reading clearout - may 2021

Hi reader,

A few thoughts today on some recent(ish) (re)reading that I won't put into a full review.

The Prophet by Khalil Gibran (January 2020)

I've written plenty on TOA about Gibran's 1923 classic, with my 2018 reading review being the comprehensive precursor to my 2019 blurb. My notes from last January include a remark that I reread "On Giving", though of course I obviously saw fit to reread the whole book. The thought that a wrongdoer speaks for the ills of the community as much as for the individual has stayed with me since I first read The Prophet, blessing me with a perspective regarding our structural issues that informed the way I responded to events of the past year.

Maniac Magee by Jerry Spinelli (April 2019)

It occurred to me as I reviewed my 2019 reading list that it has now been two full years since I last saw this book, which I've read six times since 2010. Unlike last year, however, I don't feel any sense of having missed my annual April rereading - it seems that the tradition was more closely tied to Marathon Monday than it was to the spring season. I guess the theory will soon be put to the test - the next edition of the race is rescheduled for October. In the meantime, we can carry on with one of the enduring lessons of the book - routines can provide just enough stability to guide us through our difficult times.

Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami (December 2019)

This is one of those books that I should have written about right away because its combination of length, symbolism, and surreal elements make it a challenging work to review eighteen months after the fact. I only half-recommend Kafka on the Shore for I am unlikely to reread it again, but I do sense this is a partly unfair comment as I am comparing it against some of Murakami's other work, which I prefer; this book written by an otherwise unknown author might gain higher approval from me. The role of imagination in helping us move forward from the past is an important idea that drifts through this work, for our sense of responsibility is almost always an imaginative act; reclaiming responsibility for our own lives is the greatest imaginative act of all. Otherwise, we may be doomed once we pass life's point of no return, doomed to live out the remainder of our time trying to fit the broken shards back into the framework of the past.

the 2019 toa book award – runner up

The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran (May 2018)

The power of a good book is how it finds words for the sensations, convictions, and intuitions that we’ve yet to articulate into our own sentences. I suspect many readers have shared my reaction to certain phrases and expressions that emerge from a good book – that’s what I’m saying! In a sense, a good book organizes the mess in our brains and cultivates the potential hidden in the clutter.

So, that’s a good book. But what’s a great book? I think a great book guides us to the hidden corners. It shines a light where we would otherwise never bother to look. In a sense, a great book guides us through the soul and leaves us in awe – how have I never thought about this before? Or to put it another way, a great book molds the sensations, convictions, and intuitions that float within us into the humble but limited expression of language.

Much of what I highlight on TOA fulfills my idea of a good book. In these works, I find what is true and consider the best way to make use of it. The Prophet is a rare find, a great book, and in such works I simply see the truth, worry about how little I know, and go back to look a little more.

reading review - the prophet

The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran (May 2018)

Kahlil Gibran guides the reader on an unforgettable journey of the soul and spirit in this 1923 classic. As I am sure many readers have done before me, I read The Prophet with a mixture of wonder and appreciation. Each page was like another step forward into uncharted land, the reader accompanied throughout by Gibran’s wisdom, generosity, and grace.

A major theme in this work is how togetherness emerges through acknowledgment of what we share with others. The Prophet sees each person as a leaf on a tree, each connected to another through shared roots, rather than as a tree in a forest that could easily stand alone without the direct support of others. With such a worldview, the wrongdoer will always contains a trace of our hidden will and the righteous must always recognize complicity in their neighbor’s worst deeds. Just as a turning leaf speaks with knowledge about every neighbor on the tree, each person who falls out of line with the rest should be looked at not as a villain but rather as a symptom of the dormant societal disease that waits for its moment to ambush us all.

The thought works directly against the pressure from society to glorify individual accomplishments, isolate bad deeds as singular acts, and move on quickly from those who have stumbled or fallen. A society must exercise this ‘quarantine’ thinking to some degree in order to continue its proper functions in the presence of a bad apple. However, if each person took the time to help the coming generation by removing every known obstacle from the path, we can start building a better future where we learn from each other’s missteps and take responsibility for making sure no others repeat our errors.

Of course, even with an identifiable theme or two, a book like this is always difficult to write about because I never quite feel like what I can say will ever do justice to the work. There is also the question of how well I can articulate my own thoughts about the work – as Gibran notes, sometimes our words strangle the life out of our thinking and feeling.

The meandering, spirited journey of The Prophet is like a bird in full flight; I feel there is only so much I can say before I risk my words becoming like the cage that forever strips the book of its soaring qualities. The Prophet reminds us that our words are never more than mere shadows for our thoughts, a truth hammered home for me in this very process of trying to write about the book.

One up: One of the important messages from The Prophet centers around the difference between giving of the self and giving of a possession. Though a possession can be given away with great meaning or symbolism, it rarely happens with the same significance as giving of the self.

For Gibran, the truth in giving means simply giving – giving without being mindful of debt, giving without seeking a return of joy or self-baptism, giving without first confirming that there is plenty to give. The difference in giving the self and giving a possession is that giving of the self is always simply giving.

One down: The Prophet is the type of work where the mood created by the writing makes it feel like almost any kind of metaphor is plausible. For the most part, this is OK. But as I reviewed my notes just now, I struggled to fully buy into the idea that ‘the best place to start climbing is from the mountaintop’. Climb where? Maybe I should consider coming back down instead – I’m sure someone down there is worried about me – and I’ll be in better position to help others get up the mountain the next time I decide to try another ascent.

Another such thought was about how although they (‘they’) say we humans are like chains in the way we are as strong as our weakest link, why can’t we also be as strong as our strongest link? I like the spirit of the thought, even in my post-reading state of mind, but I must point out that this is not how chains work – chains break at the weakest link, no matter how a clever, poetic, or big-hearted counter-analogy might dispute the notion.

Just saying: As I briefly alluded to above, one of Gibran’s best insights was about the relationship between thoughts and words. This idea suggests something important about The Prophet – although it is a written work, there are qualities about it that remind me of other forms of art. Like with a great painting or a moving song, I felt there was a part of this book’s masterpiece that happened in me as I read thanks to how The Prophet stirred up the truths I cannot yet express in words.