#593 The Reader- Nathan Englander
This is a love letter to bookstores, or a lament for the loss of the bookstore culture. As the brick and mortar bookshops are closing one by one, Author makes his last reading tour. Notice he is not referred to as “The Author” which would be a title, but as “Author” which means it’s his name, his personal identity.
Author is a one-book-a-decade type of writer, so he hasn’t seen this new world, and like cicada coming out of the ground after years of hibernation, he is never sure what to expect. His last books were well received and his book tours were packed. This time, things have changed.
“This is what every book had asked of him, that he forgo all distraction and every comfort, that he simply put his head down and work. But some decades are more delicate than others. And from this one, he’d lifted his eyes up and discovered that he was old.”
There are few people showing up to his readings. By the sixth night there appears to be nobody at all. But as he leaves the store, there is one man sitting, waiting, kindly insisting that Author fulfills his social contract to read, even if it’s only him listening. At first it is a fulfilling experience.
“Really, how much richer could a writing life be than finding, even for one night, one true reader?”
All of the remaining dates on his reading tour follow the same pattern. Nobody but this one man eagerly waiting for him to read. He reads, this is what he does after all, but if starts to feel like he’s reading his own eulogy:
“This book…it’s not a novel, it’s a tombstone. Why not just hammer it in the ground above my head? My name’s already on the front.”
At times I felt this was a very touching story, at other times I found it very self-indulgent. Writers love writing about writing. The meta look into the life of a writer can be very personal, but can also be self-centered. If we take this in any way to be autobiographical (which is hard not to when reading about a writer) than it’s a little insulting to hear a writer complain about not getting enough attention…especially when you are at that very moment giving him attention.
But again…that is a small fraction of my feelings on this piece. Overall, it was a good read, and Englander as always uses an impeccably clean craft that makes anything he writes enjoyable.
