Returning to a book you’ve read many times can feel like drinks with an old friend. There’s a welcome familiarity - but also sometimes a slight suspicion that time has changed you both, and thus the relationship. But books don’t change, people do. And that’s what makes the act of rereading so rich and transformative.

The beauty of rereading lies in the idea that our bond with the work is based on our present mental register. It’s true, the older I get, the more I feel time has wings. But with reading, it’s all about the present. It’s about the now and what one contributes to the now, because reading is a give and take between author and reader. Each has to pull their own weight.

There are three books I reread annually .The first, which I take to reading every spring is Emest Hemningway’s A Moveable Feast. Published in 1964, it’s his classic memoir of 1920s Paris. The language is almost intoxicating (令人陶醉的)，an aging writer looking back on an ambitious yet simpler time. Another is Annie Dillard’s Holy the Firm, her poetic 1975 ramble (随笔) about everything and nothing. The third book is Julio Cortazar’s Save Twilight: Selected Poems, because poetry. And because Cortazar.

While I tend to buy a lot of books, these three were given to me as gifs, which might add to the meaning I attach to them. But I imagine that, while money is indeed wonderful and necessary, rereading an author’s work is the highest currency a reader can pay them. The best books are the ones that open further as time passes. But remember, it’s you that has to grow and read and reread in order to better understand your friends.

A man accused of failing to return more than 700 children’s books to five different libraries in the county was released from prison after a book publisher agreed to post his bond (保释金) of $1,000. The publisher said, “There’s a story here. This is a man who loves books. He just can’t let go of them. He hasn’t stolen a single book. So what’s the crime? We think that Mr Barush has a story to tell. We plan to publish his story.”

When asked why he didn’t return the books, Mr Barush said, “Well, how could I? They became family to me. I was afraid to return them, because I knew that kids or dogs would get hold of these books and chew them up, throw them around, tear the pages, spill soda on them, get jam and jelly on them, and drown them in the toilet.”

He continued, “Books are people, too! They talk to you, they take care of you, and they enrich you with wisdom, humor and love. A book is a guest in my home. How could I kick it out? I repaired torn pages. I dusted them with a soft clean cloth. I turned their pages so they could breathe and get some fresh air.”

“Every week I reorganized them on their shelves so they could meet new friends. My books were HAPPY books. You could tell just by looking at them. Now they’re all back in the library, on the lower shelves, on the floors, at the mercy of all those runny-nosed kids. I can hear them calling me! I need to rescue them. Excuse me. I have to go now.”