Dear Readers,
The symbol of the book is considered sacred when it transmits God’s revelations to men. Islam for instance places specially importance on the written word given that a Muslim is supposed not only to read but also to copy the Qu’ran. In Christianity, the apostles are currently depicted holding a book, which symbolizes the message of Christ. The king of the World, the Pancreator, is usually portrayed holding a book in which contains the lives of men as well as the Alpha and Omega of the Universe. In Ancient Egypt, the Book of the Dead, ridden of magic and sacred formulas, is said to guide the soul in the afterlife.
The book as we can see has mainly a positive connotation in written cultures. Yet, the book can be seen as an enemy of memory. Indeed, in certain oral traditions, the book is seen as an enemy since it destroys the effort of learning “by heart” the oral teachings.
Now you take the floor: what do you associate with the book?
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If worldly wisdom is considered like a butterfly, then the book is like the metaphorical net. It aspires to capture the information that is naturally free-flowing and endless.
The book is the ultimate “silent” protest; better than a hunger strike!!
Today I took my 18 year old son to the airport, he is starting on his own path and a journey to the other side of the world, I gave him the Alchemist to take with him. This journey is something he really wanted to do, and your book was just the right thing to give him. Thank you.
Booka represent knowledge, power and comfort to me.
“The Book” is a breathing entity, a compilation of thoughts which triggers infinite new thoughts, it’s unique to also be a powerful machine which heals or destroys.
A Sacred Book is the finest example of this duality.
a doorway
I associate a book with excitement!!! sacredness, knowledge!!!
Some people share their soul in their books!!!
What can I say, I just love books, my nighttable is full of books, my bedroom is full with books, some I read, some still waiting to be read, some I read and come back to them from time to time.
Every time I get a new book I am exited!!!
Books remind me of you Paulo!!!
Books can give you a refuge when you are feeling lost and do not know where can you look at to start feeling better.
Like if you were in the middle of a storm.
Then books can offer you a kind of support. They are not going to end with your agony and despair, of course not. But at least they can make you feel that you are not alone.
And you have to go on, even if you can no longer bear the sadness.
Because it is very dark when you have lost the Joy, the confidence, the Light.
It´s so dark, that you have even lost the desire to die.
Books in all the senses you mentioned are symbols of power over the masses not positive associations at all. Literacy did to go hand and hand with the books and it was that disconnect that represented the tyranny. Even today “book smart” people are often regarded as suspicious by the “common man”. And in the vast experience of humanity on the planet, books do not even exist. But basically I disagree with your first unstated assumption that if a book is used as a religious support then it is of a positive nature. I would think many cultures that have been obliterated would disagree as well as the victims of culture wars based on totalitarian interpretation of religious texts, from honor killings to homosexuals, to etc. So I would appreciate you addressing that. I love my books today, but it has no roots in any religious appreciation of the written word.
I think books, and more deeply, writin’ black on white.. it’s a travel trhough times and minds.
It’s different from video or something like that.. A book need time, peace, mind and heart to be read. Let’s think to be write..!
A book become a connection with mind and reflections of another person. A book can travel through years and give us tales or thinks from the past surprisin’ us to be often actual!
A book need patient and time like live a person.
??? t h e b o o k ???
hm… i guess its my work, so what i am thinking about that..
grrrrr, still a little bit “wordless” ;-)
but its ok,
****the mind born the words ****
and
***it takes how long it takes (GaWaNi Pony Boy) ****
blessings
Nia Wind
The Dream, again…
Book, yes, not abyss. Here’s my split.
I really liked what I read there. Thank you all.
Thank you for raising this question, Paul. It is especially pertinent with people reading so much more on the internet. Nothing can replace a book. It is a sensory experience. Having the weight in your hand, the smell and texture of the paper…
As far as the written word, stories written down are constructed with forethought. The reader is able to stop midway and think about what was expressed. It may certainly affect memory of full stories, but it also contributes to memory and allows people to reread and review.
There’s nothing like a story told aloud. But there’s also no replacement for a book.
Hi Paulo,
Yes, a book is a book is a book. But Christos Pantokrator is all books bound, in Him is all truth, and life.
Steve
I have just finished, again and again, the ALCHEMIST, and as in …classical music, every time you ‘hear’ new sounds.
