Repetition

Do it again. That’s how we learn how to do things. It’s how we become ourselves. Patterns of behaviour, thought, emotion. But there’s a philosophical dilemma in there somewhere. Can we really repeat something. I read a book about it by Kierkegaard once. Now I can’t remember what it said. But I can’t bear to read it again. Life’s too short. Too many other books, too many other books by Kierkegaard, clamour for my attention. It would be a crime to re-read Repetition.
To pull this apart for a moment - I’m listening to Patti Smith’s Horses. I must have heard it a thousand times. I’ll never grow tired of it. But I can’t bring myself to re-read a book. I rarely watch a film more than a couple of times. Even though I’ve got videos of films I loved and intend to watch again, I never bother.
Is it about time? It takes a long time to read a book. Time is expensive.
Is it because you can’t write, cook, have sex, talk to someone etc while reading a book. So there’s some pressure – don’t waste that time reading a book twice.
It takes me a few listens to get into a record. I don’t get bored of the good ones. Same goes for poems. Probably the same would be true of books. But they are our enemies, they are stealing our time. They forbid us to read in a way that would be truly satisfying, instead they are all trying to fill us with an insecurity – there are so many books out there that you will never read. Books that would change your life, make you laugh, make you cry, make you cool, make you sophisticated.
I’m going to try to resist. Those books, they are destroying us.