A Small Anecdote Of A Simple, Little, Red Book

I had the most perfect plum today for lunch. It was dark purple all the way through, and the entire thing was juicy and unbelieveably, almost shallowly and commonly, sweet.

I love reading books that I absolutely love. This book is called The Awakening by Richard M. Eyre. It has a funny story to how I found it. Ready?

I was in Carlsbad one hot summer. If I concentrated hard enough, I could figure out which one, but I don’t want to. Besides, the vagueness just makes it more universal. It was Sunday, and I was the unofficial last-minute substitute for the Primary in the one ward down there. However, all the teachers had showed up and I had an hour to kill. I didn’t want to do to Sunday School because Sunday School down in Carlsbad for the “adults” is unbelieveably boring. So I wandered around the tiny church library there. Now, this library has lesson manuals, big pictures of stories you can use to enhance the lessons, hymn books, extra sets of scriptures, chalk, pens, a copying machine, and all the things a typical LDS church library has. However, it being a small town, it also had something church libraries usually don’t have: a small collection of miscellaneous books. I wonder where these books come from, whether people are so weird as to donate them to the church library instead of just to a normal one, and of course all the books are put on the highest two shelves that exist because no one ever peruses them, but nevertheless, I get a chair and stand there for a good twenty minutes (exposing everyone who walks in looking for copies or scriptures or chalk to my behind at eye level, of course, and making the librarian chuckle) just looking at the titles and chuckling at the random stuff on that shelf. My dad stood beside me for awhile in that twenty minutes, also looking at the books; apparantly Sunday School is THAT boring, and it struck me that he never chastized me or commented on the fact that we were both in the library. I found only one book that was interesting, even though Dad found three or four, and we both borrowed them. There wasn’t a rental system of any sort because no one ever looks at those books, so we just wrote down the names of the books on a piece of paper and our phone numbers and left. This book was that one book of mine. It’s a vaguely Christian book that talks more of ideals and virtues of life than specific religion, and it does so around a very specific plot. The story is of a man… Well, here… I’ll just read you what caught my eye standing on that chair in the first place:

“I woke up in the air, only a few hundred feet above the desert, floating down. My head hurt. I knew I saw a desert (with a dirt road going through it), I knew I hung from a parachute, I knew how to bend my knees at impact. I knew how to unclip the chute. But I didn’t know who I was.”

This guy goes through a really cool discovery of who he is, what his morals and values are, what he values in life in general, and finds all the good things in between. It’s got action, adventure, and intrigue, but it’s also got very poetic prose, as well as poems that the “character” writes and very philisophical musings. The religious stuff is kept to very broad ideas and doesn’t get too specific, which I really like, but it’s also why I see this ended up in a church library. I’ve read it once and loved it, so much that, when I returned it to the library, I bought my own copy; another reason I love it is because it’s an incredibly obscure book. It’s not well-known, and thus finding a copy was hard. I’m reading it a second time. I still love it.

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About The Original Kate

Along with artistic tendencies, Kate enjoys unusual people and is constantly striving for some sort of nonconformity. Kate offers a perspective that is thoughtful but well-written and full of images within the words. Other tidbits that might intrigue: she has very long auburn hair, and, you guessed it, her favorite color is orange.

Posted on July 17, 2006, in From Rabid-Mormon Land Known As Utah. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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