I was thinking about the BOOK and here it is: the book of wisdom, the Emerald book of life.thanks to the internet that makes everything within our reach quickly and thanks to you, Paulo Coelho the Magus, with your questions you guide us to the ..ZERO POINT.
LOVE,
THELMA
A boook??….could be the most powerful yet fail to blossom in the minds of the readers,
sometimes a boook is too powerful you fear reading it, like the Qur’an…i havent read it for a very long time because the words carry a charge i cant take…
but i need to ask Mr. Coelho, and i hope he could answer me, ive read almost all your major work and the last book i enjoyed alot had been Brida, my point is I live in fear, the fear that makes me wake up at night thinking,,,i wasnt like that,i tried to ease my head through a book or a little journey, but my soul need something, maybe a magical spell that could reveal the secret of my unsettled soul…i hope you could help me …
i still think that the alchemist is my little prayer,
pour plus de précision,sur ce que j’ai dis hier au soir.ce je dirais que la parole a un temps déterminée,celui qui parle et celui qui a écouté,puis la mémoire restitue ou pas.le livre lui est une autre forme de notre parole,de notre pensée,que l’homme a découvert ou a créé?son temps de vie est différent,même si ce que l’on lit suivant notre état d’esprit peut être ressenti et interprété de façon différente,ce que vous avez écris il y a 20ans,sont toujours là sous cette même forme qu’il y a 20ans.(je pense qu’il est plus juste de parler de forme que de matière,puiqu’au niveau physique elle est partout sous des formes différentes)i’ll try if i could to write here in english the next time,i don’t know if the translation is so good.it’s difficult for me to express deep things in another language,like a book,it’s just so big!
book for me is nourish for my mind. especially sacred book and wise books. but like foods, i usually take it for granted and sometimes i do not pay attention. it might be a digress but i saw a poor village on tv. they had little food to eat and few books to read. but i had an impression that they know something vital. so i guess it does not matter how many books you have or what. you can learn things from very limited resource i think. love
All art is an attempt to leave a mark or be remembered and sometimes is an attempt at manipulating the present moment. This is not to say art does not serve other purposes for the artist. It’s all in how one looks at it and when the written word is used to “preserve” a snapshot of the present moment, that “memory” logos is trying to preserve is filtered through an individual consciousness that can manipulate context with the semantics.
I look at the written word as an extension of memory. Sometimes as an attempt to share one’s memory with others to lend a common understanding. The only negative aspect I see with the written word is that of masculinist discourse. It is linear logic that manipulates context to persuade others into thinking or believing the word is “fact” and should be revered. Truth does not necessarily equal fact. Thus, the written word is meant to be a form of communication and a tool of consciousness. Communication should necessarily have more that one person involved. The word, written linearly, to impart knowledge and “absolute truth” as an attempt to influence so as to control, is misrepresenting the purpose of logos. Man’s arrogance at its height of purported reason…
Many believe God’s revelations to men in the Sacred scripture has ended, and was done once and for all. Not me. Often I hear the voice of the Lord speaking when reading spiritual literature.
In the beginning of our century children had to learn numerous religious hymns by heart in the schools. I was always very impressed how my own mom knew all verses of so many songs, by heart. My generation went to the book school. We had song books, and gone were the old automated knowledge which wouldn’t be forgotten.
My mother grew up on a farm. When she retired she decided to write the story about her childhood, how the entire life at the farm was, to give the story to her grandchildren. The book got published by a local publisher, and to my family, this book is of enormous value for our identity, and for the young generation to understand how much life has changed, and what their grandmother did for fun when she grew up. Had she not written all this down, the story would have been lost, when her life is over. Now it can live on, and be shared by many more individuals from the same area, which have had similar experiences.
I may add. My mother has huge ambitions. She was rather mifft she only sold 800 copies of her book, when J.K. Rowling could sell all those millions Harry Potter books! Now, she is studying a writers course. She will never allow a local publisher to print her books again, with no promotion. She already has several manuscripts, which have been turned down by the larger national publishers. Oh, dear mom, sometimes I miss you…. Also, I no doubt miss her father, my grandfather, who used to tell us stories, and make so many scary faces, we would scream out loud. A voice in a book still cannot compare to hearing the voice from person to person.
