There are those who come to books naturally very early in their lives. These people move from their board books and picture fiction to junior fiction and young adult with relative ease and by age 8 they are already devouring Agatha Christie and J K Rowling (and understanding them too!). These are the bookworms by birth.
And then there are those of us who wander our paths and come to books later in life. We do not start off with our nose buried in books when young but somewhere there is a little trickle that grows into a rivulet that then becomes a stream which then leads on to a roaring waterfall the size of Niagara. There is no telling when this can happen to us. Sometimes in our teens, for others in their youth and middle-age and so on.
The bookworm virus is an infliction that has a varying incubation period until all symptoms manifest and one is declared a bookworm without hope of treatment or cure. It can be one year or several decades. Take me for example, as a child and a young teen, I was baffled by the books my erudite family thrust in my hands. My reading muscle lay hidden behind layers of fat and I could hardly make sense of what I was scanning. Naturally enough my preference was not for books despite being in a house that was literally filled with books to the thousands.
And then something happened. I discovered JRR Tolkien along with the rest of the world. I read the books when I heard they were making movies and for the first time in my life I actually “got a book”. I would like to say that after that there was no looking back and I immediately moved on to devouring 50+ books a year. I didn’t. That was a more gradual process which took a better part of two decades. In the end though, I made it.
In Alan Bennett’s fictional parallel universe, the person who sets off on this journey to bookwormdom is actually Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. It’s not that she has never read before, but “liking books was something she left to other people. It was a hobby and it was in the nature of her job that she didn’t have hobbies.” Utterly impartial to a fault, HM would not have wanted to prefer one book over another. A stickler to duty, “Her job was to take an interest. Not to be interested herself.” She has come to books late in life.
The book opens with the Queen discovering a mobile library on the palace grounds by accident. One thing leads to another and she discovers that she actually quite likes reading. Soon she is reading voraciously and without discrimination. She even discovers the art of waving from her car and reading a book at the same time.
Of course not everybody likes this. When asked to “stay focused” by her private advisor, she retorts “I suppose you mean one should keep one’s eyes on the ball. Well, I’ve had my eye on the ball for more than fifty years so I think these days one is allowed the occasional glance to the boundary.” And a majority of the commoners who get an audience with Her Highness during her engagements, on being asked about books, feel like “the monarch had somehow bowled them a googly.” (How can you not love the cricket metaphors?)
I won’t give many more spoilers as book, at a mere 124 pages, is a delightfully quick read. I managed to finish it in one day during my commute to and from work.
What is most enjoyable and believable about the book is the process wherein the monarch turns to books. Her journey from one book to another, the reaction of her courtiers and council- first indulgence, then annoyance and later active opposition- may be something that all bookworms around the world have experienced personally (especially if you haven’t been a bookworm from birth but come to it later in life). Even the stage where the Queen begins to care slightly less about her appearance is completely relatable. When you have read that much and know that there is so much more to it, you start caring a little less about your dress.
And also the process of how you develop your reading muscle. Once you’ve read voraciously, books that previously didn’t make sense to you don’t seem like strangers anymore.
All in all, ‘The Uncommon Reader’ was a fantastic and fulfilling read and I have to thank “a friend” for this recommendation. I came across the book (written by Hazel Wood) in an essay in Issue 60 of the literary magazine ‘Slightly Foxed‘. In their own words, “Slightly Foxed is more than just a literary magazine, it’s more like a well-read friend.” This is so true. Also the staff at the magazine specialise in recommendations that are not so mainstream. They focus on well-written books that for some reason have been forgotten in the annals of literary history. What better friend can a bookworm hope to have?
Sukanya Ramanujan 
I am glad you got that Slightly foxed to add to your list of books 😀!
We can all do with good recommendations! Thanks for the tip!!!