NOBODY will reject or dismiss the universal truth in this expression of subtle but strong motivation behind reading, so aptly captured by American literary critic Harold Bloom. Much to the contrary, most of those who find solace in reading will agree with Bloom after some initial conflict of nuances of the motivation that drives them to books. Of course, some may suspect that there is certain escapism in Harold Bloom’s statement. They may feel that there is also a negative dimension to why people take to reading so passionately. This suspicion may have some elemental realism embedded in it. But then, there need not be any conflict with that position in some minds.  

 

For, after all, reading does offer one an entry into a personal sanctuary in which one is the focal point of being -- all real or not-so-real existence, of all human emotion, of all extra-natural processes that often torment the inner zone of thought and inspiration. Reading does offer one the opportunity to keep at bay all the sorrows of familial and passional life and get immersed in something of one’s own choice that one can hold dear to heart or shun at will. Reading is something which has often occupied the inner space of sensitive humans through ages. For, it is that activity that helps one to shun all the usual life-activity and be the monarch of ideas -- and even dreams -- one holds secretly dear to one’s innermost core. In this particular statement, Harold Bloom targets human friendship as a reason of a lot of trauma, stated in fine words. He dubs friendship as something that is so likely to diminish or disappear, overcome by space, time, imperfect sympathies ...! And no one can really question his observations.

 

For, human associations are loaded down with expectations that can be fairly in conflict with one another all the time, giving rise to a tormenting tumult in the inner core of being. Unfulfilled expectations also are known to have busted a lot of verbal crap -- of loyalty, of royalty, of integrity -- that people often build around their friendship. On countless occasions, humans then arrive at a sad conclusion that their friendship was only plastic! To this reality, delving deep into pages of fine expression of human emotion and idea, thus, offers a very delightful answer.

 

Once inside a book, most readers lose themselves to the drama unfolding through words and lines and paragraphs, spreading a range of human characterisation in which they can be indulgent participants without real-life vagaries. And they can always shut the book down and keep it away for the next moment of choice of a re-entry into that literary world -- well beyond the drags of familial and passional life! Sheer bliss! -- one must say.