He kept showing her books, one after the other, wanting to know whether she had read them. He would then briefly tell her what each and every one of them was about. You little book snob, you! She should really… But before I was able to find the appropriate punishment for his attitude, I couldn’t help noticing that the two kids were playing out a scene so familiar to me. Not many had ventured out in the sweltering heat that afternoon; and those who had, preferred the beach and the sea to the book fair, so I could quietly observe the two teenagers.
Her answer was invariably no. No, she hadn’t read that one either; no, this one she hadn’t read, but she was going to, she just hadn’t found the time yet. Oh… that one… great, great book, that one… read it – well, not quite, but it was all the same really, she had seen the movie and she absolutely loved it! What, it wasn’t really in the spirit of the book? Well, of course not, it couldn’t have been, it was only a movie after all, but since the movie was good anyway, she couldn’t wait to read the book! Oh, no, no, no… there wasn’t any need for him to lend her the book yet, she wanted to read a few others first… but she would definitely let him know in case she changed her mind.
The two of them had entered the book fair right in front of me and I could see them attacking the shelves and tables with great gusto. Oh, the early days of adolescent love… when you desperately want to know and like everything about the other person… when the emotional/hormonal connection is so strong, that you fool yourself into believing the two of you are connected just as strongly on every other level. (But who am I kidding? That hardly applies to adolescents alone.) He was obviously a voracious reader and he was looking forward to sharing all his thoughts with her, as well as to discovering what her preferences and opinions on the matter were. She was obviously looking forward to discovering and adoring a new side of him; but she hadn’t expected the experience to abruptly reveal a part of her she probably hadn’t considered relevant until then.
Their initial enthusiasm turned into uncomfortable silence. She became silent first, not knowing what to reply to his overwhelming literary tirade. He toned down his discourse, trying to get her to talk. He gave up on showing her books he had read and he started picking up copies of the ones he knew nothing about, reading jacket blurbs or random fragments, joking about the characters and making her laugh. Their connection was almost restored. When she finally reached out to confidently pick up a book, saying, “Look, Osho!”, his face lit up with joy. What did she think about that one, he wanted to know.
“I really love her,” she answered as enthusiastically as she could.
“The author is a guy…” he replied in a low, disappointed tone of voice.
It, it, it, she meant to say “it”; it, the book, it… they have that particular one at home, she browsed through it and she liked it.
I couldn’t help giggling and neither could the lady representing the publishing house selling the book whose author apparently had such a controversial identity. Our eyes met and we exchanged a few amused glances. As expected, the two of them never noticed; since when do adolescents in love notice anything outside their own private world?
Among the thousands of books, the girl was bound to find something she had actually read. Smiling shrewdly, she pointed in the direction of a certain bestseller, wanting to know whether he had read it. After a few evasive attempts, he blushingly confessed to have only seen the movie. The girl proudly handed him a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey, suggesting he read it as soon as possible – after all, she had read it and she strongly recommended it. The boy’s cheeks turned fifty shades of red, not knowing what to say or do next.
I buried my nose in a book, doing my best not to burst into laughter. However, it’s probably not a laughing matter that the only book the girl seemed to have read was exactly that one… But the scene in its entirety was altogether more than familiar to me. I have dragged various guys to all sorts of book fairs and book stores over the years. Some of them enjoyed it, others had to focus on not falling asleep. Sometimes it was just a random choice of something to do on a date; many other times, I would do it on purpose. I happen to believe that two people stand more of a chance to get along if they share some core values and have at least a few common interests. History has taught me that I cannot have anything more than a meaningless fling with a man who doesn’t read. Passion might be crucial in establishing a connection, but it takes passion in all its forms in order to maintain it for more than a few moments…