The Reader, The Read-to

I love to read.

I also love being read to.

Many of the books I “read” are actually read to me by professionals. Rarely am I without my ipod and the thousands of unabridged audio books it and Audible.com give me access to.

I realize most people view the ipod as a portable music and movie device, but it’s as a book that it really excels. Thanks to Apple and Audible I’m able to read hundreds more books each year than I would otherwise—listening to them while I drive, work, workout, lie in bed sleeplessly. Confucius said there are three ways to learn wisdom—reflection, which is noblest; imitation, which is easiest; and experience, which is bitterest—but if he’d have lived today, I’m pretty sure he’d have added a fourth, audio books on the ipod, which is coolest.

My most recent reading—or rather, being read to—experience was Bernhard Schlink’s “The Reader,” and what a moving experience it was.

It’s a resonate story—made no less so because I could see where it was headed from the very beginning (one of the many hazzards of being a professional storyteller)—read with saturnine appropriateness by Campbell Scott.

I chose to read “The Reader” at this time because I plan to see the adaptation starring the remarkable, beautiful, talented Kate Winslet later this month when it’s released, and I wanted to read the book before I saw the film. But as was the case with “Brokeback Mountain,” I was so satisfied by the book, I no longer have a strong desire to see the movie (I’ve read “Brokeback Mountain several times and have yet to see the adaptation)—except this time, with respect to Heath and Jake, I’ll see “The Reader” in order to see Kate, whose role is reported to have saved Mirage Enterprises a lot of money on wardrobe.

The story of “The Reader” is a simple one, a love story of sorts filled with eroticism, secrets, horror, and compassion—all of which unfold against the haunted landscape of postwar Germany.

When he falls ill on his way home from school, fifteen-year-old Michael Berg is rescued by Hanna, a woman twice his age. In time she becomes his lover—then she inexplicably disappears. When Michael next sees her, he is a young law student, and she is on trial for a hideous crime. As he watches her refuse to defend her innocence, Michael gradually realizes that Hanna may be guarding a secret she considers even more shameful than murder.

Because “The Reader” is an intimate story told in the first person by a male protagonist, I identified with Michael, even, at moments, became him, but because I was being read to, I also became Hanna. I had the experience of simultaneously being the reader and the read to, which was paradoxical, powerful, profound.

“The Reader” has my highest recommendation. Read it—or have it read to you—as soon as you can. Its elegance, resonance, profundity will stay with you long after the reader—you or Campbell Scot—reads the final work.