Books, what would we do without them, like people they are very varied and some give us the feeling we are not alone, some we don’t understand, some we like, some we don’t, but every time we learn to somehow see things through the eyes of another fellow human being and a glimps of what moves them and it broadens our horizon.
la pensée,puis la parole sont immatérielles,elles traversent le temps par la mémoire de ceux qui ont écouté et appris,puis qui transmettent,mais la mémoire peut défaillir et la parole devient déformée.l’écriture,le livre,sont la pensée,la parole devenues matière figée dans le temps,et celui qui écrit reste responsable de ses écris tant que ceux-ci existent.j’espère que je n’ai pas dis des bêtises!
yes Cat, u can’t juge a book by looking at the cover!
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=VxkxTIZmE3Q
“THE SONG OF THE DESERT” a very melodic, sad song, dear Paul from Austria, just because you mentioned Paulo’s book the ‘Tears of the desert’.
The book! Our best friend, the first ‘Alphabetarion’, the first steps to learn how to read. The doors leading to knowledge. The BOOK of life.
When I was a child, I had -and still have- a byzantine icon of St. Andreas, in my bedroom. His is holding a cross and a Book. My mother used to tell me ‘whatever you do or think, he can see it and he writes it in the Book, he is holding’. So I consider it to be my ….biography and my conscience. Even if we forget things or pretend we have forgotten, ‘scripta manent’ used to teach us our latin teacher.
You have many, 100million books, up to now, our Paulo Coelho to mark your passing from this life!! Thank you once again.
LOVE,
THELMA
The Book is a place where parents and their children, teachers and students meet to express the soul’s wisdom..
.. to all arrive and “be on the same page”…
common ground.
A book is a precious treasure… a box full of wisdom.
Our school text books seem to become part of ourselves/ our learning career.
BUT, You never ever ever should write in a book, except in pencil! to do so would be sacriledge… arrogant, selfish to the infinite nature of learning and knowledge.
Books are able to be categorised… fiction,paperback; non-fiction,hardback; reference… and as such have their own place in our hierarchy of intellectual status.
The greatest book in my opinion is not the factual one but those which are biographies of the soul’s (inner)life: the song of/for freedom.
Books have character… like the smell of the paper.. which entwines with the story and lingers longer; one can be recalling the tale just by the smell of the book’s paper..
The book is like a song or symphony….
The first few pages can either capture you and leave one humming the tune for days, weeks…
or it can be so boring that maybe you have to read the last page in order to end the book..
One can either feel safe within those pages, inspired or agitated.
A library is like a church for humankinds experiences; open to all who are ready to embrace life’s magic, pilgrims words et al.
A collection of one’s own books are almost a record of one’s emotions, life.. where the reader can return time and time again.
Lastly of course, one of the first pieces of wisdom I recall hearing: that you should never judge a book by its cover…
While the Heart is a dominant compass on our road, the Book is its ‘First Aid Kit’ when we stumble. While the Heart is a weapon, the Book is the elixir when we are wounded.
But, the elixir is curative if consumed in drops; and although the cocoon of books may be a good shelter from hail, we should beware not to be trapped and just sit on that road…
Love,
ap
This made me think of how stories in my family would be passed down. My younger sister’s version would be seen through rose coloured glasses, my version would have a large middle section left out as I have an atrocious memory. So I personally thank God for books.
For me personally, they have been an opportunity to learn at my own pace, they have been a friend when I’ve been down, they have inspired me to change the direction of my life (thanks Paulo for that one) and they have been adventure and wonderment, contact with other people around the world who have shared their thoughts on paper and break barriers of race and culture – make you realise how the world is one large family.
Kathleen xxoo
Books represent knowledge for me – plus its a rest and also an escape from the world, to loose yourself in a fantastic book ,for me its soul food ..nourishment and comforting just like when a mother reads a story to children – but as much as I love books ..I also love just made up or told stories from your imagination ( spirit )
A book can sometimes be like a best friend -cup of coffee in one hand and a great story in the other . Blessings Tania
Hi everybody,
A book is a wonderfull tool to spread information or knowledge. The idea that everyone can read the same book and find his message in that same book, is what makes it special reading a book. But writting word is not all…
What is it worth reading every book in the world and gatherig all that knowledge, but not being able of using that knowledge in the real world that is around us. Books are one way of experiencing something. But it is very important not to forget, that the person that wrote the book also experienced that first in the real world before writing it down.
