If you ask most people why
they read, they will invariably respond, “I like the stories,” or “to lose
myself in a good book,” or even, “to meet interesting characters.” Each one,
however, seems to suggest that the essential quality of a book is its story,
the escapist factor that would make sitting in isolation for an hour or more an
inviting prospect. It’s amusing to think about: reading is staring at marks in
a book over and over again, while sitting still, and trying to block out the
surrounding world—an almost impossible with 2016 racket. And yet these little
marks can make an entire world rise beneath our feet, carrying us to far-away
places, or transforming our perspective of the work-a-day world. Each one
increases our collective wealth, so we horde them like a treasure-mad dragon,
salivating over each bauble, even if we’ve polished it a thousand times.
