In much the same way that writers and would-be writers are drawn to well-written accounts of other writers' processes and philosophies, as a voracious lifelong reader, I've always been fascinated by the attempts of others to understand how and why we read. I'm not talking about the science of how we acquire the ability to read --- though that also is an interesting topic --- but rather the intellectual pursuit of what draws us to read for pleasure, knowledge or connection, and how what we read shapes who we are.

For that reason, despite or perhaps because of its provocative title, I was immediately drawn to BIBLIOPHOBIA. Best known as a literary critic and co-author of THE FERRANTE LETTERS, Sarah Chihaya opens her unusual memoir with a chapter also entitled "Bibliophobia" that explains the origins of the book's title. Here she begins to describe (though the most harrowing details are revealed later on) the mental breakdown that resulted in her hospitalization. As she explains, this breakdown always felt inevitable to her: "It wasn't a surprise that I ended up in the hospital. The main surprise was how long it took me to get there."

"Some sections of BIBLIOPHOBIA come as close as anything I've read to describing some of the phenomenon of losing oneself in a book... BIBLIOPHOBIA is rich, complex and rewarding, as the very best reading should be."

So for Chihaya, the most troubling aspect of her breakdown was not that it happened at all, but that it was accompanied by a truly disturbing side effect: she became profoundly disinterested in reading. "Reading was my whole life, whether I liked it or not: My work life and my home life were built around reading, my physical space constructed by walls of books. All of them were useless to me now, and, looking at them, I felt nauseous." The balance of that opening chapter begins to trace the roots of her acute bibliophobia and also follows her as she finds, with the help of her friend and a particularly forceful book recommendation, her way out of it.

Subsequent chapters delve into Chihaya's personal history as it intersects with specific books. This sounds like a rather superficial or simplistic way to structure a memoir, but I assure you that this surface description is not doing it justice. In these sections, she touches not only on the books themselves and where she was in her life when she first encountered them, but on a multitude of other topics that --- much like the process of being a lifelong reader --- spiral out from this center in intricate and intriguing ways.

In a chapter on L.M. Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables series, for example, Chihaya reflects not only on her own youthful reading habits, but on her country of origin (Canada) and her cultural heritage (Japanese). She ruminates about tidy narratives and if the stories we tell about ourselves are as carefully crafted as the novels we read. In addition, she reveals her early suicide attempts and reflects on Montgomery's own likely suicide.

Some sections of BIBLIOPHOBIA come as close as anything I've read to describing some of the phenomenon of losing oneself in a book, and what that phrase even means when you think about it seriously: "I didn't go to books to be a heroine. I went to books because I wanted to be --- nothing, nobody. I wanted nothing so much as to be a kind of sociable air, circulating invisibly in the room, necessary but never noticed."

In most cases, later chapters focus largely on individual books (such as A.S. Byatt's POSSESSION or Toni Morrison's THE BLUEST EYE). But each carefully wrought chapter also introduces a host of other references and considerations, not to mention insights into Chihaya's own story, finally circling back to the events leading up to that breakdown. Inveterate readers will appreciate that Chihaya opens the volume with a comprehensive list of all the books considered within.

Initially, the memoir can read like a series of personal essays on a common theme, but these chapters do gradually build on one another, as Chihaya's story becomes the narrative of her lifelong quest to find the book that will save her --- and her realization of the impossibility of that pursuit. BIBLIOPHOBIA is rich, complex and rewarding, as the very best reading should be.