rich and meaningful instead of dull and purposeless. After all when you think about it some of the greatest stories ever told were about ordinary folk, even if some were Hobbits, who were just catapulted suddenly into an adventure. Giving birth, moving to a new location, buying a puppy, going to school all these seemingly ordinary things all culminate into our own special Faerie Tale. Books are wonderful train rides to Faerie Land.

I love different books for different reasons. Some I like because they are pleasant to read, while I like others, because they say something that I find useful, and others I like because they are funny. The list of reasons goes on.

I love the books I love for the same reasons I love the people I love:

- Some because they are easy to get on with and make me feel comfortable.
- Some because they challenge me and force me to confront what I'd rather avoid.
- Some because they can make me laugh so effortlessly.
- Some because they can bring pain and tears with equal ease.
- Some because they reflect my own life and experiences.
- Some because they are so different from my own life and experiences.
- Some because they confirm me in my views.
- Some because they convert me to new views.
- Some because they show the confusion in what seems simple.
- Some because they clarify what is perplexing.
- Some because they have nice covers - although this applies to the people more then the books!
- Some because they are constant and true.
- Some because they are changeable and unpredictable.
- Some because they tell the truth.
- Some because their lies are so beguiling.

And some for no reason at all. Just because I do. And these are often the best of them.

The books I love most are the ones with the really nice covers. I love them because they are so lovely.

LOL!

Quote:

---

Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. - Rick in Casablanca

---

Unnamble, this could be the beginning.

I have often felt isolated in my love for reading, as if I were an outdated bookworm, and when I do open the pages of something, my mind is focused not on the outer world of squalor and noise, but of some inner cinema, if you will, that is as deep and wide as any universe. How awful it must be to not be able to read. But I guess one wouldn't know how awful it was, would one, if one had never known the pleasure of, not only mere literacy, but the power of connecting and inferring, the wonder of the mystery of thought, the marvel of the brilliance and grandeur of language?

I love that you have asked the question, "why do we love...". Thanks for asking.................. :brow:

Oops. I posted twice. Ignore this one.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by mhyrrmayde

I have often felt isolated in my love for reading, as if I were an outdated bookworm, and when I do open the pages of something, my mind is focused not on the outer world of squalor and noise, but of some inner cinema, if you will, that is as deep and wide as any universe. How awful it must be to not be able to read. But I guess one wouldn't know how awful it was, would one, if one had never known the pleasure of, not only mere literacy, but the power of connecting and inferring, the wonder of the mystery of thought, the marvel of the brilliance and grandeur of language?

I love that you have asked the question, "why do we love...". Thanks for asking.................. :brow:

---

Mhirrmayde - That is absolutely beautifully said. Welcome to the forum.