Dear Reader,
I’m taking part in
’s Hope Library, a community writing event about books, stories, and poems that gave us hope (which is why I’m showing up midweek)Before I talk about the book that offered me hope at a very important time in my life, I want to talk about books and libraries.
Until about age 10, my family lived in Mumbai, India. One of my most cherished memories of that time is of being read to. There were lots of local small lending libraries, and both new and used bookstores, and reading was an integral part of our everyday life. Every evening, my mother would read to me from kids’ comics, myths, fairy tales, and other children’s books. It was the high point of my day and even after I learned to read for myself, I looked forward to her storytelling. And, so, I learned early that books were magical.
The next book-related memory that really stands out is sometime after my 10th birthday. My family had just moved to the Persian Gulf country of Oman for my Dad’s work. I still remember the day we stood outside the British Council library building, having gotten our new library cards, and the feeling of reassurance and happiness because we’d reestablished our connection to books. I still carry a vivid memory postcard of my arms weighed down with books, and walking to and from the beautiful, old library building that stood a short distance away from the scenic port overlooking the Arabian Sea.
Fast forward to my forties, and to reading The Hero with a Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell. The book suggests there is a universal pattern to mythic structure that, broadly, includes Departure, Initiation, and Return. I don’t believe there is one universal, archetypal hero’s journey. I know there are many myths don’t follow this structure. There are instances when we may need to go forward on our own hero’s journey, but individualism is not the one answer.
Having said all that, this book had the most profound impact on me. I read it while I was wandering within the maze that the middle of one’s life can sometimes be. This book offered me hope because it said there was a formula. Imagine finding a formula, a pattern, or a map- I might as well say, a way home- when you’re lost. Discovering that there were maps that might apply to our lives- what the Jungians call archetypal patterns- was life-changing. It offered profound hope, and suggested one, I wasn’t alone, and others might’ve traveled similar (though not identical) paths, and two, that there might be an eventual way out. But, that was not all. I also experienced something at a more instinctual level. It was as though something within me awoke.
Until this book, I think I took words, more or less, literally. But after reading in this book about some of the rich symbolism and imagery in fairy tales and myth, I suddenly saw words as pointing to some more profound wisdom. They were guide ropes on a mountain whose top wasn’t visible, because it was so high and shrouded by clouds.
The discovery that something mysterious might lie behind the words I read on the page was at once hope- and life-giving. It forever changed the way I read and write.
You can read more about the Hope Library community writing event here.
Best,
Priya
I love the image of the guide ropes and also I can feel with you the "reassurance" of a library card in a new city and country. That would have given me a sense of home, too. What wise parents. :-) The Hope Library is now richer for your homage to *libraries* as well as to Joseph Campbell.
This is such a vivid imagery and an impeccable image of books leading to enlightenment.
"They were guide ropes on a mountain whose top wasn’t visible, because it was so high and shrouded by clouds. "