I skipped February's book of the month because I only managed to read one book - Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins - which was anything but enjoyable.
However, my book of the month for March actually surprised me whilst I was reading it. I developed an unexpected attachment for this one - unexpected in light of the fact that I only read it because it was on my University reading list!
In this remarkable autobiography, Thomas De Quincey hauntingly describes the surreal visions and hallucinatory nocturnal wanderings he took through London-and the nightmares, despair, and paranoia to which he became prey-under the influence of the then-legal painkiller laudanum. Forging a link between artistic self-expression and addiction, Confessions seamlessly weaves the effects of drugs and the nature of dreams, memory, and imagination. First published in 1821, it paved the way for later generations of literary drug users, from Baudelaire to Burroughs, and anticipated psychoanalysis with its insights into the subconscious.
Confessions surprised me not only because it was actually very easy to read (it was a nice break from Wordsworth/Byron/Austen, 5 points if you can guess which of my modules this is from!) but also because I found myself able to relate to Quincy during his lower moments. Not that I'm a drug addict with racist tendencies suffering from hallucinations and nightmares due to my long term consumption of opium as a means of escape.
Feeling low is something we all experience in life and it's something not a lot of people, myself included, find easy to talk about. But there's something cathartic about being able to observe the beginning, middle and ending of someone else's suffering. Reading Quincy's experience; including the reasons why he began taking opium and why he found it difficult to stop, made me realise just how easy it is to become reliant on something external to distract you from internal conflict. A modern day equivalent to Quincy's opium addiction would probably be smoking, taking drugs, drinking (alcohol) and possibly even self harm.
It's not often that I find myself relating to a character in a book - especially one written so long ago, but I think this just goes to show that literature is universal.
Feeling low is something we all experience in life and it's something not a lot of people, myself included, find easy to talk about. But there's something cathartic about being able to observe the beginning, middle and ending of someone else's suffering. Reading Quincy's experience; including the reasons why he began taking opium and why he found it difficult to stop, made me realise just how easy it is to become reliant on something external to distract you from internal conflict. A modern day equivalent to Quincy's opium addiction would probably be smoking, taking drugs, drinking (alcohol) and possibly even self harm.
It's not often that I find myself relating to a character in a book - especially one written so long ago, but I think this just goes to show that literature is universal.
![Songs of Innocence and of Experience [Illustrated]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_u_Jf8xwxZRFdas9o70O8amgyNAELhHQwV7jE94ag9TBuxFU3jl66wHWVmJRA8SkAGl06gj91KJH2VA1SQi4ajCpYjAsaCJwP8Jape_1m98YRLvkkhstyxp51KG7-SXYw=s0-d)
= I didn't like it!
Posts
