A while ago I was watching an old Simpsons episode in which we meet Homer’s mother. At one point she and Lisa have a bonding moment on the front stoop:
Grandma: I saw all your awards, Lisa. They’re mighty impressive.
Lisa: Aw, I just keep them out to bug Bart, heh.
Grandma: [reproachful] Don’t be bashful. When I was your age, kids made fun of me because I read at the ninth-grade level.
Lisa: Me too!
Homer: [walking on his hands] Hey, Mom! Look at me! Look at what I can do!
Grandma: I see you, Homer. That’s very nice.
[to Lisa] Although I hardly consider “A Separate Peace” the ninth-grade level.
Lisa: Shyeah, more like preschool.
Grandma: I hate John Knowles.
Lisa: Me too.
[they both laugh, then sigh]
Homer: Mom! You’re not looking!
Grandma: You know, Lisa, I feel like I have an instant rapport with you.
Lisa: [gasps] You didn’t dumb it down! You said “rapport”.
The funny thing is, I was partway through a re-reading of A Separate Peace at the time. I read it when I was a kid, I think because my friend Colleen said it was good. I’m pretty sure I enjoyed it that time. Then recently, I picked it up from the bargain table at the bookstore a few weeks — or maybe months — before that Simpsons aired. Finally, later, got around to re-reading it to see what I thought of it as a grownup, and to gauge my powers of recollection. And that’s when we watched that episode. Funny coincidence. Any case, it was a strange read. I kept expecting something horrible to happen. I remembered it as a book about a kid’s friend dying, but reading it I started to think I had it mixed up with some other book. I didn’t enjoy the read all that much. Who knows, though? I’m somewhat impressionable at times, and if Lisa Simpson didn’t like it, maybe my brain decided I couldn’t either. Hm.
