An lirsh novelist colm Toibin once recounted a story about observing a Cantonese man sitting on a Kowloon footpath reading a book .
The mans face was stern with concentration.,and his finger tracing the. Line read . At times the man's expression would be disturbed in frustration at his progress. Finally the reader lookt up at the sky while his face was beaming .it dose not matter whether it was because of a sudden joy with the act of reading or revelation from what was written or delight at how the story resolved.
the point is that he was in possession of something deliciously private -a connection between him and the writer between the real world described upon the pages . There is a frequently asked questions : what would the word be like without books ??
the very question was absarvb and depression. It is always said that the latest technology signals the demise of the books decades ago it was thought that the radio would replace books. This far has persisted through out with the invention of television and internet. But scenes like that OK Cantonese man reading the book negate the notion that modern advance pose a threat to reading .books and makes us deslove into the completies of life .literature is the story of humans. It is the record of who we are where we come from and where we are going .books maks us travel at large .during our journey ,we are connected with humanlity We identify oursloves with the characters we meet and learn whether we love loathe fear or flatter. They helpus comepRehund our felts and aspirations. They tell us who could we become if we are not careful . Reading periodes the deepest connection to the morals that makes us human ,and part of a larger society .
Next part tomorrow morning