top of page
Writer's pictureLilly L

Another read can be worthwhile

[The asterisks throughout this article are referenced in Spoiler City.]


If you've already read a book, why would you read it again? For the same reasons you'd rewatch a movie or show: to appreciate it once again. I've only reread a handful of books in my life, and that's partial criteria as to how I know it's one of my absolute favorites. After writing out a review in my journal, I know that there's still more to uncover that I simply cannot extract from a first read. When I read a book for the first time, I'm mainly focused on understanding the plot and character relationships--the skeleton of the book. I'll probably notice some descriptions that catch my attention or some symbolism, but I won't see it all. To understand the muscle fibers and neurons that make up the body of a book, I have to go back for another round.


Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow


I've recently reread Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin (Tomorrow 3x) for the first time--meaning my second read--and the book is now tabbed from cover to cover. Unfortunately, this book is one that'd I'd recommend going into as blind as possible, so I can only provide limited information.


One-sentence premise: It's a book about friends making video games, but it's also so much more than that.


Genre: Literary fiction, meaning it's character-driven


Number of pages in my review journal: 1.5 my first read, 4 my second read


Past Lilly knew what she was saying in her initial review: "This book is an example of art. There's enough information given to you to fill in the rest and connect the dots and it makes you feel good that you're able to make the connections." I was taking a drawing class at the time and concepts were connecting across disciplines. I also noted that the book felt so real that there were many points in reading where I questioned whether it was fiction or based on a true story.


When a book has received a 5-star rating from me, I will always try to imagine how it can become a movie. Giving more power to Zevin, there were distinct parts of the book where it'd be difficult to execute the same feelings conjured in the reading experience.* I can't get into it without spoiling, so I'll leave it at that. This story is best told as a novel.


At a certain part of Tomorrow 3x on my first read, I created some ambience for myself. My gut was telling me that this was a crucial, life-altering part of the book, and I had just the song in mind to play on a loop while reading it.** The sensory memories I've created with this one song are insane. I only associate this song with not even the book as a whole but just a section. Whenever it comes up in my playlist, I'm immediately shot back to the memory of me sitting in my apartment hallway on the carpeted floor reading this book. When I read that same section this time around, the song started playing in my head without me listening to any music. I'm not sure if this is a unique experience to me, but it's a deep and meaningful one that carries such weight.


Rereading


This novel serves as a perfect example as to why rereading a book is one of the best experiences. You know what to expect, so now there's space to notice other details--the recurring themes and small details of foreshadowing. You can read the book with a different lens: focus more on the perspective of a character and see how that changes your perceptions of the others. Even though I'm reading the same words, I sometimes feel like I gain a better understanding of a character the second time around, as if I'm taking the time to process and truly understand what they're going through.


Annotating System

As far as my annotating system goes, I typically practice it on rereads or if I know it's a tab-worthy book on its first read. I use basic book tabs in highlighter rainbow colors.

Since I usually can't think of seven different things to tab while reading, I like to match colors from the book cover. Tomorrow 3x has an iconic cover of The Great Wave off Kanagawa with the title in rainbow colors. For this specific book, there were some themes I knew I wanted to look out for, so I was able to assign five colors to the following categories: redacted Theme***, Metaphor, Someone said, Description, and Something else. This isn't very different from my typical system.

  • Someone said = a quotation said by a character

  • Description = typically of scenery and setting

  • Message = a theme the author conveys

  • Something else = when the rest of the categories simply aren't enough and it's a heartstring-tugging moment

    • Fun fact: this category was created amidst reading A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway

When I've reached a significant page or chapter, I place the tab on the top of a page rather than the side.


I've seen other readers tab with different colors based on their emotions while reading; this world is truly your oyster. To keep track of whatever system I come up with for a book, I create a key on a sticky note that I attach to the inside of the front cover. I also like to note on the key when I've started and finished the book by month and year. Many readers keep their annotating tools (e.g. pencils, tabs, rulers, sticky notes) in a pouch, but I think this creates a larger activation energy for me to annotate.

So instead, I stick mainly to the book tabs, and I use the whole set of tabs as my bookmark to avoid losing it or having to place it somewhere else apart from the book. Can you tell I've thought about this system a lot?


