I have owned Walden and kept it close, especially close to where I sleep – the way many people keep a bible close. For years I have had this book, packed it, unpacked it. I have even discussed it with such energy you would imagine I had read it. I have not. I don’t understand me and Walden at all and have no cool explanation. I accuse myself of showing I have the sweetness of simple wisdom by having it near me but I know that’s not really it.
I have another book that is just as mysterious to me. My parents refused to allow me to read Émile Zola’s Nana when it was suggested by a mischievous teacher when I was in early high school. When I left home it was the first book I purchased. I have not read it yet. It does not have the place of honor that Walden enjoys. It is just another book among a great many books. I have no idea why I still have not read it. I really do not think my parents, who are long gone, give a hoot what I read now. I would love to hear what anyone thinks is going on between me and these books! I read everything and I mean everything! So what do you think?