Has anyone else ever read anything that made them weak in the knees? I know I can’t be the only one to have this much of a visceral reaction to reading.
1. characterized by or proceeding from instinct rather than intellect
2. characterized by or dealing with coarse or base emotions; earthy; crude
When I read something I react to on said visceral level, it’s like all my sensory/sensual pressure points have been pushed at once. My knees buckle. My eyes want to delicately water. I begin to feel a little dizzy, as if in the presence of an awesome power (with the original meaning of the word, actually inspiring awe). Shivers run up and down my spine, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little turned on.
The involvement of my intellect, engaged in the act of reading something so tremendously brilliant as to affect me thus then short-circuits, so my instincts take over and my body reacts to pleasure in the only way it knows how.
As you might imagine, this can get a little awkward when reading something in public, say, on my lunch break, or taking the bus to work. Luckily, that reaction really is reserved for the ultimate experience. When something written reaches inside of you and touches secret places that somehow combine the security of family, the fresh excitement of new love, the sexual awareness of a beginning relationship, the comfort and warmth of apple pie.
I was first introduced to her writing about five years ago. A Blind Man Can See How Much I Love You and Come to Me (for which she was a National Book Award nominee) are two of her previous collections of short stories. I’ve been waiting for a new collection ever since.
A Blind Man Can See How Much I Love You
Paperback: 9780375705571, Random House, $13.95
Come to Me
Paperback: 9780060995140, Harper, $12
I’m only halfway through, and I couldn’t wait to finish reading it before writing this post. The way she writes about love, life, and relationships is unparalleled in my experience. No judgment, but honest portrayal of real people, real life as we experience it with all the hurt that breaks us down and the tender moments that build us back up and allow us to hope. Amy Bloom makes me believe in love again. The friend who introduced me to Amy Bloom’s writing describes it as “beautiful and compassionate wreckage” – perfect.
Whose writing makes you feel this way?