When I was young and found books I loved, I wanted to revisit them repeatedly. I cherished the experience of re-entering a familiar world; whether I was longing to be whisked away to sunnier climates, solve mysteries with my favorite characters, or visit fantastical worlds full of mythical creatures, I could merely scan my bookshelf for the right ticket to get there.
As I’ve grown older any rereading I do now is usually out of necessity: I’ve either forgotten how the book ends or I’ve read everything else in my house and need a reading fix fast. Occasionally, I will re-read for comfort, but it’s rarer than it once was.
The pandemic changed that for me. I found myself reading in a way that was more reminiscent of my childhood. In a season of uncertainty, I needed a sense of constancy, something reliable that I could visit for a little while without any new or upsetting changes. Since bookstores and libraries remained closed or had limited access, I decided to turn to my bookshelves and reread some of the volumes there that I hadn’t yet revisited.
The following are the pandemic rereads (in no particular order) that gave me some escape when I needed it most.
I’ve had this trilogy on my shelves for ages and always meant to re-read it, but never did because of all the new books I was desperate to get to. The pandemic was a perfect time to revisit it, and I found I enjoyed it just as much as I did a decade ago. The rather unlikable characters still have enough humanness within them to redeem their choices (mostly), imagining the magic reminded me of being thrust into the thrill of new fantasy worlds in my childhood, and the Narnia parody is both irreverent and hilarious.
Nielsen is a Canadian YA author who has that rare gift of writing for teen audiences and hitting all the right notes. I’m always excited to revisit one of Nielsen’s books because I know I’m in for a fun read with stellar writing and so much heart. Full of awkward teen moments, the excitement and vulnerability of first love, and coming-of-age inspiration, Nielsen will make you laugh and cry in the same breath and leave you rooting for characters you’ll wish you’d had as friends during your tumultuous teen years.
I’ve been known to utter the word “swoon” upon hearing Gaiman’s name. I am proud to admit that I haven’t grown out of doing that, nor have I grown out of rereading his books. I love Gaiman’s fairy tales. He creates believable worlds that are reminiscent of classic tales but adds just enough quirkiness and twisty plotting to keep you intrigued. In my mind, he creates the perfect fairy tale story scape to lose yourself in while rooting for the unlikely hero.
I was first introduced to Canadian writer Miriam Toews by my Mennonite mother-in-law who grew up in the same staunch Mennonite town as Toews did. Toews’ novels remind me of my family roots, and she keeps me coming back with her stories of quirky families with depth, women coming together to support each other, and her insights into religion and how it can both hurt and heal.
I enjoy sinking into a thick, multilayered literary tome, especially when I have the time to pay it proper attention. 2020 gave me plenty of time to reread this novel that I’d read only once upon its publication in 2010. Unlike the other books on this list, I did not enjoy this novel the second time around. I remember first loving it for its layers, embedded narrative, unreliable narrator, and unresolved ending. I appreciated all these aspects upon rereading; yet, reading it the second time around felt more tedious: I had much less sympathy for the antagonists and quickly grew annoyed with the predictably poor treatment of women throughout the novel’s timeline.
Kostova is a brilliant writer and has created a fascinating tale about art, obsession, and mental health, but it just wasn’t the right read for me this time around. It will stay on my shelves and perhaps I will give it another read in a decade or so and find myself with a new perspective the third time around.
The last book on this list, but one that’s resonated with me long after I finished each reading of it. In Five Wives Thomas weaves a fictional tale around a historical event. In 1956, several Evangelical missionary families travel to Ecuador to convert the Waorani, a tribe that has had no contact with the outside world. After weeks of sending gifts by plane to the Waorani people, five of the missionary men enter Waorani land and are killed, leaving their wives and children to make sense of the events. Thomas takes this true story and retells it without preaching or judging, but with deep respect for each of her characters, regardless of the roles, they had to play in the events that occurred.
I read Five Wives upon its publication in 2019. In March of 2020, I reached for it again, and I just recently finished a third reread. This story is beautifully written, the characters so artfully imagined, and the themes of colonialism in the name of faith so relevant. I know this book will have a long history of rereading in my life.
Now that libraries and bookstores are reopened, I’ve been exploring new stories and authors again, but my pandemic rereads will retain a special status on my shelves for being constant companions during a time of very little certainty. I suspect that next time it won’t take a pandemic to get me to get back to them!