So in English class we had to draw a scene from The Great Gatsby. After the drawings were done the teacher was showing them to the class, and one drawing was a pic of Gatsby reaching towards at the green light, but in the drawing Gatsby didn’t have hands. So my teacher starts saying something like how this picture has hidden meaning and portrays the helplessness Gatsby feels, and the kid next to me just casually says “I can’t draw hands.”
Ever finished a book? I mean, truly finished one? Cover to cover. Closed the spine with that slow awakening that comes with reentering consciousness?
You take a breath, deep from the bottom of your lungs and sit there. Book in both hands, your head staring down at the cover, back page or wall in front of you.
You’re grateful, thoughtful, pensive. You feel like a piece of you was just gained and lost. You’ve just experienced something deep, something intimate… Full from the experience, the connection, the richness that comes after digesting another soul.
It’s no surprise that readers are better people. Having experienced someone else’s life through abstract eyes, they’ve learned what it’s like to leave their bodies and see the world through other frames of reference. They have access to hundreds of souls, and the collected wisdom of all them.”
Beautiful read on why readers are, “scientifically,” the best people to date.
Perhaps Kafka’s timeless contention that books are "the axe for the frozen sea inside us" applies equally to the frozen sea between us.