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Brian Jacques
14 years ago
I remember, way back when I was 12,13,14, around then life was not so good. Everything that could fall apart had fallen apart, and even some things that couldn't had.
I remember those days as nothing but a jumble of monotony, and fear, and hopelessness. But I did have one little escape route away from it all, and it was reading. Every weekend I'd wake up early and walk 2 hours to the nearest public library, and trudge home at 10 PM to get home by midnight, and more often than not walk all the way back there the day after too.
What I did there all day is read - eventually all the librarians knew me by name. I got my picture (along with my brother) put up on a small billboard advertising the library, wish I had kept a photo of that! I'd mostly hang out in the young adult section, but on occasion I'd wander over to science fiction. On one of these jaunts I saw a book cover with ferrets and badgers walking around holding spears and swords - I was intrigued and took it back to a reading cubicle with me.
It was one of the first times I remembered I didn't finish a book quickly. I savoured every page, read sentences again and again. I flipped back and forth to link sections together in my mind, and I got to know the characters. The book was Salamandastron, and I'll never forget how that book made me feel.
The book to me was kind of like looking at faraway places in photos for the first time. It opened up my little world and made me want more out of life. It made me happy and gave me hope.
After that I went back to the library almost every day. I'd get out of school and run there, scouring the library for more books in the series. Each one I'd read, bit by bit, and when I finished I'd find the book least recent in my memory and read it again. And every time I re-read a book I'd find something new I missed; a detail or a name to help cement the story in my imagination.
I began saving, scrounging, begging. I'd collect cans and drop them off at the local Safeway for the pocket change, and find and return shopping carts for the $.25 they sometimes held. After a couple months of this I'd collected enough money to buy Redwall for myself at a local bookstore. After that I kept saving, penny by painful penny, and after about a year I had the entire set (It was only seven books at the time).
I remember hiding them in the corner behind the leg of my bed, and later between the mattress and my bedsprings, which gouged the covers up. I read and re-read those books until the edges of the pages turned black and the corners became dog-eared and torn. Redwall was the only thing I took with me when I left to live in foster homes, and I remember later on, starving and alone, I would just lie in bed and just read the series for hours to pass the time. Those books survived being burned, soaked in water, having pages torn out - and I survived too.
The books changed my life in other ways too - while I don't want to go into too much detail, later in life I did some regretful things, and what stopped me was the thought one day "Would Redwall approve of what I was doing?" Silly I know, but it worked for me. After that I put my efforts into hard work, going to school, the whole deal.
The author of the series, Brian Jacques died today - he will be mourned. I hope he is out there, past the gates of Dark Forest.
I remember those days as nothing but a jumble of monotony, and fear, and hopelessness. But I did have one little escape route away from it all, and it was reading. Every weekend I'd wake up early and walk 2 hours to the nearest public library, and trudge home at 10 PM to get home by midnight, and more often than not walk all the way back there the day after too.
What I did there all day is read - eventually all the librarians knew me by name. I got my picture (along with my brother) put up on a small billboard advertising the library, wish I had kept a photo of that! I'd mostly hang out in the young adult section, but on occasion I'd wander over to science fiction. On one of these jaunts I saw a book cover with ferrets and badgers walking around holding spears and swords - I was intrigued and took it back to a reading cubicle with me.
It was one of the first times I remembered I didn't finish a book quickly. I savoured every page, read sentences again and again. I flipped back and forth to link sections together in my mind, and I got to know the characters. The book was Salamandastron, and I'll never forget how that book made me feel.
The book to me was kind of like looking at faraway places in photos for the first time. It opened up my little world and made me want more out of life. It made me happy and gave me hope.
After that I went back to the library almost every day. I'd get out of school and run there, scouring the library for more books in the series. Each one I'd read, bit by bit, and when I finished I'd find the book least recent in my memory and read it again. And every time I re-read a book I'd find something new I missed; a detail or a name to help cement the story in my imagination.
I began saving, scrounging, begging. I'd collect cans and drop them off at the local Safeway for the pocket change, and find and return shopping carts for the $.25 they sometimes held. After a couple months of this I'd collected enough money to buy Redwall for myself at a local bookstore. After that I kept saving, penny by painful penny, and after about a year I had the entire set (It was only seven books at the time).
I remember hiding them in the corner behind the leg of my bed, and later between the mattress and my bedsprings, which gouged the covers up. I read and re-read those books until the edges of the pages turned black and the corners became dog-eared and torn. Redwall was the only thing I took with me when I left to live in foster homes, and I remember later on, starving and alone, I would just lie in bed and just read the series for hours to pass the time. Those books survived being burned, soaked in water, having pages torn out - and I survived too.
The books changed my life in other ways too - while I don't want to go into too much detail, later in life I did some regretful things, and what stopped me was the thought one day "Would Redwall approve of what I was doing?" Silly I know, but it worked for me. After that I put my efforts into hard work, going to school, the whole deal.
The author of the series, Brian Jacques died today - he will be mourned. I hope he is out there, past the gates of Dark Forest.
I remember the end of Martin the Warrior totally wrecking me - I had read Mossflower before actually but it was the first time I ever read a story where everything didn't wrap up perfectly by the end like a sitcom. I kept reading the last couple chapters wondering if I missed something that would make everything right.
I haven't read a few of his last books. I don't think I can bring myself to do it - feels like there's still some adventure ahead of me if I haven't finished the series. I really hope they don't take his name and slap it on some "unfinished material" or "written by his son" crap, that would piss me off.