I do not want to judge on books but it is not up to the book to be good or not. It is what you do with the knowledge you get out if it.
Love and respect,
Marcel
Yes indeed was seen also as enemy,in my nation,our forfathers,didnt wrote anything and a great culture was lost.For me books might be only sacred,I need to read like I need to breath fresh air.They were considered sactred also because for long time monks were the only persons wrote them,or few nobles.Also religion dictate the language in wich books might be written.According to Cervantes ,books might be dangerous,poor Don Quijote had lost contact with reality and was mad because too much reading romance books.
I think books can be of better use if you have somebody wiser than you to guide your lectures.The lectures might be otherwise tough like a labirynth.
The Book? “The Big Baggy Monster”–that’s the first thing that comes to my mind, a term that one of my former professors always used to describe the novel. It was fitting, for him, I suppose. He was a quiet man who wrote burningly brilliant books. I had travelled half way around the world to study with him, only to learn that he could no more explain the alchemy he created within those pages than I could explain the theory of relativity. It came naturally to him, this magic, but it was not something that he could teach or define. And everywhere that he went–whether to lunch, or to the classroom, or even to a meeting–he always had with him this huge stack of dog-eared folders, battered notebooks, loose papers and library books: the research he was engaged in as preparation for his next novel. Thus, for him, I can see why the term “Big Baggy Monster” seemed to fit, for that’s precisely what each new book was to him–this Big Baggy Monster he had to wrestle with, lugging it around for months, until he finally managed to pin the thing to the ground, or rather to the page.
For me, the book, it is not that–not some Big Baggy Monster I must contend with. It will not devour me. It will not chew me up and spit me out. It isn’t the Albatross I must wear around my neck either. It is, rather, something small but sharp, like shards of broken glass that must be swept up. Yes, like that! Like a treasure I once found on a city street early one morning while out cycling. The whole street and part of the sidewalk was littered with broken glass. Apparently there had been an auto accident during the night, and a car window had been shattered into a million tiny fragments. It was beautiful as it shimmered in the morning light. I thought, “Yes! I must make something of this.” I knew not what, but something. This heap of glimmering black glass, was simply too breathtaking, too rare, too provocative to pass up. And, so, without delay, I hurried home and came back with a dust pan, a hand broom, and a plastic bag, all inside my backpack. If anyone saw me there on the sidewalk sweeping up that glass, surely they thought me insane. I did not care. All I knew was that this raw material was something that I wanted to work with. And so I did. At first it was difficult, and excruciatingly slow. There were sketches, and more sketches, drafts and more drafts. And then finally I had a clear and precise outline upon which to begin to produce my collage. After that, the challenges revolved around technique. At first I tried working with gloves on, to protect my fingers, but that was too clumsy. Then I tried applying the shards of glass, piece by piece, with tweezers. But that was too slow! Finally, I just used my fingers, the tips of which soon became sore with tiny cuts. More than once a piece of glass became lodged in my skin and I had to extract it with a magnifying glass and a needle. Yet, gradually, little-by-little, the figure that had once existed only in my mind, then only in rough sketches, began to take shape. And more than shape–form! And more than form–life! The dark tinted glass that had once formed someone’s car window was now the eyes, the nose, the mouth, of the face I saw in the mirror. I titled it “Self-portrait.”
In the end, I don’t think the medium really matters: mixed media bounded by a black frame, or black ink on white paper bounded by the covers of a book. We all have our individual ways of pulling form from darkness–like the Creator who breathed the breath of life onto the face of the deep. And so, my book could never be a Big Baggy Monster. Rather, it would have to be the remnants of an accident, the naked remains of a tragedy, in which only I could see the potential of a work of art being brought to life. And would I cut my fingers again on the shattered fragments? Would I wince as the words made my fingertips bleed? Yes, because those shattered fragments you see there on the pavement, that heap of glass shimmering with potential–it is me. As I type, word-by-word, as I place each shard carefully, I not only formulate my future but re-write my past. It is only the medium that limits us; the storyline, like the outline of the figure in the portrait, is completely mutable.
