Kia ora to writer Renée Taylor, who has penned a piece for our blog this week in response to our theme Reading in the Digital Age.

Don’t growl me, Miss

Renée

Rose, my mother, taught me to read before I went to school and because of this I raced through the primers in a year. I was eight when I read my first long book, Emily of New Moon by LM Montgomery and realised that happiness was a book that contained one story that went on and on and that there were hundreds of these delicious magical life–changing stories waiting. All I had to do was go to the library and find them. Rose was a great reader but she wasn’t keen on people, they treated her differently because she was Māori living in a mainly Pākehā community, most of whom made it clear they thought it was her fault her husband had shot himself.

So once I joined the Taradale Library I chose books for her and books for me. I read both and so did she. She read crime novels, I read anything. I read every spare moment. I read in bed, while doing the dishes, walking along the street, in the bath and as I recorded in These Two Hands, Rose said to me, ‘If you don’t get your head out of a book my girl, you’ll end up on Queer Street.’

At the time I knew Queer Street was the apocryphal name given to the street where all the secondhand shops and pawnbrokers were. I think I must have learned that from Dickens. But Rose’s words sound funny and prophetic with a different meaning now in 2019.

I went to work at twelve and I read on the bus and in the lunch hour. I read my way around the Napier library, I read while feeding my babies, I read, I read, I read. And of course I read books. Books with covers, print books. At my 90th birthday party my oldest son recalled me taking him and his two brothers to the river, making sure I found a safe possie for them to swim, then once they were in the water, sitting down on the bank, one finger curling a piece of my hair, I disappeared into a book. That they never drowned is due to good fortune not their mother’s care and attention. They all became readers though so I did something right.

So being told I had age–related macular degeneration was a blow so huge I couldn’t encompass the enormity of it. ‘You’ll always be able to find your way round,’ said the ophthalmologist chirpily, ‘you won’t be completely blind.’

For a while as my eyesight got worse I still went to the library and borrowed books. I discovered Large Print books which worked for a while but given they were mainly all old novels by Georgette Heyer, whom I regard highly for her command of structure and fondly because I read them all when I was young and love them still, but I don’t want to read them all the time. I tried audio books which I hated but no doubt I’ll have to settle for them eventually.

Then I bought an iPad, began buying ebooks and realised almost instantly I’d stepped over into enemy territory. They’re not proper books, people screamed, proper books have covers, they have pages, they are held. Those who read ebooks are undercutting NZ writers.

I got a Geek to install a large screen which is linked to my MacPro and set up large print on the screen so I’m still able to work. I joined The Blind Foundation who gave me a white stick. People who carry a white stick always have some residual sight, just not much. If I was totally blind I’d have a guide dog. Reading labels, seeing crumbs on the floor, peeling vegetables, all have become tasks that have to be done carefully. I have torches placed strategically and little red dots to show me where the power points are. Looking into black is impossible so I can't use ATM machines so when I want cash I put money in a friend’s cheque account through my online banking and she gets me the cash.

I can’t see my face in the mirror properly BUT I can still read because there are ebooks. So, like the kids used to say in Wairoa, ‘Don’t growl me Miss.’ Be thankful for me and those like me who care and revel and absolutely love reading, love books, who are doing the best they can, okay?

- A novelist, poet and playwright who lives in Ōtaki, Renée was recently awarded the Prime Minister’s Award for Literary Achievement and the Playmarket Award for significant artistic contribution to New Zealand theatre. In 2017 she published her bestselling memoir These Two Hands. Renée's new crime novel The Wild Card will be launched in October by Cuba Press.