Yesterday was World Book Day, And among all the book-related posts I enjoyed online, this piece in The Atlantic stood out to me. It explores why we revisit our childhood books and how doing so benefits us.
This Wombat Friday, my sidekick T-Dub is enamored with Queen Victoria. After reading The Atlantic’s article, it’s fitting to share this book with him. It’s been a friend to me for thirty-one years.
When I was thirteen, I saw Victoria at a bookstore and asked my dad if I could have it. It was a bit pricy so I wasn’t surprised when he said no, but I was terribly disappointed.
Several months later, it was wrapped and waiting for me under the Christmas tree. I hugged it close, honored that he had remembered.
I was drawn to the book because I had developed a love for Sherlock Holmes, initially because of the Jeremy Brett adaptations. I had devoured Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s stories at a feverish pace and a passionate curiosity for the Victorian era was born. I craved more knowledge about the 19th century and this biography was a superb introduction.
The right books seem to find us at the right times, don’t you think? For me, Victoria by Stanley Weintraub was a book that led to other books. And it was the source of a lesson that, sometimes, if you want something you should just wait. It will come.