What rereads do for me

I feel like the idea of rereading a book has a higher activation energy than rewatching a movie. Rightfully so, reading a book will most times take longer than watching a movie--unless if you're watching Oppenheimer, but that's besides the point. As mentioned earlier, I can gain a lot from rereading a book. Sometimes they're read for comfort or nostalgia. I can better evaluate how I actually feel about a character and see what I want to take away from each one. Rereading a favorite book of mine that I KNOW is incredible can also pull me out of a reading slump. My drive is ignited and rejuvenated by the same words that made me enjoy the book the first time.


It's fun to see if a book can still meet my standards after reading other books in between. I gave my favorite book of all time--The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway--3.5 stars the first time I read it, and 5 stars for the times after. I gave The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger 5 stars in high school, mostly because my English Lit teacher made rain as a symbol of rebirth sound so cool. Fast forward a few years and I gave it 2 stars on my second reread, partially because I learned it's the favorite book of many serial killers. Nonetheless, perceptions can change over time, and it's fascinating to witness my own.


Sometimes, rereads feel necessary, and I know that the first read wasn't enough. I read Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin earlier this year, and I've been looking forward to rereading it the moment I finished it. I gave the book 4 stars, but I can feel its 5-star potential; it simply needs time to marinate on the back burner. There's something endearing about this feeling of potential. I wanted to go into the book blind the first time around, but now I can conduct some research to create a different lens for the next read. Articles on literary analysis have been deeply insightful; other people are able to point out the metaphors and meanings that go over my head. In school, it was frowned upon to look up summaries and interpretations of the assigned books, but it's different now, especially when reading for leisure. Learning the historical context and the parts of an author's life that influence them to write the book fosters a deeper human connection. (Trying not to spoil) What encouraged Baldwin to write a story through a perspective different from his own experiences? I wouldn't be able to appreciate the work as deeply if not for this additional information.


 

Spoiler City


Welcome to Spoiler City! As I'm sure you're starting to gather, I will be talking about every detail I consider significant from the New York Times Bestseller Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow. So, if you'd like to experience a 5-star read similar to mine, now would be the time to step away. Below are the asterisked references made earlier in the article; if you really want to know the song I associate with a particular section of this book, I'll tell you now to protect you from any other spoilers.


** - Song: "A World Without Pain" - Daigo Hanada

You'll know when to play it, trust me


Okay, now I'm really lettin' loose.


* - Why a movie wouldn't do it justice e.g. when Sam and Sadie discuss the makings of Ichigo and Zevin time jumps to a blip of an interview about the highly successful game. It's moments like this when I can't visualize how a director would execute these time skips to provide that greater context without struggling to make it feel as seamless as the book.

** - When I played the song on a loop: "Part VII. The NPC." I mean, are you kidding me?

*** - The redacted theme: Human Connection/Love


Before we really get into it, I have to mention that the structure of this book made it so much fun to read. The chapters reflect the video game of the section; for example, "Part IV. Both Sides" reflects the split and lack of communication between Sam and Sadie while they make a game set in two different worlds.


Vocabulary

Something that caught me off guard while reading this book was the sprinkle of vocabulary Zevin uses. I wish I took better note of all the words that felt new and sophisticated to me, but that can be the next reread's objective. One of my favorite words I'm learning and still trying to fully understand is tautology.

As stated by Sadie's grandmother, Freda, "'life is very long, unless it is not.'"


"A name is destiny, if you think it is."

When Sam recollects his childhood with his mom, Anna Lee, there are many traumas associated with other Anna Lee's or iterations of the name. At first, I couldn't understand the purpose of including the descriptive traumatic events. I could tell that there was some kind of through line, but I couldn't see why. The first Anna Lee, aside from Sam's mother, is the woman who jumps off of a building in New York. This scene feels especially haunting to Sam's Anna; someone with the same exact name as her has jumped off of a building to land right at her feet. The common name only makes it easy and terrifying to witness an alternate ending to her life not even in an alternate universe but in the same world.


