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In His Own Write
By John Lennon
Two of the first books that made me a reader were In His Own Write and A Spaniard in the Works by John Lennon. This was when I was about ten. I already perceived that the Beatles were great humorists and word benders. I even ascribed inventiveness mistakenly to their lexicon, for instance I heard in “Can’t Buy Me Love”: I don’t care to munch for money. Which led me, every time I heard it, to ponder ‘munch’ as long-lost Anglo-Saxon slang for grovel or toil in a crummy job.
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A Spaniard in the Works
By John Lennon
In the jesting and silliness, in the ridiculous characters and names, was this great spirit of rebellion:
Araminta Ditch was always larfing. She woof larf at these, larf at thas. Always larfing she was. Many body people woof look atat her saying, ‘Why does that Araminta Ditch keeplarfing?’ They could never understamp why she was ever larfing about the place. ‘I hope she’s not at all larfing at me,’ some peokle would say, ‘I certainly hope that Araminta Ditch is not larfing at me.’
The scope of John’s newfangled vocabulary was practically Shakespearean!
There were serious books important to me too. Somerset Maugham’s Of Human Bondage, in 9th grade, made me feel like a serious reader. I understood that a central wound (in this case Philip’s clubfoot) motivated the reading experience I was most after.
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About this series
The Book That Made Me a Reader
In this series, authors talk about the first book that turned them into a reader.