 |
 |
Read and Remember Oh I used to have such a good memory. Nowadays, halfway through a book I find I must have read it before. So far in and unawares!ı Yes, Mum.ı Lately Iım falling constantly into recalling, at least seeming to recall, my mother when she was at my age now, saying this. Iıd say: there there, you still enjoyed it, didnıt you?ı Thinking: no way Iıll ever get like her. No! Reading is so serious. Her reading feet up, in slippers, between morning chores and eveningıs, free of Dad, kids and kitchen anything that took her away to other company. Now I find Iım saying to myself: havenıt I read this before? how come so little stuck? why read on if so little or even less will stick this time? All those years when I taught, it didnıt do to forget. What I read was classics, the honoured, rereadable, the rememberable. Now Iım free, everythingıs to enjoy, even this earnest Life of Muhammad (slowly accruing honour in his own country), which no-oneıs going to test me on. Somethingıs gone missing. I read and reread a sentence of obvious importance. If I mastered it, maybe one day itıd help me win an argument. Who with? With whom? With the dogs, affable in their ignorance, the blithe birds in the park. The expert on Islam on the tv screen. Wednesday 1 August 2007 Max Richards Doncaster, Victoria