So, I had myself a charming lunchtime rendezvous today with a classy little thing all the way from Bavaria. Oozing charm and sophistication (even at two hundred-years old), my date was attired in a devilishly chic little black number, blurring the lines between elegance and cheapness …well, I did pick her up for a pound in the stairwell of a department store!!! *
*this whole analogy would have worked a lot better if E.T.A Hoffman had been a woman, but MEH!
Sadly an hour was not enough for this torrid little affair to run its course, but isn’t that what the whole experience of reading is analogous to – a love affair? **I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether or not that was a rhetorical question, judged solely on the comments (or lack of) beneath **
There’s the initial rush of excitement you get on first sight, when you think…this could be the one–the one to help you move on from those past disappointments, taken in by the lure of a flashy cover and the kiss-me-quick blurb that promised you a five-star night in Vegas but delivered a B&B in Margate.
When you look inside at that opening paragraph it’s like you’re a nervous kid on a first date. You begin tentatively, re-reading those initial sentences because you’re lost to the excitement and promise of where this may lead **and it is leading somewhere, so much so you went for the tried and trusted yawn-cum-grope cinema move and left with your balls still intact**
You go to bed satisfied (keep it clean people!), re-living the glorious encounter of those first chapters until the Sandman sprinkles dust in your eyes (instead of stealing them, as per the book).
And when you wake up and the first thing you do is reach for that book you know it’s the real thing…and that although there will come other books, nothing will ever quite live up to this one.
And if not…well, there’s plenty more books in the bookshop!!!
*I’d love to hear you comments*
*Especially if you’ve ever married a book*
(well, stranger things have happened: Tracey Emin just married a rock)