Over and Over and Over

I think most readers have beloved books, books that instantly spell comfort. I have books that I reread frequently, some of which have been favorites for well over 20 years. You would think I would be rather tired of them by now, but apparently my being a creature of utter habit extends entirely into my reading as well.

1. Neither Here Nor There by Bill Bryson
This book has been a great favorite of mine for well over 15 years. My copy is disgracefully dog-eared and is the cause of this list, since my husband noticed me reading it in bed the other night. It was hard not to notice, since I insisted upon reading particularly funny bits out loud to him, while half-choking with laughter.

I'm also snorting with laughter right now, reading some of the Official Reviews on Amazon. The Library Journal mentions that the book is offensive (as we all know, the heights of humour are wholesome and reached in such literary gems as Reader's Digest) and "self-indulgent." HA! It's a TRAVEL MEMOIR, the single most self-indulgent literary genre*! So be warned. Bryson is a crabby, offensive, frequently smutty and self-indulgent author. He is also very, very funny.

* aside from the therapy memoir genre. But you couldn't PAY me to read one of those.

2. Persuasion - Jane Austen
Wherein we may find the single greatest literary letter ever:

"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are
within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not
that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer
myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke
it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman,
that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have
been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have
brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can
you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days,
could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can
hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink
your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be
lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You
do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to
be most fervent, most undeviating, in

F. W.

"I must go, uncertain of my
fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A
word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this
evening or never."

Le sigh.

It's a strangely melancholy book. Whenever I reread it - and that has been at least once a year since I was 15 or so - I am left with a profound sadness despite the happy ending.

3. The Magician's Nephew - C. S. Lewis
I'm not saying that this is the best of the Narnia books, but it is my favorite. Polly's pirate cave in the attic! Horrible Uncle Andrew! Digory crying in the garden and the apple he brings to his dying mother! The room of the Kings and Queens of Charn! The creation of Narnia! Good stuff.

4. The Collected Stories of Colette
I bought my battered copy at a second hand book store when I was 17. It's been toted everywhere with me ever since, and brings with it a strange, lost world - artists in France in the 20s, starving Parisian theatre folk, and the desperation of WWI. It's also terribly sophisticated and worldly in a way that I was starving for when I was young and find rather amusing now, and a wonderful summery read.

5. If You Want To Write - Brenda Ueland
I don't remember how or when this book happened into my hands, but it has been a tremendous blessing and comfort over the years. I've loaned it to literally dozens of people, too. It's a life-enhancing meditation on the utter importance of writing what is true and what is real, and it is a joy.

6. Rebecca - Daphne du Maurier
I first read this book when I was 9 or so and MUCH too young to have any idea what was going on. SOMETHING was, I was certain. And now I know! Growing up has its deep pleasures.

So. What books are your favorites, your comfort books?