I love stories. Now please don't take that lightly; I'm not saying this the way I say "I love ice cream". When I say "I love ice cream", all I really mean is that I think that particular food tastes exceptionally delicious. Nor do I love stories the way one loves a person; I'm not in a romantic relationship with books. I don't know if I can even put into words what I feel when I read a good story, but I think it must be a form of joy. I've been reading C.S. Lewis's "Surprised by Joy", and this passage stuck out to me as a good explanation:
"It is difficult to find words strong enough for the sensation which came over me; Milton's 'enormous bliss' of Eden (giving the full, ancient meaning to 'enormous') comes somewhere near it. It was a sensation of course, of desire; but desire for what? ...Before I knew what I desired, the desire itself was gone, the whole glimpse... withdrawn, the world turned commonplace again, or only stirred by a longing for the longing that had just ceased...an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction. I call it Joy, which here is a technical term and must be sharply distinguished both from Happiness and Pleasure. Joy (in my sense) has indeed one characteristic, and one only, in common with them; the fact that anyone who has experienced it will want it again. Apart from that, and considered only in its quality, it might almost equally well be called a particular kind of unhappiness or grief. But then it is a kind we want. I doubt whether anyone who has tasted it would ever, if both were in his power, exchange it for all the pleasures in the world."
When I finish an incredible book, I feel "an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction". Before this moment I had no name for it, but now I realize good stories bring me joy. It's like inhaling outside on an exceptionally freezy winter day. The air is so cold it hurts as it brushes the back of your throat, and your teeth throb; yet I always relish that first breath.
Books are entertainment. Some are good entertainment, some are lousy. I've read all kinds of books, some mediocre, some bad, but only a few really good. My favorites are either beautiful in ideas and writing, or they are an exceptionally well-told story. A kind of Joy can hide in both kinds. Some books are so well-written that I read them just so I marinate in a well-worded thought or an unbelievable description. Some books I love only for the Hero's story. The Lord of the Rings is the prime example of that; a story which, in itself, inspires me. After finishing both types of stories I am struck with the desire to read it again, if only so I can feel that feeling I get at the last sentence.
Last year for school I did my research paper on what makes a good story. It was, of course, divided into "character, plot, and writing" as the three main things that make a good story, but in reality, that wasn't what I thought of when I thought of a good story. A good story resonates with me. In the last paragraph of the paper I tried to grasp this feeling:
The world overflows with beautiful things- many which we look on with awe, and rightly so. However, a story is one of the most striking things I know. Not every story. Not even most stories. But good stories. Ones that grab a hold of you and don’t let go. They aren’t just stories, they are words that dig deep inside of you to touch one gentle finger against your beating heart. Long after their covers are closed, you are left shivering from the little mark they left behind. It is when I feel these melt against the warmth of my core that the longing comes over me to hear it again, to find another book as glorious as the one I’ve just finished. I desire to find words that describe the heart so clearly and letters strung together so perfectly that when my thoughts stop whirling around I am left with more than a dull ache. I am longing for something that reaches beyond simple writings, unremarkable characters, and an ordinary plot. I am longing for the extraordinarily beautiful; a good story.
Do you understand now why I say I love books? Because I've found in them a satisfaction I have yet to discover in most other areas of my life. One thing I know, Joy is much more than a good story, much deeper than well placed words, and a lot more complicated than I understand. I'm just attempting to show you why I read so much, why I go to the library. Partly because I love words, partly because I love stories, and partly because I'm looking for a distraction, but mainly because I have a good aftertaste in my mouth, and want just one more bite.
It's funny because I can never actually catch this Joy. I can only capture the feeling that it's been here, and wish that it will visit me again. And so I'm left chasing a dream, or perhaps only a dream of a dream. And occasionally God, in his grace, grants me a taste, and if only for a moment, I'm content, satisfied, and something better or worse than happiness. But then the dream ends and I wake up alone and breathless, longing for something that was never really mine. Yes, I love stories.
*to be continued in a later post
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