Un libro es como un amuleto contra el tiempo, es un guia y un maestro.
Las palabras se escriben para ser recordadas, como todo tiene un fin en el mundo.
Como todo amuleto, quizás nos de las fuerzas para aprender de él, o bien la quietud de decir, como esta escrito mañana lo leere.
Es cierto que un maestro es mas estricto que un libro, pero el libro es para todos, y la enseñanza oral para unos pocos.
De esta manera queria incar pie en Leonardo Da Vinci y su peculiar código de escritura, que puede ser que fuera la combinación entre no olvidar su conocimiento y no dejarlo fácilmente en manos ajenas.
Es solo una opinión.
Book… a very short word for everything what a book can do so much in our character, our imagination, like simply in our lives.
If for some a threat for the survival of its cultures, other many could be the book, a book is a door always opened to a world where we can be submerged, forgetting by moments that we existed, that in our lives could have thousand problems or thousand joys, but equal way we must respect the cultures where the word to always had the power to spend centuries of knowledge…
I in the individual remain with books, being these written words, whenever she wishes to return to hear them single I must open a few pages and imagine the voice of the soul of that decided to pass its knowledge not only to few so that these did as well the same, but to which anywhere in the world will be reading to a same time a history that will mark its existence for always…
Although he would be wonderful to be able to hear of the voice of Paulo all and each one of histories that reflect the heart of the universe…
Libro… una palebra muy corta para todo lo que un libro puede hacer tanto en nuestro caracter, nuestra imaginación, como simplemente en nuestras vidas.
Si para algunos pudiese ser el libro una amenaza para la supervivencia de sus culturas, para otros muchos, un libro es una puerta siempre abierta a un mundo donde nos ppodemos sumergir, olvidando por unos instantes que exitimos, que en nuestras vidas pudiesen haber mil poblemas o mil alegrías, pero de igual manera debemos respetar las culturas donde la palabra a tenido siempre el poder de pasar siglos de conocimiento…
Yo en lo particular me quedo con los liros, siendo estos palabras escritas, siempre que desee volver a oirlas solo debo abrir unas cuantas paginas e imagirar la voz del alma de quien decidió pasar sus conocimientos no solo a unos pocos para que a su vez estos hiciesen lo mismo, sino a muchos que en todo el mundo estarán leyendo a un mismo tiempo una historia que marcará su existencia para siempre…
Aunque sería maravilloso poder oir de la voz de Paulo todas y cada una de las historias que reflejan el corazón del universo…
Book-paper, language, information, imagination, fiction, non-fiction
no ha escrito entre pone. ¿Porque hacemos una fotografia, para poder olvidar o recordar el momento.?
Me acuerdo de un profesor de fotografia que tuve, muy interesado en temas polemicos un día nos pregunto:
<>.
No quiero debatirlo, pero escribir unas palabras es para recordarlas, es proteger una idea del olvido, como una imagen en el tiempo.
Aún asi, estoy pensando en Leonardo Da Vinci, me recuerda que dentro de su código tenia el miedo de que su conocimiento escrito fuera el enemigo de la memoria, quizás porque cualquiera podia leerlo y robarlo.
Por esa regla o astucia, me imagino que todo lo que realmente escrito este tendra siempre un amo, y sera quien palpe y pase sus páginas con sus dedos.
I remember the very first time I finished to read a book and soon after I decided to find again the same feeling it gave to me in another book. My very first book was “Love in time of colhera” by G.G.Marquez.
After I read it all in one day, I didn’t want to leave those pages because it was like the caracters were already part of me and i felt like part of them, in other words Marquez stimulated so much my imagination that I continuosly felt that story so…real and alive!
I still have this doubt: is my imagination so endless or is the power of the word, when well used, to create this magic ? or both? ;)
The book of life where I’m tryin’ to get my name in.
Speaking of the BIG BOOK…
I just finished a novel called The Word.
It is based on a find in Italy of a new gospel. The Gospel according to James. (Jesus brother)
Which depicts Jesus life very differently than what we are told from the other gospels.(he was lame, did not die on the cross, traveled to Rome, etc)
Has anyone read it? Mr. Coelho?
Information, inspiration, immersion!
É verdade. Existe uma canalização de força das palavras na tradição oral que as vezes impede outras.
