The inquisitive one was sitting with a group of friends who had gathered to read books together. Some of the friends were old, some were new, some were happy, and some were blue. And one of them was starting to get red in the face. This was a new friend, who had forgotten to bring a book with her.

“Oh no,” she said. “This is embarrassing. Reading silently amidst friends is not going to be very fun without a book.”

“That’s okay, because I brought two books with me,” said the inquisitive one. “I was going to read this red one. Do you want to borrow this blue one?”

“Oh, yes, thank you!” said the new friend.

Soon after that, the group of friends read silently together. When they had stopped reading, the inquisitive one spoke up:

“I’m really enjoying this red book! How do you like that blue book?”

“Oh, this blue book is so good!” exclaimed the new friend. “In fact, this blue book is amazing. I am enjoying it so much. I hate to give it back to you!”

“You can borrow it!” said the inquisitive one. “Just come read with us again and return it to me. I received it as a birthday present and am very excited to read it, as I have never read that one before; but you can read it first.”

“Oh, thank you. You are so kind!” said the new friend.

And when the group of friends parted, the new friend took the blue book with her.

Many months passed, during which the inquisitive one saw no sign or trace of the new friend or the blue book. The inquisitive one thought often of that blue book. It was a trade paperback. Its cover was pristine and the color of the deep sea. Its pages lay flat and crisply together. It was a twentieth-century masterpiece known for its beautiful language and harrowing subject matter. It seemed like the type of book one could fall into and have trouble escaping from.

Alternate Ending #1

The new friend carried the blue book with her everywhere she went. She read a few pages every day. She read in the pool as the grandkids splashed beside her, and she read while walking through a morning mist that turned to drizzle. She read while drinking coffee and accidentally spilling it, and she read while eating those deliciously crumbly butter cookies, the kind that you should never eat in bed unless it’s laundry day and you have not yet done the sheets. She read while riding a Ferris wheel with the grandkids, and she accidentally dropped it while at the highest point. (She had to ask the attendants to retrieve it from the thorny bushes where it had fallen.) She read in the kitchen as her boyfriend cut up a pomegranate and then chopped up some beets, using a macho knife with maximum flourishes and pizza-dough-like tosses for effect. She folded down many of the pages, and she took copious notes in the margins. She tore out the least interesting pages, to teach the grandkids how to make origami cranes.

And finally, after months of reading, she finished the book!

Sometime after that, the new friend showed up at a meeting of the group of friends and handed the blue book to the inquisitive one.

“It was really good,” she said. “Thank you!”

The inquisitive one stared at the book in disbelief.

The inquisitive one opened the mouth, but nothing came out.

“But listen,” said the friend, “I actually ended up with two of these. Would you like this one instead?” And she slid a brand new copy of the book from her purse.

“Oh, haha, sure!” said the inquisitive one, in joy and relief.

And they had a long talk about the grandkids over two glasses of very red wine.

Alternate Ending #2

Unbeknownst to the inquisitive one and the new friend, the spine of the blue book was infested with microscopic worms. As the new friend was reading the book, some of the microscopic worms inched their way up her arms and into her ears. They began feeding on the new friend’s brain cells. The new friend soon lost the memory of ever having gone to the reading group.

“Where did I get this book?” she wondered, while pouring boiling water into the flowerpot instead of her mug.

“What happened at the beginning of this book?” she wondered later on, while reading the book on a Metro train that was quickly moving farther away from her intended destination.

“What is a book?” she wondered even later on, while wandering through a bookstore, looking for the dairy section.

The new friend took very good care of the blue book, but sadly never finished it.

Alternate Ending #3

The new friend finished the blue book within 24 hours. It was that good! Indeed, it was such a powerful novel that it changed the new friend’s life forever. The new friend realized, through the reading of the book, that major life changes must be made, and must be made right now. The new friend had several epiphanies, all prompted by the blue book, within those 24 hours, one of which was that she was living in the wrong country and engaging in the wrong activities. So she packed up the suitcases, grandkids, and boyfriend, and moved to Tonga in the South Pacific. Once there, she enrolled in college courses in real estate law, and signed up for lessons in snowboarding.

