As I get older, I have this apprehension of revisiting. Not places but myself, in the past. The me, who went crazy over a fad or a film or a pop star. You know the moment when you look back at an episode or phase in your life, or encounter again a guy you had this huge crush on and you say to yourself, “WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?”
But I realise you never can go wrong with books. Good ones that take your breath away then and still have the power to do it again now. One that really stuck with me through the years is this narrative called ‘I Capture the Castle’ by Dodie Smith. I first read the book when I was probably about fifteen and completely fell in love with it.
The main character, the seventeen year old Cassandra Mortmain enamoured me. I admired her voice and her head. I could relate to her even if she was living at the other side of the world and in a different era. And of course her quiet romance with the gentle, kind and almost perfect Simon Cotton was enviable.
A couple of weeks ago, I chanced upon it at the Tampines library and borrowed it. I managed to finish it in a night last Thursday. It was somewhat odd having the same feelings course through me as I was reading the words and visualising the scenes in my mind. The going-on thirty year old me still had the same appreciation for the book. I didn’t feel silly or question my taste and judgement. In a way, I felt comforted. Like it was some kind of affirmation of the person I had become.
Perhaps, it’s just the timeless nature of well-thought out words; efficacious and emotive, no matter what age we’re in.
“Contemplation seems to be about the only luxury that costs nothing”
I Capture the Castle
But I realise you never can go wrong with books. Good ones that take your breath away then and still have the power to do it again now. One that really stuck with me through the years is this narrative called ‘I Capture the Castle’ by Dodie Smith. I first read the book when I was probably about fifteen and completely fell in love with it.
The main character, the seventeen year old Cassandra Mortmain enamoured me. I admired her voice and her head. I could relate to her even if she was living at the other side of the world and in a different era. And of course her quiet romance with the gentle, kind and almost perfect Simon Cotton was enviable.
A couple of weeks ago, I chanced upon it at the Tampines library and borrowed it. I managed to finish it in a night last Thursday. It was somewhat odd having the same feelings course through me as I was reading the words and visualising the scenes in my mind. The going-on thirty year old me still had the same appreciation for the book. I didn’t feel silly or question my taste and judgement. In a way, I felt comforted. Like it was some kind of affirmation of the person I had become.
Perhaps, it’s just the timeless nature of well-thought out words; efficacious and emotive, no matter what age we’re in.
“Contemplation seems to be about the only luxury that costs nothing”
I Capture the Castle
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