A bookish moment (National Post, June 19, 1999)

By Barbara Kay

It was 1952, and I was a nine-year-old tomboy. I loved

reading -- mostly cowboy comics, or dog and horse stories. Suddenly,

I became very sick with nephritis. The doctor prescribed five weeks

of flat-on-my-back rest. What I remember is reading all day long,

mostly with my arms straight up, the books above my head.

Exasperated by her frequent trips to the library, my mother

deposited an enormous tome on my night table. The book was Look

Homeward, Angel by Thomas Wolfe, my first "adult" book. I devoured

it, then the great sequels. The genius and raw power of his prose

sucked me into a lifetime love affair with literature, and I closed

a circle when I wrote my master's thesis on Wolfe. Fat books still

appeal. I recently read Tom Wolfe's (no relation) A Man in Full.

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