The new friend was so engrossed in all of this life upheaval that she was unable to make it back to the reading group in the Washington, D.C., area. Instead, she put a note in a bottle thanking the inquisitive one for introducing her to such a wonderful and powerful and truly life-changing book. She set the bottle off to sea, confident that it would have its own special adventures, too.

Alternate Ending #4

Many months after attending the reading group, the new friend showed up at the reading group again.

“Hi, do you remember me? Here’s your book back,” said the new friend to the inquisitive one. The inquisitive one took the gently used and obviously well-taken-care-of book from her hands, delighted to see that beautiful blue cover again.

“Hi, thanks so much!” said the inquisitive one.

“Sorry I haven’t come to the reading group until now. I finished it long ago, but I got so busy with the grandkids and everything else. I have been meaning to come and return the book to you.”

“It’s okay, no worries! Was it a good book?”

“It started out great! But the ending was kind of blah. Nothing really happened. It just seemed like ordinary life, nothing very exciting or interesting, you know?”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” said the inquisitive one.

“It made me wonder, couldn’t the author have written something more entertaining? Why am I reading this? This is putting me to sleep, and it’s not even teaching me anything, either.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” said the inquisitive one.

And then they started talking about the new friend’s grandkids.

Their personalities didn’t mesh, and the conversation was somewhat awkward.

The inquisitive one, after that terrible ordeal in London, was in possession of a passport, but no money with which to return home to America. And so the inquisitive one began wandering along the River Thames, looking for a ship to stow away in.

The inquisitive one spent many hours and days hanging around places where there were ships and boats. The inquisitive one struck up many friendly conversations with people who seemed like seamen and seawomen, trying to tease out any information that might help.

One day, the inquisitive one met a rich, middle-aged couple who, bored with corporate life, had decided to take some time off work and have an adventure. They were planning to sail a small sailboat across the Atlantic Ocean! The inquisitive one complimented them on their bravery and sense of adventure and expressed great interest in learning more about their proposed travels. And so they became friends, particularly since the couple appreciated the inquisitive one’s sense of humor.

One day, the couple invited the inquisitive one to join them on the sail across the Atlantic. “We’ll buy all the food you need for the trip, if you help us manage the sails and do other tasks that need to be done.”

“I would be honored to join you on your adventure,” said the inquisitive one.

“Plus, the two of us know each other well and are tired of each other’s jokes. So we will be happily entertained if you will keep joking around during the voyage.”

“I can do that. I’m like a court jester!” said the inquisitive one, doing a little jig.

“Plus, if things go terribly wrong, and we have to resort to cannibalism, you will come in handy.”

“I used to suck my thumb when I was a kid. That’s some tasty stuff!” said the inquisitive one, pretending to gnaw on a thumb, and hoping they found this joke funny, while reflecting that it was not actually funny in the least.

Luckily, they thought this was hysterical. And so the three of them embarked on their adventure. The inquisitive one learned how to sail a sailboat and endured many hard times on that boat—too many to recount here. There never came a time when they needed to resort to cannibalism; and one day they landed at Plymouth Rock.

The inquisitive one kissed the dry ground with excitement and patriotism! No one bothered to check the passport, for some reason, there at Plymouth Rock. (This was probably a good thing, since it had gotten repeatedly wet and salty and was no longer very readable.) And so the inquisitive one hitchhiked back to the beloved Washington, D.C.

Soon after returning home, the inquisitive one saw a bunch of friends at a party. The friends all crowded around the inquisitive one, asking about the trip to Europe and begging to see photos.

“I didn’t take any good photos, sorry!” said the inquisitive one. “But I promise you, it was an adventure! I met some interesting people, ate tea and crumpets, saw some sights, and took sailing lessons on the River Thames!”

“Cool!” said the friends. “And by the way, your email was hacked.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that!” said the inquisitive one. And the partyers moved on to other topics.

Later, the inquisitive one met up with a few—just a very few—very close friends. These were discreet, trustworthy people with enormous hearts. To these friends, the inquisitive one told the whole story: the theft of the money and passport, the drug dealers, the political agitators, the prince, the U.S. Embassy, the sailing couple, and everything else. And the friends were compassionate and kind and always still discreet and trustworthy.

