Tomato, Tomahto

I'm pretty sure it was Edmond Wilson who said that "no two people read the same book".

I have to agree.

And this is where it all begins.  This conversation- this intellectual vs emotional, this theory vs practice, this process vs visceral response, this heart vs head fight to the metaphorical (or not so metaphorical, depending how this goes) fight to the death.

This isn't a debate about whether the content is the same for every reader, that's not the point, or even the issue.  What changes is what the reader gets out of the book at the end.   Who we are at the time that we read something, what we've done and experienced in our lives, our own personal philosophies color what the content means, how we relate to the content, what we walk away with.

This also isn't to say that this meaning stays static, it changes as we change.  Reading a book when you're 16, is going to be a very different experience when you re-read the same book (the same copy) when you're 28- because you're not the same person that you were, thus, you can't re-read the exact same book you did when you're 16.  It's changed.

Books have a life all their own.

I will use Choke by Chuck Palahniuk, in part because it is actually a good example of this, and also because I'm a jackass with a very strong desire to annoy the crap out of a specific person.  But, Choke.  I found it wondering around Central Library trying to waste time and because I do judge books by their covers, and the cover was at the very least a little "what the fuck".  I got home around 2pm and was done with the book by 5pm.  I couldn't eat dinner- I laid in my hammock and just stared, trying to get over this emotional mind fuck that I'd been waiting to have for the past 3 years.  Part of me related to Victor and his intense need to feel loved in any way possible, no matter how self destructive.  I didn't quite understand the whole meaningless sex with strangers things- in part because I was a virgin and a very naive, romantic one at that.  I didn't quite understand the idea of having flashbacks about a parent who showed you care in the most messed up of ways and you can't help but love them.

None of that made sense until I re-read it in my 20s.  The book changed because I had changed.  I was no longer the same person, the book could no longer be the same one that I carried around for weeks.  I understood certain parts of it better, and others lost their attachments.  I knew what it meant to have meaningless sex, I truly understood what it meant to be that kind of self-destructive.  Somewhere within time though, my intense need to be love faded into a quiet, "that would be nice" sort of thing- the plot that drew me in in the first place was now somehow different, less important.  The words and phrases that I underlined in pencil the second time I read it (about a month after the first time), were very different than what caught my eye when I was 27.  Even the stylistic elements held different meaning as my understanding of them on a more academic, intellectual level grew.  The book altered as I compared it to the other books I had since read, in large part because I got distracted by the cover of Choke more than 10 years before.

If a book can change so drastically for one person over the course of time, how could two individuals really read the same book?  Yes, there is overlap.  Yes, people can get two very, very similar readings of the same content- but they will never be identical.

When it comes to nonfiction, I'm not entirely sure if the same holds true.  So much of what changes a book for any one person is the multitude of interpretations that can be taken from any one story.  I don't think the same holds true for facts.  While we may each relate to some series of facts in very different ways, I think it would be difficult to say that those facts would be markedly different- the way things can be in fiction.

Philosophy is another one of those sticky wickets.  One that I know I am no where near well versed enough in to attempt to tackle.  But I'm sure I will be since I've been told that a fair amount of this reading list will consist of just that.

So, now it begins.  The discussion, the conversation, the death match that ensues when two people read the same thing and come up with different answers.  It's the fun of reading, and the worst part simultaneously, which, I guess pretty much makes it the best thing ever really.

Welcome to Thunder Dome, bitch.