I’m at the library right now. I’m considering whether to give this book away. My brain tells me one thing–that I need to get lighter. That I need to slowly start shedding the bounds of material possessions and become lighter if I’m going to survive as a traveler in the coming years. My heart tells me another thing. It tells me that this book has the ability to heal. In this way, my plight is not so dissimilar than the plight of the captain of the Zong.
I would love to leave this book someplace where a truly amazing reader would find this book. Where is that? Could it be a library or a bus stop? The library has a donation bin, so this will have to do.
What do I see in this book on my second reading–everything that I want from a book. A book with grace, lyrical wording, a sensitivity to the difficulties of being human–it also has a sense of humor. This is important when dealing with such a touchy subject like slavery.
Then why am I donating it? If a believe in the transformational power of literature than why am I so eager to throw it overboard as Captain Cunningham does his sick slaves. Perhaps I am just as cruel and just as focused on the materiality of checks in my ledger and profit.
The sea in this book is a symbol for everywhere and nowhere for beginnings and ends–for the unbearable inbetweeness between land. As I read this book, I feel a deep connection with myself as I was when I was 22–and miraculously I materialize again at 29. More than anything, what I want from this book is to leave it someplace only to find it again. In this way, I can rematerialize with my hopes and dreams as they were when I was 22.
Posted on August 24, 2011
0