This review first appeared in the December 2018 issue of The Melbourne Anglican. ‘Books
that saved my life : reading for wisdom, solace and pleasure’ by Michael
McGirr. Text Publishing, 2018. ISBN
9781925773149
At
university, friends of mine circulated lists of books thought necessary for any
fully-educated person to read. More recently we’ve seen the phenomenon of the
one hundred books we have to read before we die, as though life is a race to
get through someone else’s favourite reading. Michael McGirr’s book is not like
that.
In
forty chapters he talks about forty books, and more, that have positively
influenced his understanding of himself and the world. Read a chapter a day, it
is recommended as a Lenten book with a difference, especially as we find him
saying: “Reading will feed your hungry mind and take your heart on a journey.
It will help you on the path of one of life’s most elusive and hard-won
freedoms, freedom from the ego.” He reads Thomas Merton to “understand the
exciting journey from loneliness to solitude.” Every page delivers new insights
using a trained conversational style. It is the ideal answer to how and why
literature can save you a lot of time.
Regular
readers of McGirr will not be surprised to learn that the main character of
this book is the author himself. His eye for the comic or absurd, the
meaningful or even tragic, combined with a talent for turning his experiences
into story, make for pleasurable diversion. Books have their own life and
language. McGirr uses his reading as a means into autobiography; books agitate
his idiosyncratic ability to educate and entertain. “Reading is among the few
communal activities that you do on your own” he writes, a paradox that in his
case is very much about giving back what he has read to the community, not just
keeping it to himself. He convinces us that good literature improves our own
world while existing so marvellously inside its own contexts. After reading
‘The Pickwick Papers’ he confesses “I still haven’t fully found my way out of
Dickens.”
Books
are intimately connected with our personal lives. Thus, McGirr’s comic takedown
of Mrs Beeton (“I confess that I think of a cookbook as something to read while
you wait for the pizza to be delivered”) turns into a reflection on his
mother’s eccentric kitchen habits. For him, the key moment in The Iliad is when
Achilles offers Priam a souvlaki, noting “Homer makes no mention of garlic
sauce.” Jane Austen is important for what she teaches us about sex, money, and
religion, but is equally important because of the sharing of gnosis among
Janeites, starting in McGirr’s case with his unforgettable English teacher, the
very probable Mr Deegan.
It
reminds me of Simon Holt’s wonderful book on food and spirituality, ‘Eating
Heaven’, which shares the same vital character: Melbourne. All Melburnians
should read these two books because contemporary Melbourne, its people and
mores, enliven every chapter, teaching us new things. Holt’s attention is on
the different tables where we sit, talk, eat and share. McGirr’s attention is
on the power of literature to challenge and transform. His book is full of
cheeky schoolboys, shrewd social workers, and poetic Jesuits. He quotes Jacob
Rosenberg to the effect that “Language is the physical manifestation of man’s
spirituality”, only to prove it by his eager and earnest analysis of his
reading, an analysis tempered and strengthened by its connection with the
people around him.
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