My Favorite Books

Formed by My Favorite Books

Having inhaled books all my life, having retreated into print when my feelings were in an uproar, having relied on reading to keep panic at bay, I cannot choose a single book as having been my consolation and refuge.

Nevertheless, when I thought about the first books I remember reading, books that I have continued to reread, books whose characters live in my mind because they are part of me, one series glittered with light as if it were covered in diamonds: the Peanuts comics by Charles Schulz.

I remember Uncle Paul telling my brother and me about the Great Pumpkin, a godlike figure who comes from the most sincere pumpkin patch to bring toys to good children. He or it was an acceptable and useful divinity for Jewish kids like us.

My father had a vast library of paperback books, shelved at least three layers deep. Among the spy novels, science fiction, and medical treatises, I found a 1952 edition of the first collection of Peanuts cartoons, entitled simply Peanuts. My father wrote his last name on the inside cover, and Charles Schulz autographed it on the first page. I claimed the book after his death and have it on my shelves to this day.

As I said, I identify with several of the major characters in the script. First, of course, Charlie Brown. He’s something of an underdog, getting picked on by neighborhood kids, but they like him enough to keep on playing with him, and he teases them from time to time. I felt like Charlie Brown when I was teased or mocked by my contemporaries. I identified with Charlie Brown’s eternal struggle to fly a kite that didn’t get eaten by the tree, both literally (having my own kite munched on) and metaphorically (by attempting some new sport or other endeavor, and having it immediately come crashing down in failure, injury, or both).

Schroeder is the little kid who plays classical masterpieces on his toy piano. I shared his love of music, if not his piano skills. I can’t think of Peanuts without hearing in my mind the jazzy music of Vince Guaraldi. Dad loved that kind of music, and I even tried to play his sheet music for Dave Brubeck’s jazz piece, Take Five. Dad was a very capable piano player, and he supported my musical efforts of singing and playing folk guitar.

Linus joined the strip in later years, sucking his thumb while surgically attached to his security blanket. I could really relate to him, since books were my security blanket. He could use his blanket for comfort, and also as a weapon. I could use books for comfort, and studying schoolbooks gave me good grades and skills to earn my living.

The character initially named Violet became Lucy later on. Even as Violet, she would offer to hold a football for Charlie Brown to kick but would jerk it away at the last minute and send him flying. This became a symbol to me of the unreliability of the universe. I did identify with her proud self-identification as a “fussbudget.” When she set herself up as a psychiatrist offering brusque advice for 5 cents, I felt tenderly possessive of my mental blocks; I would never entrust any of them to her.

Getting back to Linus, books and music have been my lifelong security blankets, and I thank Charles Schulz for showing me how they could support me on my way through life.