I am a reader, not one of those so called writers.
Mine is the unseen, unrewarded work, without which written words have no reason to be. I do not need to be fair. Faceless as I am, I am the final judge of books. I cut books to my size.
I determine - with my powers to understand and my view - what is in fact written there on the pages. Gifted indeed the writer able to influence my "reader response" to join his view.
The intentions I discern are the ones that come to be real. The ugliness I see, be it my own, becomes the author's. The beauty I see, is my gift to him, to her. For everybody knows that beauty is solely in the eyes of the beholder.
Lucky the pen strong enough to carry me with its flow, the one sharp enough to get past my armour !
When I am a bad reader I look with slant eyes to catch the mistake; weakness found makes me feel better. When I am indifferent, I lean back and say "amuse me, let me see what you are worth, clown!"
When I am of the good ones, I knock, ask the books questions and try to wake up the sleeping wisdom in them, I adorn them generously with the beauty and the thoughts found in me; I colour them with the living sap of my experiences...
Then, books glow.
Where is the monument to the nameless reader?
Mine is the unseen, unrewarded work, without which written words have no reason to be. I do not need to be fair. Faceless as I am, I am the final judge of books. I cut books to my size.
I determine - with my powers to understand and my view - what is in fact written there on the pages. Gifted indeed the writer able to influence my "reader response" to join his view.
The intentions I discern are the ones that come to be real. The ugliness I see, be it my own, becomes the author's. The beauty I see, is my gift to him, to her. For everybody knows that beauty is solely in the eyes of the beholder.
Lucky the pen strong enough to carry me with its flow, the one sharp enough to get past my armour !
When I am a bad reader I look with slant eyes to catch the mistake; weakness found makes me feel better. When I am indifferent, I lean back and say "amuse me, let me see what you are worth, clown!"
When I am of the good ones, I knock, ask the books questions and try to wake up the sleeping wisdom in them, I adorn them generously with the beauty and the thoughts found in me; I colour them with the living sap of my experiences...
Then, books glow.
Where is the monument to the nameless reader?
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