I don’t remember a time when I couldn’t read; books have always been the lenses through which I view the world. The Book, the Word, the Light, brings into being my very faculty of sight. Some books are corrective glasses, clearing up distortions and bringing into focus all things needful for me to see. Others are binoculars, extending my field of vision to identify far off things of which I would otherwise have only blurry glimpses. Certain books are microscopes, showing me minute particulars which despite their seeming smallness are of vital significance. Still others are telescopes, directing my gaze past this finite world to wonders of the great Beyond. Some books are windows, letting light and air into the rooms in which I am too apt to shut myself up. And some are mirrors, holding up before me the honest reflection of my true self which I would not otherwise see.

Monday, December 19, 2011

Book Review: Sophie's World by Jostein Gaarder

Synopsis:

Sophie begins receiving enigmatic, anonymous letters addressed to herself, as well as letters directed to Hilde, whom Sophie does not know, from Hilde's father, shortly before her fifteenth birthday. They cause her to start thinking about the "big questions" - who are you, why are you here, etc., and eventually lead her into an unusual relationship with a mysterious older gentleman who becomes something of a mentor.

Comments:

I did learn more from this book about philosophy than I knew before, which was a pitifully negligible amount; perhaps a straightforward philosophy textbook would have suited me better. The "story" vehicle, in my opinion, ranged from stiff, jerky, contrived, and stilted, to downright chaotic and maddening. I kept plugging away at it, hoping to find what had prompted the good reviews I'd seen, but I never did. The most valuable lesson I took away from it was to never again waste time reading a book I can't stand.

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