I stumbled upon Nina Sankovitch during the year that would ultimately turn into her memoir Tolstoy and the Purple Chair. I am not sure if it was via her website -- readallday.org -- or if it may have been on Huffington Post, but nevertheless I was intrigued with the idea of taking on the challenge to read a book a day for an entire year.
Now granted, I thought it a tad crazy (okay, more than a tad) and at first, I was skeptical about how one not only reads a book a day, but comprehends them all. But the later concern was put to rest as, during this year, she was also writing about each and every book... and not quickie one-liner reviewers, but really thoughtful posts.
My other concerns were quickly answered in this book... while still an incredible feat, I was somewhat relieved that she was choosing shorter books (typically under 300 pages) and clocked in with a reading speed of about 70 pages per hour. So at least 4.5 hours blocked out for reading... plus time for writing... plus being a busy mom and all the other stuff that life throws at you. I could kind of understand how it was do-able, but the duration it takes to do it day-in, and day-out over the year is still truly impressive.
At the time that I stumbled upon Nina, I really did not know why was doing it. As it ends, up this becomes the heart of her memoir and what puts it way beyond a bang-bang listing of book reviews. It ultimately is a tribute of sorts to her older sister, who died at age 47 of cancer, and who Nina shared a love a reading with... and this year of reading would be a way of centering herself, slowing down, and doing her very best to over her deep grief. And while the 365 books from this particular year are the focus, a good part of the book is about Nina's memories of reading all throughout her life. I went in a bit skeptical, thinking this was just another "blogger turned book deal" thing, but it definitely had more heart and overall quality-wise was better than I thought it would be.
I never thought I would not like this book. There is definitely a kindred spirit among readers, especially those of us who are a bit obsessive about it. Heck, this very blog was partially devoted and now primarily devoted to what Nina did, but to a far, far, (far, far!) less extent. This marks the 5th year that I have been blogging about the books and it was back in 2006 when I made a real effort to increase the amount I was reading and, to this day, I still find myself pushing myself more and more, while still keeping it fun... the reason why I've been averaging in the mid-30s books per year.
It was fun to read Nina's takes on books, and again I found some similarities between the two of us as the discussion about the books were typically not re-hashes of plot but more talking about how you got to the book, how it related to your life experience, or how it made you feel, what you got (or didn't get) out of the book. Likewise, there were many stories about reading I related to. One was a fairly recent discussion we had in our house of the challenge (danger!) of recommending books to others. There is the strong desire for wanting the person to love the book as much as you did, while the "lendee" often feels the pressure of loving it as much as the lender.
I had very few quibbles with the book. Nina seems to have much more earth-shaking exeriences while reading and it seemed like each chapter ended on a big revelatory note. Likewise, this is very much a grief memoir and while I have been fortunate to avoid major losses in my life, while I could sympathize there was a lot of this part that I couldn't relate to and/or full comprehend the depth of it... tho even if I did, everyone has their own way and time-line for grieving.
My guess is a casual reader, probably won't "get" a lot of this... so definitely a book for folks who are passionate about books. I'll end with one of my favorite quotes from the book and how I often end each of my own days:
"... now my days ended with a book in my lap. The experience of just me and my book under the light of one lamp was like sitting before a spotlighted stage in a dark theater. The whole performance went on just for me. No intermission, no interruptions, and every word illuminated."
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