Recently I got into a conversation with a colleague at work (let's call her Julie) about our favourite books and I mentioned that I'd only ever read one book four times: Robert M. Pirsig's Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance.
She expressed interest, but I had to tell her that while I would normally lend her my copy, I couldn't in this case.
You see, the fourth and last time I read it was in 2009 when my father had a stroke from which he wouldn't recover. At the time I wrote in the book things he said while I read beside him, so it has a lot of sentimental value to me.
She understood and so ordered a copy for herself. I hope she gets a lot from it and recommends it to her husband to read. I really do. It's an astonishing book. A true one-off.
Feeling an urge, I decided to reread it for the fifth time. When I opened it up, I noticed my initials and purchase date of July '99 were written on the inside cover.
Weirdly, I realised that over the last 40 years I have read this book every ten years (give or take) and worn out two previous copies in the process.
Initially, my good friend, Chris Loud, suggested I read it when he saw it at a second hand bookshop we were visiting. 'This book will change your life' was the blurb on the back cover. Sure enough. I was 23 at the time.
Subsequently, becoming a new father myself of two sons and two daughters was a transformative process in so many ways. My second reading was when I was in my early thirties trying to understand who I was all over again. The book made sense to me in different ways then.
When 1999 rolled around I was 42.
When dad passed away I was 52.
I'm currently 62 and reading this book for the fifth time. Freaky.
The book reasonates with me...Duh!
Strangely, in the past I've identified strongly with Pirsig's ghost presence in the book - Phaedrus - the English teacher who is exploring his stance on things.
This time around, having now spent ten years without my father, I'm identifying with his 11 year old son, Chris, as he struggles to understand his father.
Graham N. Purdy was a logical thinker and a quiet, often fleeting, presence in my life. A chemist, a manager, a great dad in many ways, but rarely emotive, and he wasn't a good communicator. At least, not to me.
Of course, I now realise this was partly my fault. I didn't have the right questions for him, nor the ability to persist and break down the non-communication like Chris does as an eleven year old with his persistent questions. Unlike my brother, I wasn't on my dad's wave length. Not until I became a father myself.
That's just the way it was. I can't change anything about the past. But I can understand him and more importantly, me, by reading Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance again.
Love and peace - WNP
P.S. At the same time, I'm also reading that other book in the picture - a Guidebook to ZMM: a collection of stuff about the book I bought while in England in 2018. It's an excellent companion.
No comments:
Post a Comment