Love lost, but light gained…

My precious book stash? I bet you have one, too. Books, many falling apart, saved throughout a lifetime, continuing to exert a strong pull on our memories and hearts. In my case, replete with oodles of lessons that helped inform my life choices and filled with language, so elegiac, I can easily quote from memory.

Let’s face it. The long-term presence of these books has become an emotional security blanket for me. One of the much-read-ones will catch my eye, and suddenly, I’m pulled back to another time in my life, to the “Jan” I was when first opening that particular book. A veritable time machine with the power to instantly catapult me back through decades of my growth as a human being. (You, too?)

I needed a respite from reality. Went “respite-hunting” through my well-loved book stash for a literate mystery, undergirded by a sense of humor. Ah, found my book. The spine was approaching decrepitude, but still couldn’t recall the last time I’d read it. Eons?? Ready to settle in, release the reins of responsibility, and escape…

No. No. No.

Appalled. Just appalled. This particular mystery series was very popular when I sequentially devoured many of its books in the 1980s. (Gulp, gulp, gulp!) But, now, with more culturally-sensitive eyes, I could see the sexism and racism in the language. I’d loved this series! Seriously embarrassed by my blind reading adoration and ashamed of myself. (Ok, ok, let’s stop with the self-flagellation; we’re all young once and and need to make our mistakes somewhere.)

Yet, I still need to ask how I could read and love this series? Point and counterpoint. Snappy and humorous repartee, good writing, a central and comedic relationship between Black and White characters, a strong woman protagonist, literary allusions, and embedded with some great life lessons. What was not to like? I mean, the general public adored this series.

Wait a minute, could I receive a moral pass based on the books’ initial public acclaim? Nope. Let’s take a little personal responsibility here! I loved those books during an era when some of our cultural beliefs were antiquated, hurtful, and we hadn’t yet seen the light. A goodly portion of our cultural beliefs are wise and caring. Others, quite frankly, stink, but you don’t know that until, as a young ‘un, you’ve already breathed them in - hook, line, and sinker. (Glug, glug.)

It’s only later, often years later, that I read a portion of a book and feel my eyes bugging out of my head. Oh, no! I adored this? OMG, I DID swallow the book’s written cultural bias. Of course, like many of us, the book’s author was also subject to the accepted culture of that period.

All of us human, human, human…just what it is.

I’m grateful for beginning to remove my old cultural cataracts. And sad, you bet, due to the loss of these previously well-loved books (6 of them!) The dated cultural language becomes a huge obstacle to e-s-c-a-p-e. Such a bummer!

And now, where to go for a bit more light? Winnie the Pooh? “No one can be uncheered by a balloon.” Too short. What about: “How fleeting are all human passions compared with the massive continuity of ducks.” (Gaudy Night, Dorothy Sayers.) Gonna go with the ducks! Get your water wings on and I’ll meet you there! A book first read 50+ years ago. Heading for that elegiac old chestnut wherein the words still sing to me today.

Hope my writing offers you heart-opening and humor-filled moments. Please share “This Being Human Thing” with others who might feel nurtured by it.