Na semana passada estava pensando sobre isso de como fazer uma junção. Como entendo pouco, apenas rezei . Aliás quanto mais leio sobre qualquer coisa que me dirige para onde tenho que ir, menos sei e ao mesmo tempo mais sintonizada estou.Com o que? Deus me dirige.
Acho que o amigo aqui do blog Miguel Angel deve sentir isso também, pelo que li de seu comentário, porque as traduçoes podem parecer uma coisa e ser outra.
No final é isso aí e tudo vale a pena.
Quanto aos livros acho que todos são sagrados e de grande sabedoria. Particurlamente, tem livros que gosto de serem meus.
Bigs Beijos,
Mari Raphael.
Para mi un libro es algo muy poderoso que nos puede transportar muy lejos y hacer vivir muchisimas cosas. Desde mi punto de vista todo libro tiene tres historias como minimo: la que narra en sus páginas, la que se vive con ese libro (como llega hasta ti, qué pasa cuando lo lees, si está firmado por su autor en un viaje a San Sebastián :-P, a quien se lo has dejado…), y la historia de su creación, de como se ha escrito ese libro.
Yo hace muchos años que uno de mis pocos vicios es la lectura, así que para mí un libro es una ventana a un nuevo mundo que a veces me hace disfrutar, otras reir, otras soñar y algunas llorar.
Y más en general, un libro son páginas, palabras,sensaciones, el saber ocupando lugar,…
*************************************************************
For me a book is something very powerful that it’s can carry us very far and do great deal to live.
From my perspective throughout the book has at least three stories: the story that’s in its pages, the story that’s which lives on that book (how it’s arrive to you, what happens when what you read it, if it is signed by the author on a trip to San Sebastian :-P, which is what you have left …), and the story of its creation, as has been written that book.
It’s a log time that’s one of my few vices is reading, so for me a book is a window into a new world that sometimes makes me enjoy, other laugh, dream and some other cry.
And more generally, a book are pages, words, feelings, knowledge occuping a place …
Discúlpeme por utilizar el castellano, mas abajo lo traduciré al ingles con un traductor pues mi ingles es muy básico.
Hasta ahora he seguido un camino que comenzó con un libro muy sencillo “Quien ha robado mi queso”, para después sumergirme en sus libros y en la cultura de Facundo Cabral, después ley a los que usted lee y así sucesivamente hasta llegar a los clásicos griegos y a sus “maestros”.
Es cierto que hay gran sabiduría reflejada en ellos, yo creo firmemente que es así, Todo para mi redunda sobre el amor, es todo.
Todo los libros son como flechas directas a mi corazón que ilumina todos los rincones en el momento justo.
Sin embargo mis experiencias en el aspecto de la tradición oral, me han parecido pobres imitaciones de la realidad que yo vivo.
Permanecí en una comunidad neocatecumenal durante 2 años en España, de donde soy.
Todavía me falta mucha fuerza para vibrar con máxima potencia que es lo que deseo, para transmitir el máximo amor posible, que es lo que recibo de mi enseñanza escrita y parece ser mi destino y creo que el único de la humanidad.
¿A que tradición oral he de esperar?
¿O debo encontrar solo el camino?
Yo asisto a misa católica, pues es mi tradición ,me confieso Cristiano y respeto a cualquier culto.
¡Gracias por escuchar, Millones de abrazos!.
Miguel Ángel
Forgive me for using the Castilian, below what translated into English by a translator because my English is very basic.
So far I have followed a path that began with a very simple book “Who stole my cheese”, and then immersed in his books and in the culture of Facundo Cabral, after the law that you read and so on until you reach the classics Greeks and their “masters”.
It is true that there is great wisdom reflected in them, I firmly believe that it is, Everything on it for my love is everything.
All of the books are like arrows to direct my heart that illuminates every corner at the right time.
But my experiences in the aspect of oral tradition, I found poor imitations of reality that I live.
I stayed in a community Neocatechumenal 2 years in Spain, from where I am.
I am still missing a lot of strength to vibrate with maximum power that is what I wish to convey the maximum possible love, that’s what I get from my teaching and writing seems to be my destiny and I believe that the sole of humanity.
What do I have to wait oral tradition?
Or should I just find the way?
