Rereading is quite different from reading, an experiment in the different repeat. The first frisson of the original encounter is missing, but I find that’s more than made up for a) by not having to concentrate on remembering exactly who everybody is and b) understanding it a lot better, whether it’s noticing important details or just bringing a new perspective. Perhaps there’s a slight element of guilt since every time I read a book twice then I haven’t read somebody else’s book once, but I get over my remorse pretty quickly.
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