April 17

An essay on The New York Times last month dealt with what the author called literary dealbreakers – what would make you dismiss a potential romantic partner on account of the books he or she appreciates.

I am with the lot of people who commented on the same author’s blog that judging a person by what he or she does (or does not, for that matter), read is, to a large extent, foolish. Not to mention snobbish for those who claim to be of highbrow literary tastes.

That being said, I probably won’t have lasting attraction to someone who will tell me that he doesn’t read anything without pictures on it. More so if he doesn’t read, period. First, I say probably because I’m talking theoretically here. But I can’t imagine having someone who’ll get bored by me sticking around the bookstores at the mall or who wouldn’t be excited by the idea of discussing new literary finds and engaging authors over a cup of coffee or tea. Let us widen our imaginations for a while and consider, if, by some stroke of luck, I’ll get to publish a book in the future. I imagine it would a be much more rewarding experience to share it with someone who understands, and have a deep appreciation for, the beauty and power of the written word. Intellectual snobbery? I’m calling it a relative measure of compatibility.


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