I wrote this in response to a conversation elsewhere, but wanted to save and expand on it here.

Because I read constantly, I will reread almost anything, even books I was fairly ‘meh’ about the first time through. I reread for comfort, but also for entertainment – I don’t mind spoilers, and often I find new things on further rereads. (I don’t know how many times I’ve read, Pride and Prejudice, but it is still bringing me new gifts each time – and Darcy falls for Elizabeth a little earlier on each reading.) There are very few books I don’t reread, and they fall into three categories, two related and one opposing. One group, of course, is the books I hated so much that I will not go back there. Those are the ones that feel sordid or so badly written that I can’t sink into the story, or where every character is unpleasant, or nonfiction that I find stupid and illogical. The second is books that I’m not set against rereading, but always seem to find something more appealing when I look at my shelves (this is the biggest of the three categories; Byatt’s Possession falls here for me, as do many of the things I read because I was made to or thought I should rather than because I wanted to).

And then there’s the third group, that only includes about four books. Those are the ones that made me, the ones I reread so often as a kid that I simply don’t need to read them now, because they have their own permanent address in my brain. A Wrinkle in Time is one of those. The others are Little Women, and to a lesser degree the two Menolly books, Dragonsong and Dragonsinger.