Reading

With many of my friends, our phonecalls in which we "catch up" on each others' lives always include this question:

"What are you reading now?"

This generally opens floodgates of further conversation:
"oh, I just read that last year; where are you? what do you think?"
or, possibly,
"how is it? I've thought about starting that..."
or even,
"I've never heard of that; what is it?"

About two years ago, one of my dear friends asked me what I was reading. At the time, I was very busy with work and school, so my reading list was limited to menu descriptions, baking recipes, and anatomy charts, with the daily Readings in between. When I told her that I was not reading anything extra, she became very firm.
"You have to make time for it. Promise me--fifteen minutes every night, before you go to sleep."
I promised her, and quickly began to look forward to this obligated luxury of curling up with my latest choice.

Since then, I take for granted that people read regularly. Members of my family and my close friends are always in the middle of something. Exchanging recent favorites or recommending titles from the past is part of regular conversation. It mystifies me now when I hear acquaintences laugh, "I haven't read any fiction since English class in high school!"

"What?" I think. "No literature?"

Good books, great stories, provide so much perspective. To see the world through another character's eyes, to live their joys and tragedies side by side with my own, to experience their redemption, gives me either hope or gratitude.

These stories also mark the seasons of my life. The time of year is recalled simultaneously with the reading of Anna Karenina: a Connecticut winter. When she met Count Vronksy and selfishly isolated Kitty, I was looking forward to my Christmas break.
A Right to be Merry brought in springtime, at the same time heightening my awareness of the real reasons for living this life on earth.
Katherine Lavransdatter was a lot of airplane travel, as well as relaxation. She made me appreciate the unique role and responsibility of the parish priest at that time in Norway. It deepened my appreciation for the fatherly love and counsel I have received from my own parish priest. Her story also affected my outlook on the timelessness of the virtues of purity and chastity--even as I was preparing for my high school girls' retreat!
Come Rack, Come Rope was an easy two-day read recommended by one of my "Italian brothers" Alex. It was a love story of the noblest kind, encouraging me to pray for a deeper piety and a truer love for all that is good and holy.
Now I am finishing Five for Sorrow, Ten for Joy, which has fit in nicely with this season of aloneness accompanied by intense learning.

This discovery of the seasonal influence of different novels gives new motivation for continuing my promise to my friend. It is almost as though, if I'm not reading something, those weeks in my life are somewhat empty in my memory. This also leads to the realization that reading time should be spent with good books which will inspire imitation of virtue. A "waste of time" novel might end up being a danger to the fragile disposition of my soul.

I know I am just discovering for myself what most people already know. This is why Fr. Check gave me reading list during our first meeting for spiritual direction. St. Augustine was very aware, he told me, of the imagination's affect on the soul. Spiritual reading is very important for cultivating the romance between yourself and Christ.
I understand the reality of his words a little better now.

I Believe in Love is next on the list--not a novel, it's a more serious read. But I'm hoping it will prepare me for the marathon of this coming semester, as I'm getting ready to return to full-time craziness!

So, fellow bloggers, what are you reading?

Any recommendations?