What I’m Reading Wednesday: The Moon by Whale Light by Diane Ackerman and Stories by Rob Cham
I love Ackerman’s A Natural History of the Senses, and I was just hoping I could stumble upon a book of hers one day in Booksale, and I kid you not, I found this gem a few minutes later, which is a little miracle right there, because I rarely see her books in Booksale. I got it and savored it while waiting for the doctor in the hospital because of an asthma attack and found that Ms. Ackerman’s beautiful way with words helped me breathe a bit easier.
Like this bit:
Tonight the moon is invisible, darkness itself has nearly vanished, and the known world, which we map with families, routines, and newspapers, floats somewhere beyond the horizon. Traveling to a strange new landscape is a kind of romance. You become intensely aware of the world where you are, but also oblivious to the rest of the world at the same time. Like love, travel makes you innocent again.
I’m not really fond of bats, or crocodiles, and I’m a bit scared of whales, but she writes with giddy enthusiasm that you can’t help but feel affection and even a sense of connection with said animals. She also reveals how her childhood was like, how she talked to herself often (enough to have their neighbor inform her mother), how she tried to convince a cousin to fly like a bird using a towel tucked into his shirt, how they made a gruesome concoction of unmentionable fluids which they planned on having their friend drink to see if he’ll die for it, and other quirky anecdotes.
I also love this part about living dangerously and learning to fly:
Being ecstatic means being flung out of your usual self. When you’re enraptured , your senses are upright and saluting. But there is also a state when perception doesn’t work, consciousness vanishes like the gorgeous fever it is, and you feel free of all mind-body constraints, suddenly so free of them you don’t perceive yourself as being free, but vigilant, a seeing eye without judgment, history or emotion. It’s that shudder out of time, the central moment in so many sports, that one often feels, and perhaps becomes addicted to, while doing something dangerous.
Best savored slowly.
P.S. S also lent me her Rob Cham comics, which I also plan to finish in a bit. Thanks S! :)
Posted by rainbowramareads