Contemplating the Library

One of the biggest admissions I make in the book is that Roger has never read a book in his life. Well, actually, he’s read one—he did a book report in sixth grade on The Babe Ruth Story. He only did that because he was forced to by his teacher. As he talks to Otto, Roger almost seems to be flaunting the stark admission. He’s almost proud that he’s never read a book. This is a true statement. I never started to read on a consistent basis until I was in college. I caught up rather quickly, I believe, and still read about 25 books a year to this day. So you can say I caught up and then some. But I put this part into the book because it seems that much of America is comprised of non-readers—people who slip by in a lazy manner without taking the time to crack a book or learn anything. So I threw my own dirty secret in there, hoping to shake the cobwebs off some peoples’ brains via a like-minded pea head. The moment at the library in Hanford, California on Day 24 is shown as a spark of discovery, a light bulb going off.  “I never comprehended a library before.  Its purpose eluded me. Every one always seemed like a museum of paper, with tedious compilations of esoteric details.  But I found out something: If you put in the effort, books’ll meet you half way.  They called out.  They felt exciting to handle and touch.” Otto adds, “What you read adds up. You gotta get your head together in a place like this once in a while. Most words last longer than the author does.”