Over the years my reading has expanded along what might seem
predictable lines--lots of scholarly nonfiction, novels set in India,
mysteries, and current nonfiction. I rarely read historical fiction though I
enjoy history. Recently I read Ursula LeGuin's National Book Award speech, and
was reminded that I had never read anything by her other than a few short
stories.
As a child I read The
Turn of the Screw by Henry James, and was put off by the governess's
clearly unhinged state. In my view there was no ghost, just an unreliable woman
losing her mind in an isolated country house. I told my older brother this and
he remarked, you won't like science fiction or ghost stories. I took him at his
word and happily entered the world of mysteries.
LeGuin's speech convinced me I'd been too quick to judge,
and I picked up her first novel, Rocannon's
World (1964). In a preface to a new edition the author remarked on how
much her writing has changed, and as I read the story I could tick off the stages
in the hero's journey without any effort. Still, I liked the author's robust
attitude and her imagination.
Since I had no idea how LeGuin compared to other writers of
science fiction, I decided to try C.S. Lewis. I had read Till We Have Faces
(1956) in college, and knew about the Chronicles of Narnia, though they hadn't
appealed to me as a child. I selected Out
of the Silent Planet and fell in love with Dr. Ransom. When he sees the
strange creature emerge from a body of water and begin talking, he loses all
fear, and "his imagination leaped over every fear and hope and
probability of his situation to follow the dazzling project of making a
Malacandrian grammar." Of course! You laugh but I didn't. I knew exactly how Ransom felt. What Lewis shows
us in the next several chapters is laid bare in language at the end, when
Ransom discusses the nature of life on earth with Oyarsa after all three humans
are brought before him and the people of the planet..jpg)
For several years I was a member of a book group, where I
read authors whose works had never appealed to me, and for the most part still
don't, but I found it very broadening to read and think about their words and
articulate just what I didn't care for.
Last night I joined several other writers for the annual
Mystery Night at the New England Mobile Book Fair. Not many readers in my area read
about India, but I was pleasantly surprised when a few patrons listened to me
talk about my Anita Ray books and decided to try them. India and Indian
mysteries are as alien to many readers in this country as science fiction has
long been to me. It's nice to pull down some walls, and get a closer look at
the other side, from wherever you are standing.
