Saturday, November 13, 2010

Vacation Book as Photo, Memory, Story, Life

So what do you read on vacation?

I used to go on vacations with more books than clothes, somehow believing any travel would elongadate time to the point I might finish a title every day, and still have time to enjoy the sights. No more. Now I hone my selections to a bare—but varied—minimum, always with one title too many so that there’s flex room in case my mood changes.

Then, strangely, a book often comes to symbolize that entire vacation for me. The memories of reading a unique story in an unusual place glows on the shelf when I espy it months or even years later. Occassionally, the book becomes the single metaphorical memory of the holiday—intertwining its existence as a physical object and an engrossing story with my vacation locale and all of its related activities.

It’s not hard to scan my shelves and see:

  • The Jungle Book and Lolita become Portugal, our final trip before becoming parents, the most delicious food we’ve ever had overseas, my embarrassing order of peanut sauce when trying to speak Portuguese, great seafaring monuments, stifling heat. In reflection, I have no idea how I combined these two titles together for this trip, except that their contrasts framed our days away.

  • The Hunchback of Notre Dame becomes our first trip to Rome—The irony of reading the quintessential book about Paris in Roma somehow didn’t seem ironic until I was reading it on a small bed in a tiny hotel room with a balcony revealing this amazing view of the ancient city. Yes, we saw and enjoyed all of the amazing history and art, but it all starts with this twisted fairy tale.

  • Truman is a Youth Retreat in Carlinville, Ill—I remember yanking it out during a lull on the first night and everyone gasping at its size. Yes, I was reading David McCullough’s bio at the time, but I also brought it to impress. (I was young and naïve!) I remember staying up all night to play Risk. (I lost.) I remember the Lord moving. I remember discussing Bill Clinton’s election possibly being a good thing for Pentecostals to stay engaged in the political process. I remember beautiful weather.
  • Twelfth Night becomes London. In truth, it’s not fair to choose a single anything to somehow magically represent a two-month stay in England due to work (one of the most blessed periods in my life), yet this book resonates because London reimmersed me in the classics. An unknown publishing house called Wordsworth was offering all the classics (no matter their size) for 1 pound each! 1 pound! I gobbled up most of Shakespeare, Hardy, shelves of poetry(!), Austen, the Brontes and even some Dickens. There was always something to read! So it was that I happily chose Twelfth Night during my second month there, alone in the company’s seond-story flat. My bedroom window overlooked an angled roof, hard against the back wall. It beckoned to me. So one beautiful day, I climbed out onto the roof to read Twelfth Night. It seemed like the most appropriate way to read Shakespeare in London. Twelfth Night is still my favorite comedy, and the first title I think of when I revisit London in my mind.

  • Sun Tzu’s The Art of War becomes Sanibel Island, Florida on our honeymoon. Everyone—coaches, businessmen and politicians! Everyone!—at the time was recommending this must-read title, so I tossed it onto my pile (without thinking, obviously) before we traveled south. It was only when Nita pointed out the timing of what I was reading that I realized my error. All I can say in my defense is that this title saved our lives when an army of vengeful Samurai cornered us one evening . . . nah! I blew it! Don’t bring it on your honeymoon.

Finally, I can’t explain why one book becomes that overpowering metaphorical travel memory while the other titles on the same vacation drift away. It’s not the nature of the trip, as I’ve been to many locales—Milan, Phoenix, Paris, Chicago, Scotland, and Ontario—where no books resonate afterwards. I just know certain books seal my story into theirs to create something far more powerful than any group of photos ever can.

So what do you read on vacation?

No comments:

Post a Comment