I have been religiously writing in diaries since I was about eight. It’s gotten to the point now of having to store at least six full notebooks that I have accumulated over the years, and never trusting electronic devices with such delicate material. Sometimes, when I’m dragging my suitcase onto the train home from uni at Manchester Piccadilly, I wonder if they’re worth the space they take up.
Recently, however, I left my diary in a suitcase at a friend’s accidentally while moving house and only got it back after a month. Being apart from it for so long and not having anywhere to write down my feelings every night like clockwork made me realise that I rely on it to process everything, from the events of my days to my innermost emotions. Getting my diary back felt like being reunited with an essential piece of my operating system.
I think reading has a similar power for self-discovery and helping us to examine the outside world. Literature, and words in particular, both the ones we read and the ones we write, can have profound creative and thought-provoking value. As Seamus Heaney wrote in his poem Digging, “the squat pen rests./I’ll dig with it”. Digging with words can unearth an entire range of introspection. In fact, research has found that reading fiction increases self-esteem and the reader’s sense of purpose, as well as widening people’s perspectives of others.
I sent my dad this poem when I read it because it reminded me of him, and funnily enough, he responded by saying that the poem had always reminded him of his father, highlighting to me the sentimental and connecting power of literature. Much like listening to music, reading allows us to access parts of ourselves that we can’t necessarily get to on our own. A heart-wrenching film or a Phoebe Bridgers song can take you from straight-faced to feeling every emotion you didn’t cry about in the last month all coming out at once. Reading, if we give it a chance, can do the same thing.
I asked myself and people in my life who have lived and worked in a range of places and contexts, if they had ever read something that made them realise something about themselves, or helped them come to terms with a certain emotion. This is their (and my) list of recommendations.
Promising Young Women by Caroline O’Donoghue
“It might sound dramatic but certain extracts of this book made me have a physical reaction. I had to stop reading for a second when she got a promotion because of the brilliantly written discomfort of the sexual, power, and gender dynamics taking place, and it reached a part of me as a woman that not much media taps into in such a visceral way.”
White Teeth by Zadie Smith
“It captured something of my experience growing up, the complexities and simultaneous beauty of living in a diverse context and navigating your identity as a teenager in that space. The areas described […] reminded me of my own experiences of chaotic London. I found many parts of Smith’s depiction of this context illuminating and thought-provoking, as well as at times affirming of my own experience navigating this.”
The Grass is Singing by Doris Lessing
“A book I read some time ago. The picture and story capture something of the harshness yet vibrancy and beauty of the southern African landscape […] the words of the title make me feel emotional as they remind me of the place we lived and worked but also the people I met and interacted with.”
Good Material by Dolly Alderton
“I started crying on a plane reading a bit of dialogue from one best friend to another about being independent and alone even when she isn’t, and I had no idea why it made me cry – but it was really cathartic and clearly something I needed to get out.”
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
“I read it when I was 11 and it was my first exposure to the concept of censorship. It’s an emotionally gripping book, has a young female character I identified with, and unfortunately seems to get more relevant with age.”
The Humans by Matt Haig
“It made me want to study anthropology, and what it means to be a human. It made me realise that there is beauty in every level of life and all decisions and […] even the worst day of your life is special in some ways.”
Gone With The Wind by Margaret Mitchell
“From her presentation of the duality of woman, to her exploration of the profound brokenness of humanity in war, from her underlying acceptance of slavery to her rich tapestry of romance […] it has been a staple in my favourites ever since reading it at 15. But it was the rise and fall, and rise and fall again, of Scarlett O’Hara throughout the novel that affected me most.”