After they move to Los Angeles, Sam's Anna auditions as a gameshow model, potentially replacing the previous model, whose name is Anne and dies in a car crash. Knowing that Sam's Anna dies in a car accident, I thought that Zevin was conveying the following message: no matter what we may attempt to set ourselves apart from the sea of people, life can still catch up to us in different ways. The deaths of the Annes and Annas creep up to Sam's Anna, as if it's her tragic fate. But it still didn't make sense; what purpose does this recurring theme of 'Anna' serve?


The theme ties back to why I think this book constitutes as art. The connection to explain it all is closer to the end of the book, when Sam discovers that Marx's mother's name is also Anna Lee. Marx uses this commonality to establish that Sam and Marx are destined to be brothers without Sam ever knowing. "A name is destiny, if you think it is." Perhaps it's a tautology, connecting Anna Lee's name to the destiny of death but also to potential human connection. A name only carries significance if you want it to. It can be a major part of your identity which ties back to the opening line of the novel: "Before Mazer invented himself as Mazer, he was Samson Mazer, and before he was Samson Mazer, he was Samson Masur--a change of two letters that transformed him from a nice, ostensibly Jewish boy to a Professional Builder of Worlds--and for most of his youth, he was Sam, S.A.M. on the hall of fame of his grandfather's Donkey Kong machine, but mainly Sam." Identity and having a strong sense of self is something that I often think about, and Tomorrow 3x encapsulates the spectrum of the weight a name can carry.


Chronic pain

I've dealt with undiagnosed chronic pain for a good chunk of my life. I commonly ask people, "Wait, you don't ever feel random spasms when you walk sometimes?" and I quickly learn that some of my day-to-day pain is not normal. I've built my tolerance over time, but there are still some days where the pain is debilitating and it's difficult to focus on anything. There's a distinct theme in Tomorrow 3x surrounding chronic pain and the physical and mental traumas that it stems from or further amplifies, and I was surprisingly able to relate to Sam's character through this topic.


Of course, I don't have the same trauma or pain as Sam. I didn't witness my mother's death in a fatal car crash that also created trouble with my foot that later gets amputated to make me feel phantom limb disorder. No, I'm not even close to feeling what Sam feels, but some of the descriptions still resonate with me. Pain has this ability to overtake one's brain capacity. Like a virus, it has no boundaries, and it can seep into and overtake every part of life without warrant.


"Sam's doctor said to him, 'The good news is that the pain is in your head.'

But I am in my head, Sam thought."
"Disturbingly, for the first time in his life, games proved neither distraction nor comfort. The pain seemed to occupy spaces in his mind that had heretofore been untouched or reserved exclusively for imaginary endeavors."

Part of what makes this theme feel more significant is that I wouldn't necessarily expect this to be a topic included in a book about making video games. But like I said in the one-sentence premise, this book is about so much more than that. In the end, it's about human connection and the character developments. It's about how people overcome struggle and pain and loss.


Characters

It's clear that there are three main characters in Tomorrow 3x: Sam, Sadie, and Marx. It was fun to question who the main character is. If I went in with a different lens each time, I could argue as to how each of the three is the main.


Samson Masur/S.A.M./Mazer: During my reread, I questioned whether Sam is a likable character. Don't get me wrong, he goes through a lot of trauma, but it doesn't take away from how he goes about life. He's a persistent character, and I think his tunnel vision prevents him from being more empathetic at times. The persistence can be helpful, like when he helps pull Sadie out of her first breakup with Dov and pushes the two of them to create Ichigo. Part of what frustrates me about Sam's character--but what also makes him more real--is that he doesn't seek the proper care he needs and deserves. He endures life with so much pain, trying to conceal it from the people closest to him who only want to help. He pushes himself into isolation and questions why he and Sadie never get together.


Sadie Green: In some ways, I wish to be perceived similarly to Sadie.

"She was intelligent, but her intelligence didn't get in the way of her enthusiasm."

She's a strong character who isn't afraid to ruffle people's feathers. She values her craft more than the traction or money it may reel in. Sadie is such a strong female character without too much emphasis on her sex that it makes me think this story is about her. She's the one who finds Sam in the game room. She creates Solution and hands it off to Sam which inspires him to make a game with her. She builds a life with Marx and reshapes it as she grieves. Ultimately, she controls the making of many games.


Marx Watanabe, Tamer of Horses:

"'Tamer of horses' is an honest profession. The lines mean that one doesn't have to be a god or a king for your life to have meaning.'"

