reading, re-reading Amos Oz : A Tale of Love and Darkness

I read books fast and usually, read from beginning to end. That is to say, it's rare that I don't finish a book. I can skim through the dull bits and then, if I like a book I'll read it again, and again and again. I've read some books more than a dozen times. They are like houses I return to, places I have known, familiar paths upon which my feet tread. I taught myself to read before I was four. I have devoured books ever since. A day never passes where I don't read. It's a kind of addiction, a nest, an escape. When I  read I am elsewhere, ailleurs. At the moment I am reading Amos Oz, A Tale of Love and Darkness. Slowly, I savour each word, taste their distinctive flavour, nestle in the paragraphs and make myself at home. The sentences and I are slow in parting. The book lingers in my mouth like the chocolate tart I made at Christmas; I don't really want it to end. I am cooking from the book Jerusalem at the moment. Israel is in my body and mind.