When I was in my early twenties I read a lot of mysteries. Dorothy Sayers, Nagaio Marsh, and Agatha Christie. Then I decided I was not improving myself by doing so, and I stopped. I was embarrassed then to be caught reading a mystery. Now, in my early sixties, I am back reading mysteries, and really having fun. And, of course, I don't give a hoot what people think about it. I guess I've given myself permission to be trivial. Also, I've read enough heavy duty classics and complex novels, biographies and non-fiction that I can rest on my laurels. I adore Elizabeth George, Cara Black, Harlen Coben, John Lescroat, and new writers like Tana French and Cordelia Read. So is there a theme here? Was I preoccupied with death early on - and now I clearly know it's round the bend for me - I want to tiptoe around the subject of mortality? That may be rationalizing. I do think suspense fiction just gets better and better, and compares well with fiction. I must say, I like non-fiction reading the best. I like to hear a true story. Not crime, just people's lives and how complex and interesting they are, whether they are famous or not. Memoirs are great, because that allows non-famous people to tell their stories. I think I like to be part of a tribe. A tribe of imperfect, complex, struggling beings.
And at this time in my life, so many friends and aquaintances have died that it's becoming familiar territory. That is maybe one thing aging does for people, lets them slowly adjust to the inevitable. That's why we all feel the death of a young person as tragic. I had some death to face as a child - an uncle I adored, my grandmother, my first boyfriend at 12 - and perhaps that was the fascination with mysteries when I was out of college. I also think I loved drama more - the buzz of extreme situations and the thrill of danger. But since I was a wimp in real life, I lived vicariously through these books. Now I'm an older wimp, and I hope a wiser one. I don't wish drama on anyone, and appreciate the calm, balanced life of a careful intention. But that little glimpse of chaos beyond is somehow important to me. It's like touching a snake - delicately, with trepidation, but knowing the creature is in and around your life, and you share the earth with it.
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