Reading in the twilight years

Reading in the twilight years

 

By Lee Hyon-soo

 

Having entered the twilight of life with little to occupy my days, I now spend much of my time reading. I turn eagerly to books on history, philosophy, religion, literature, art and more. Yet among these disciplines, it is literature that brings me the greatest joy. More often than seeking out new works, I return to those I once read long ago.

 

In days gone by, I read many world-famous works of literature, deeply moved by the dramas that unfolded in their pages. But I was so green and inexperienced that I read them hurriedly and without fully appreciating their literary merits. Now, with the weight of years upon me, I revisit those same pages and discover new depths. My comprehension is broader, my sympathies are richer, and the emotions they stir resonate far more deeply.

 

The words themselves have not changed, but I have. Thus, the experience of reading is utterly transformed. I also find myself recognizing the value of works I once dismissed. Novels that seemed tedious in my youth now reveal their profundity and poems that once baffled me now speak with clarity and grace.

 

The conflicts, love, loss, and hope in these stories no longer appear as mere “tales.” They echo the very drama of my own life. For instance, when I encounter a character facing disappointment, I recall my own setbacks. When I read of friendships tested by betrayal, I am reminded of moments when trust in my own life was shaken. When a hero dares to hope against all odds, I remember the moments when I clung to faith despite uncertainty. Literature becomes a vast mirror, reflecting not only the lives of others but my own journey—its struggles, triumphs, regrets, and the quiet joys that give it meaning.

 

With the accumulation of life experience, I read with greater sensitivity to nuance, the implicit meanings and resonances woven into each line. Sentences I once skimmed now come alive with fresh significance. A single phrase may strike me with the force of truth, while a simple metaphor suddenly unfolds into unexpected wisdom. I realize that books are like reservoirs; they hold far more than one can draw at any single moment. Each return yields something new, something suited to the season of life in which one reads.

 

Thus, reading in the twilight years is no longer merely a pursuit of knowledge or inspiration. It is an act of reflection, a way of sorting through and making sense of life itself. Literature becomes both a companion and a solace along the weary road of age. When the days grow quiet and solitude stretches long, the company of great writers provides both comfort and stimulation. Their voices remind me that I am part of the vast human story still unfolding.

 

Having lived for more than 80 years, I find that rereading great works of literature brings me the joy of discovering new worlds within familiar pages. There is a saying that expresses a truth I hold dear: “A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.”

 

Until the end of my days, I intend to read with diligence—especially the enduring works of literature, which never fail to renew my spirit in this twilight season of life.

 

The writer (tomhslee43@gmail.com) is a freelance columnist based in Toronto, Canada and the author of “Tales of A Modern-day Nomad,” published recently in the United States.

 

Feedback from a reader:

I enjoyed your article so much, as reading is a hobby to me Your much reading enhances your writing which you do so well. We enjoy reading you. Yes, books let us travel to many places and times. Writers teach us and entertain us. We thank you for doing this.

William Rogers Jones

 

Note: The above article appeared in the September 29, 2025 issue of The Korea Times.