Mother Memories... The Normalcy of Reading
Tuesday May 6, 2008
Some of my earliest memories of my mother are of her reading. It seemed a normal part of existence: to ravenously devour a book, to sleep with a book beside the bed (or in one's hands), to have a book forever at hand. But, the role of mothers in literature runs far deeper than my initial introductions to reading...
How have mothers influence the lives of writers? How have women writers balanced the demands of motherhood with the need to write? And, what have authors written about their mothers?
Walt Whitman wrote:
"I see the sleeping babe nestling the breast of its mother,
The sleeping mother and babe--hush'd, I study them long and long."
What are your early memories of reading? Do you have a favorite passage that expresses motherhood in literature? Have you been by a writing and/or reading mother?
How have mothers influence the lives of writers? How have women writers balanced the demands of motherhood with the need to write? And, what have authors written about their mothers?
Walt Whitman wrote:
"I see the sleeping babe nestling the breast of its mother,
The sleeping mother and babe--hush'd, I study them long and long."
What are your early memories of reading? Do you have a favorite passage that expresses motherhood in literature? Have you been by a writing and/or reading mother?
Comments
The first book I’ve read is Ginger Pye. It was about this dog and his adventures with the family who adopted him. My mother bought me the book in hopes that I would become an avid reader — and it worked.
I remember my mother always reading… she loved mysteries, and I remember seeing her reading and realized the pleasure it gave her, and here she was doing it for fun, not because she had to for school or such… so that got me into reading for pleasure, and I started with her collection of Agatha Christie books… I always think of her now when I read… she also loved the scent of a fresh new book… when we’d go to the bookstore together, she’d find a book she wanted, then open it to the middle and take in the scent of paper and ink… it’s a habit I picked up and still perform whenever I have a new book.
My father read to me every night when I was a child. My mother in her own right was inspiring because even though English is her second language, she is never intimidated by a book. She’s faithfully trudged through Jane Austen and other classics with her trusty dictionary at hand.
My grandmother contributed a great deal to my reading habit by purchasing fabulous books as gifts for birthdays and Christmas. My mother would take me to the library and later the bookstore (once our town got one). My father played his part, too, by dominating the t.v. with boring news shows that I had no interest in watching.
My mom read me to all the time when I was little. She told me when I was three, I started reading for myself. She thought I had the book memorized, so brought a new one out – and I read that one to her, too!
We still get together and read. We both love reading!