Oh, Marx. *sigh* Where do I begin? He's a beautiful, optimistic character. One could argue that Marx is secretly the main character, as he's the through line that keeps things together. He maintains the working relationship between Sam and Sadie. He's the CFO of Unfair Games, manages enough for Sam and Sadie to not worry about any company logistics, and focuses on the expansion of the company. He loves deeply, enjoys being devoured, and it shows.


Marx's death is a simple tragedy. Of course, he puts himself at risk of being harmed to protect the people of his company. Of course, he jumps in front of Ant to try to take any bullet hits. Marx is no NPC. That section ("Part VII. The NPC") is written in the second-person perspective which isn't commonly done but I feel was very integral and necessary for its total effect. The section also isn't a numbered chapter; it's simply its own part. I knew it was coming during my reread--no surprises or twists, but that didn't matter. I was on the shuttle, on my way to work at 7:30am, and I felt the tears welling up. I had to pause and close the book to gather myself multiple times.


I don't want to die the same way as Marx, but I want to be him when I grow up. I want to carry a similar outlook on life:

"Marx was fortunate because he saw everything as if it were a fortuitous bounty. It was impossible to know--were persimmons his favorite fruit, or had they just now become his favorite fruit because there they were, growing in his own backyard?"

Human Connection

The interpersonal relationships of the three main characters feel so real at times--full of affection and strain.


Sam and Sadie's relationship buds when they're young kids, bonding over Oregon Trail and getting Mario to land on the top of the flagpole. They have a falling out, and reunite to once again talk about games. They develop a magnetic synergy to create amazing games together, but they never take the time to build their friendship outside of work. There's little to no mention of them asking about each others' lives outside of Unfair Games. They're unable to properly communicate to each other throughout the book which leads to the avoidant behavior in "Part IV. Both Sides."


When two single people have synergy like Sam and Sadie, it's natural to question why they're not romantically involved. I appreciate that Sam and Sadie never cross that boundary, despite each of them thinking about it at some point. If framed the right way, a friendship can be seen as a stronger bond--a stronger love. There was one message I took away from A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara that I think applies to Sam and Sadie: "Why wasn't friendship as good as a relationship? Why wasn't it even better? It was two people who remained together, day after day, bound not by sex or physical attraction or money or children or property, but only by the shared agreement to keep going, the mutual dedication to a union that could never be codified."


Sam and Marx are brothers. Marx doesn't make it seem like he takes on a caregiver role for Sam, and I believe that it's because Marx truly doesn't see their relationship in that way. Everyone can use assistance here and there in life, and Sam happens to need a little more help around his injury. Besides the question of asking Sadie out, each of these characters stay in their lanes, because their strong suits don't exactly overlap, and that's what makes them such a dynamic duo. Marx can't code games like Sam, but he knows how to sustain the energy and momentum to develop a game as a producer. They're both appreciative of each other without explicitly saying it--just like brothers would be.


Sadie and Marx is a relationship that I did not see coming in my first read. Maybe I'm a bit oblivious, because I noticed everything in the reread. Seeing Marx and Sadie's love for each other sprout is so much fun; their chemistry is palpable. It's a couple I wouldn't predict getting together but when they are, it somehow makes a lot of sense. There's definite build up to their romantic relationship, but I think the realness of the relationship is built from what's not mentioned. It's really only when Sam notices that Sadie is in love that it also becomes real for the reader. But even from the beginning, there's a fundamental appreciation that Marx has for Sadie as a person. To Marx, Sadie a good reread:

"Marx was a prodigious reader, and he felt like Sadie might be the kind of book that one could read many times, and always come away with something new."
 

When I wrote my review for Tomorrow 3x in my journal, I didn't know where to begin. I looked at the book, saw all the colored tabs, and knew that those quotations would almost speak for themselves. I started copying down the notable quotations, which (not surprisingly) ended up being most of them, and integrated my commentary in between. I reread "Part VII. The NPC" while listening to "A World Without Pain" just to feel the deep appreciation I have for this novel. While writing this article, I realized that I never officially gave this reread a star rating in my journal. I was so lost in my feelings and thoughts...5 stars.


11 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comentários


bottom of page