Just re-read Ender’s Game. I needed an escape from all the massive change, loss, chaos that is happening in my world. And I had forgotten just how deeply this book affects me.
Why is a bit of a mystery to me. Is it because I’m a parent? I’ve only ever read it as a parent and it’s difficult to read about what happens to this little boy without cringing and feeling sad at what he has to lose in order to become what is needed. But I don’t think it’s as a parent that I cheer him on as he overcomes… I wonder if it isn’t that odd-man out kid that I used to be? Or maybe it’s the fact that he does win and yet he still understands the cost in the end.
It’s really hard to come up with words to describe why I love this book so much. So given that I can’t adequately sum it up I will veer off slightly from any attempt to plug my thoughts into neat words and say this: I actually avoided reading the subsequent Ender books or Card’s works because I love this book so much.
I didn’t want to be disappointed. I’m finally overcoming that nervousness. I’ll hunt down Speaker for the Dead next, fully understanding that it is completely different. I’m ready now. It took the second reading, maybe. Or maybe it took me being a little more adventurous? Hmm… I’ll have to ponder that one for a bit.
I’ve seen pictures of the baby. I wish I could be there – snuggling him and listening to the birth story. I wish I could be with my family in Canada. It’s hard to be so far away. That seems to be modern life, though. Lots of distance and lots of email. With pictures.
Time for bed. I’m going to attempt to forget about the work chaos. Here’s hoping.