I am what I read
I read the Tintin comics when I was 7. I loved the yellow coat he wore so much, I pestered my parents to get me one. Sadly they didn’t make long yellow coats for 7 year olds, the best they could do was buy me a raincoat. Which I wore every day in the Summer.
I read The Famous Five and the Secret Seven when I was 9. I was so jealous of these groups. My only friend was my cousin I’d hang out with over the summer and we’d run around our grandparents’ house. One day we lost our ball and we went on this huge adventure to try and find it.
I read the Bible when I was 10. My school made us watch The Jesus film and gave us all a copy of the bible. I was terrified of disappointing my teachers so I read and read and read it over and over. I have a tiny trophy lying around somewhere from the bible quiz I won that year.
I read Petit Nicolas, a set of french books when I was 11. I had to change schools in the middle of the year and I was way behind on my first time ever learning French. I remember that first French test I took a week into starting school. I scored 1/50. I have no idea what I got the 1 on, I think the teacher just felt bad for me. I left school that year, I never read anything french again.
I read the Animorphs books when I was 12. I was new to school and there was a girl who loved the books. I read them so I had things to talk about with her. Turns out, she’d only read two of the books. I ended up reading all of them. The only thing I remember from them is this scene where they’re all stuck in animal form in a cage and they can’t transform back. I have no idea if they got out, I think they did though. They’re the heroes after all.
I read The Mayflower Project by the same author when I was 13. An asteroid is about to hit the Earth and the main character has a chance to escape on a rocket ship. At the end the ship leaves with 80 people on board and in the backdrop, the Earth gets destroyed by the asteroid. This was the first time I felt existential dread. I couldn’t sleep for days because every time I closed my eyes, I would realize that I wouldn’t be when I die. It gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach.
I tried to read the Eragon series when I was 14. My dad found the books in my school bag and he grounded me. Its a waste of time to read these things, he said. How is it going to help you graduate high school, he said. I stopped bringing books home after. I have no idea what happens to Eragon or the dragon. Or was the dragon Eragon?
I read the Artemis Fowl books when I was 15. I had extra classes because I was “one of the smart ones”. Another “smart one” would smuggle books in so I could read them. I’d spend the entire class sitting on the back bench reading the books. I left school that year and I never talked to him again. But those books have been one of my fondest memories of high school.
I didn’t read any books between 16-21.
I read the 12 rules of life when I was 22. I was an alpha bro or whatever they’re called. I was into self-help even though I didn’t really need any helping. I remember him talking about cleaning my room. I lived in a 10x10 room with one bed, one table, one chair, 2 shirts, 2 pants, 2 pairs of socks, 1 pair of shoes, and 1 tie. How much cleaner could I keep them?
I read Breakfast of Champions when I was 24. Covid had just started and I was in a new country all alone. My 5 roommates went back home to live with their family but I couldn’t fly halfway across the world. This was my foray into Vonnegut. And I think this might have been the first time I’d enjoyed reading again since Artemis Fowl a decade earlier. His books were so...absurd. There were self-inserts, characters would do the weirdest things, it was so much fun!
I read Seneca, Socrates, Plato, Schopenhauer, and Montaigne when I was 25. Covid was fullblown now and people were dying all over the world. I hadn’t seen or talked to another human in weeks. I was starting to lose my mind. And the stoics kept me sane. They gave me perspective on things I could control and things I couldn’t control. I wish I reminded myself of their teachings more often.
I read Between Two Kingdoms when I was 27. I’d just come back home after visiting my family now that the restrictions were lifted. I remember sitting on my couch, opening the book on my phone - I had a tiny android phone back then. I read the part where she finds out she has a tumor. And my heart started beating. Hard. And fast. And my vision started to blur a bit. My ears got hotter. I could felt the thumping in my face now. I couldn’t breathe. I had my first anxiety attack, I was told by the nice FDNY folks I called thinking I was having a heart attack. I don’t know if it was just the book or if it was everything just hitting me in that moment but this is the only thing I remember from that book.
I couldn’t read another book for 2 years.
I read Jiddu Krishnamurti, and Alan Watts when I was 29. I figured anxiety had done its damage. If I was living like I was going to die every day, I might as well just die. So I googled books to read to get out of the anxiety funk that was plaguing me for the past two years and a lot of people recommended philosophy. Writing this now, I wonder why I never went back to the stoics, but I really enjoyed Jiddu and Alan Watts. They had a perspective of self-driven discovery. That there is an entity separate from the mind, the one who sees the mind. And that anxiety is in the mind, that you see. It got me out of the bubble I was living in back then.
I am 30 now. And I’ve started reading a lot again. I read short stories, I read contemporary novels. I read philosophy, I read comics. I tried reading Suleika Jaouad’s new book recently but every time I see her name on the cover, my heart starts to beat and my ears start to heat. So I stop. I’ve learned to read things I enjoy and just stop reading the things I don’t. I enjoy the rhythm in prose. I read poetry that I don’t understand. Hell, I don’t understand a lot of short stories either. (Like this one)
There’s a quote by Emerson about not remembering the books you read just as you don’t remember the food you eat. But they’ve made you, you. These books have made me, me.