The mystery of reading

My daughter Rachel recently recounted this anecdote about her son Henry. He’s crazy about books, has always loved being read to, always asks for more at bedtime, enjoys going to the library and picking out new books every week.

         But, at 5 ½ years and just beginning kindergarten, Henry is not reading on his own yet.

         Or so we thought.

         Last week, he pulled out a copy of Walker Percy’s The Moviegoer from their living room bookshelf. He started walking around the house with the book open, to all intents “reading” it. The first night, he took the book to bed, curled up with it, still “reading.”

         The next night, Rachel peeked in his room to make sure he was asleep—there he was, under his blanket with his flashlight "reading" The Moviegoer again.

         Who can explain this attraction? The Moviegoer is not exactly what you’d choose for a first book to read independently! Certainly, it lacks the rhyming and easy words of, say, The Cat in the Hat. If Henry is pretending to read, why this book? Was it just a random choice? The jacket cover is not especially enticing, so that’s not likely the appeal.

         Rachel and I want to ask him about his reading adventure—in a way. In another way, we like having this mysterious story unfold as it will...

         But we’ll really begin to wonder if he starts on Ulysses next!