And none of the friends, even once, during that whole evening, suggested eating any other of them.

Check out my new article on the Silent Book Club blog. It’s called Where Have You Been All My Life?

Have you ever experienced a stunning moment when you felt struck by the simplicity of an idea, and instantly sure of your next move? I did, two years ago. Read all about it here!

In the meantime, as you’re reading that article, and as you and I wait for our next huge thunderbolt of a realization or discovery or unique happenstance . . . I’ll be in the air over the Atlantic Ocean! More on that next time. Meanwhile, keep on reading, folks. You never know what you might find when you open a cover and venture into strings of words. . . .

Honoré de Balzac’s novel Eugénie Grandet seems to imply that, contrary to popular belief, money can buy happiness!

One of the main characters in the novel, Monsieur Grandet, glows with happiness upon learning of the multiplication of his funds, and when beholding his piles of gold. He even, upon receiving especially good news concerning his accounts, literally sings and dances.

But the novel also implies that an increase in money does not cause an increase in happiness for everyone, just for those rare people who are true misers. Monsieur Grandet’s wife and daughter do not experience greater happiness from the acquisition of money. In fact, as the reader is surprised to learn, they don’t even know how much they are financially worth, or that their fortune dwarfs the net worth of many of their neighbors combined!

The tragedy of this scenario is that Eugénie and her mother, not comprehending that they are multimillionaires, also do not comprehend the true nature of their “friendships.” Money-hungry men and their money-hungry relatives come regularly to the Grandet house to court Eugénie. Poor Madame and Mademoiselle Grandet think that these people like them for themselves, not for their money.

At the point that the reader learns of this wretched situation, Balzac tosses in the following aphorism:

“How horrible is man’s condition! He does not own one happiness whose source does not lie in ignorance of some kind.”

It’s a Balzacian aphorism; but is it true? I would like to debate this question with you. I would argue that Monsieur Grandet’s joy in acquiring money would be significantly lower if he were not so ignorant about its detrimental effects on his family, as well as on himself. Further, his wife and daughter would surely have been horrified to learn that the people praising them did not genuinely like them.

On the other hand, ignorance can lead to misery over the long term, as is evident by witnessing these characters’ deteriorating lives as the years pass. Thus, learning key facts about the world, and acting accordingly, can save one from sorrow. It can also bring one a quiet contentment that, while perhaps of a different nature than the bliss of ignorance, is still a form of happiness.

What do you think: is ignorance necessary for happiness?

The inquisitive one was running through a forest on a winding path. Rocks and roots were poking up and snaking everywhere. The inquisitive one was thinking about lots of random things. Suddenly, a foot hit a root, and the inquisitive one flew helplessly forward, straight through the air!

“Oh no, I’m about to fall!” thought the inquisitive one.

The inquisitive one might have had many other thoughts at that point; but there was no time! In the next instant, the inquisitive one came to the realization that the feet had rapidly and crazily found ground to scramble over, as the arms had flown out perilously without touching ground.

“Wow!” thought the inquisitive one, running more slowly now. “My unconscious mind must be very powerful! I did not think about doing anything. There was no time to think. And yet, I did something miraculous—I saved myself from a possible injury!”

That evening, the inquisitive one attended a party. Wisely, instead of thinking, the inquisitive one drank a lot of alcohol and blabbed all night, until the host explained that the party was over.

The next day, the inquisitive one went to the local college to take a test. Wisely, instead of thinking, the inquisitive one used intuition to answer all the questions.

That evening, the inquisitive one agreed to go across the way to a neighbor’s house to help with an IKEA shelf that, according to the neighbor, had baffling assembly instructions. Wisely, instead of thinking, the inquisitive one used anschauung* to assemble the shelf.

The next day, the inquisitive one, remembering that test grades were now available online, clicked a button to log on to the course’s site. Then the phone started to ring, and the name of the party’s host appeared on the screen. And the doorbell rang, and the inquisitive one, glancing out the window, saw the neighbor at the door.

“Ahhh—what should I attend to first?!” wondered the inquisitive one.

That was the point when, without thinking too hard about it, the inquisitive one did something.

*Many thanks to R.D. for introducing me to this interesting Kantian word.