I attend a Catholic Mass, as is my tradition, I confess to any Christian worship and respect.
Thanks for listening, Millions of hugs!.
Miguel Angel
Book is not enemy of memory.
Book is sacred ! It is treasure !
Every book can become part of memory, and memory of oral teaching will loose nothing if written. Oral teachings and traditions get wings once on the paper.Of course there is possibility to remain just dead word on paper.
Without evolution which every oral teaching has, as every one is adding something personal to it books of tradition can be less rich but at least they, though limited, reach further then spoken word.
Books are part of my life since childhood, The World touched me through the words in them. And if I pass words on they are like the seed that might bring fruit if they fall onto fertile ground.
Lots of love,
Luce
What an interesting question, Paul. Without having thought much about it, I’d have to say that, for me books, are windows to other minds, to knowledge, and they are a medium that allows me to expand my mind in any direction at any time, giving me an infinite amount of learning and understanding that I can continue for as long as I live.
However, I also realize that words are inadequate. Without the human heart cloaking the message with expression and intonation and feeling and emphasis, words are just guideposts, pointing us in a direction. It’s still up to us to find the LIFE in the message. Oral messages relate a more complete story than the written word ever can, but writing at least brings more stories to more people.
As I write this, I’m thinking about informative writing, religious teaching, storytelling, ALL kinds of writing… The written word or oral tales…either way of passing along thoughts and ideas and concepts, well, it’s all good. ;)
~ Julie
I think that a book in the hands of someone who will interpret its message and use it to oppress or harm others is “evil”, and that if it spreads a message of love and kindness that it’s good. I believe that knowledge itself is power (such as the knowledge in a book) but we can twist and manipulate it to suit our own ends.
It is sad that many cultures have lost their oral traditions, and with it a lot of knowledge. Too bad it wasn’t written down!
The Fifth Mountain is what really made me aware of the power of the written word. But for me books have always meant comfort, adventure, illumination, and escape. If I don’t have at least three unread books on my night table I am disturbed. I don’t know what I would be without them.
I think about Marguerite Duras, a french writer. She was one of the famous among others in “new novel” style. She said something that disturbed me a bit. (I guess that literature disturbed myself generally speaking).As to her, once the words were written, they were dead. Oh man, maybe I did not want to kill them after this.
The Book is a memory. It is history also. How could we know about the Upanishads, the Bible, The Q’rn, William Blake, Socrate through Platon, Marc Aurèle, Racine… all myths and Legends? How could we know about your soul? How could I be here?
Certainly it is a way to recall the conquests and defeats of human beings. Also to improve in searching, and develop different shapes.
But as for all in life, the Book can be either good or bad, in its effect. It can be misinterpreted. I met sure two men, that were deeply manipulated by Nietzsche; against his will of course. Though the less I read, I can’t understand how this author could be able to cause such reactions on men. Anyway, words told and read in a precise alchemy are spell.
There are books that could be sacred though they are not recognized as so. And some, that I’d like to burn, though I know it is a good thing I could read them, to remember where I’d never like to see my neighbour and me go. Though I know I take the risk they could give bad ideas to some fools.
Always two paths, the good and the bad. Where we have to find tolerance. That way, we accept all books, without restriction. It can’t be averted.
It seems, in all ways, there’s something very difficult to reach.
Tribes of America, though transmitting an oral tradition, were fighting together when europeans arrived on their land. Now if they could be free, to travel as before, it would be very rich, for the country. Because oral traditions, if known by heart and not changed of one letter, takes the advantage, to be certainly sacred, more than books, whose translation make lose a main part of History lessons. Not speaking about effect of the Verb, that becomes then totally annulated. And about the powerful man, that could change some letters in the past. One letter is enough in those dialects.
The book is a creation I like. Though my first experience was curious. Like a river is some days, I mean, that was crazy. As if something was talking through me, sticking me there. But I’m stick anyway. :) I’m closed to end reading it, but I think it will stay in a place here. Or I’d have to change a thing, though I promised myself not to do for one.
At the end of the reading, I’d like to write another one. Because, since this book, my link with the fabulous cocking-pot of the Whole is growing. It is difficult to be just. I mean, to let go, even if we write crazy words. There’s a middle way to find, as with prayers.
Yes, I’m gabby.
Gratefully.
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