nine
by John Yamrus
like many compulsive readers, i’m always reading more than one book at a time. right now (for example) i’ve got upstairs on my night stand the 1960 novel by Joan Lindsay, The Picnic At Hanging Rock, and, of course, my ever-present Proust (the first volume, probably my favorite of the series)…downstairs, where i’m sitting right now, as i write this, piled up on the couch right next to me, are a great noir novel by Cornell Woolrich (Waltz Into Darkness),the Ray Bradbury classic Something Wicked This Way Comes (which is one of the greatest book titles ever. and Bradbury, smart man that he was, carries it over into one of the greatest first lines ever: “First of all, it was October, a rare month for boys.”).
rounding out and completing my list is a book i’ll start reading this afternoon…a six hundred page history of the battle of Waterloo. i’ve read more than a few books on Waterloo and probably know more than anyone in his right mind should know or care to know about the battle…but, come on, this one’s six hundred pages, so there’s gotta be something new in it!
there’s usually no rhyme or reason to why i pick what i pick, and read what i read, but i have figured out that there’s kind of a pattern to it…there’s almost always a classic or two, and some fluff — often a noir novel or a Stephen King, since he seems to have a new book come out every other week, and for my money his books don’t really count as fluff, because they’re so well written and enjoyable. it kills me that he gets such a bad rap as a writer and doesn’t get the respect he deserves, probably and most likely because he writes in a genre that’s not considered as being “serious”, but i just love his writing because it’s really hard to make it look that easy.
the new book on Waterloo rounds out my constant need for a non-fiction book…often there’s histories or biographies or books on the early days of cinema (did i just write “cinema”? i meant the movies…i never went to the cinema in my life…and i don’t watch films, i watch movies).
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i have a cousin who also reads a lot…and she reads really fast…she often reads as much as a book a day or every other day. i never understood that. that always seemed to me to be a barbaric way to read a book. i mean, books aren’t a race…not a contest. you only read fast like that if it’s the night before an English lit final and you still haven’t read the last 5 chapters of Moby Dick.
i read a lot, but i read really really slow. i read at the same speed at which i speak…acting out (in my head), the words and the lines. you ought to see me when i read Shakespeare…every couple of years i re-read some Shakespeare, and in my head i’m as good as the best actor ever. you think Denzel was a good Macbeth? man, you haven’t lived until you were in my head and heard me do Macbeth squaring off with the Earl of Gloucester!
anyway, while i’ll never understand my cousin’s need to read thru books like she’s trying to break the land speed record at Bonneville, i really do appreciate her love for books. she was a librarian for 40 years, for god’s sake!
and, don’t get me started about her particular choices in books, because that’s a personal thing, and there’s room enough in the world for both of us to be wrong. besides, she can always bring up how stupid it is for me to constantly be reading five or six books at the same time.
really, if you asked me, i couldn’t tell you how i keep all the plots and characters straight without getting totally lost and confused. especially if i’m reading Henry James or Edith Wharton or one of those damn Russian novels, with all the names, surnames, nicknames, diminutives and everything else…and i guarantee you nobody keeps characters in Tolstoy straight! nobody. probably not even the translators!
so, that’s it…on any given day…in any given room in the house…in the sun room or the bathroom…or the bed room or even in the summer out by the pool…depending on whatever mood i’m in, i’m either reading a classic, a non-fiction or noir, or some fluff. and, while i may not read ’em fast, i eventually get to the end…so, if you have any suggestions for me…if you got something good or old or new for me to read…i’m more than happy to give it a try.
In a career spanning more than 50 years as a working writer, John Yamrus has published 35 books (29 volumes of poetry, 2 novels, 3 volumes of non-fiction and a children’s book). He has also had nearly 3,000 poems published in magazines and anthologies around the world. A book of his SELECTED POEMS was just released in Albania, translated into that language by Fadil Bajraj, who is best known for his translations of Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Bukowski, Ginsberg, Pound and others.
A number of Yamrus’s books and poems are taught in college and university courses. His most recent book is SELECTED POEMS: THE DIRECTOR’S CUT (Concrete Mist Press, 542pp).
