They say that we only see the things that are already in our heart. I get that. For example, while I can spot a comic bookshop from miles away, I could be living next to a DIY store and I wouldn't notice. For all I know there could well be a massive B&Q right next to this house.
Or put another way, while I can never find Wally in the popular children's book Where's Wally? (a book which, personally, I would call Where the fuck is he?), I can spot an Asian woman in a crowd of thousands and thousands of people. What can I say? When I see long, shiny black hair, something inside of me just melts. (Although I'm not prejudiced against blondes and redheads. I'm very open-minded.)
A slightly different but somewhat similar experience is when we're exposed, for the first time, to certain books or movies or songs, works of art that have a special resonance, that strike a unique chord with us. I call those moments cultural epiphanies. We all have them and they are, by definition, very personal. Let me give you an example.
I remember as if it was yesterday the day I heard Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana for the first time. I was sitting at the table in the kitchen of my mum's place, having an afternoon snack. I turned on the TV and put on MTV. When the video started, and those first few chords kicked in, it just hit me. It felt like I had been waiting for that song all along, and it had finally arrived.
The thing is, there's just so much information out there that we block most of it out. We have to, otherwise we'd be overwhelmed. But among all the blurry images and the white noise in the background, some stuff just stands out for us. I'm not sure where I'm going with all this, but let me just share with you one more epiphany I had.
Let me start by saying that I don't read that many novels. Usually, If I'm not reading comics (and they do take up the lion's share), then I'm reading books about comics, or history books, or art books, or books about animals.
But there's one novel that I like very much: The Catcher in the Rye, written by J D Salinger in 1951. The book is simply about two days in the life of a teenage boy. Two consecutive days where nothing really extraordinary happens. You just see the world through the eyes of this young man, who is very disillusioned with the world of the adults, and who is very sarcastic.
While there are a few melancholic moments, the book is very funny in parts. I've read it three times already, and it cracked me up every time. (I don't want to big it up too much, though. You should know that there are many people out there who are unimpressed with that book, which is fair enough.)
Going back to epiphanies, how did I come across this book? It's not exactly the kind of book that jumps off the shelf. Apart from the title, which is off-putting to say the least (what on earth is a catcher in the rye?), the front cover of the American edition (the one I have) is completely blank, there's no synopsis at the back, and no quotes from enthusiastic reviews. Nothing whatsoever. It's almost like they don't want you to buy it. (I kinda like that, though.)
So once again, how did this book end up on my lap? It was recommended to me, many years ago, by my brother, who happened to have a copy. He made me read just the very beginning, and I was hooked. The prose was so simple and direct that, in my ignorance and naivety, I remember thinking "I didn't know you were allowed to write like that. Why isn't everyone writing like that?". I loved it. I don't know how you came across that book, bro, but I owe you one.
