The Letters and Passages #1 – Room by Emma Donoghue

Note: I don’t know how many of these book reactions I’ll write. I don’t know how frequently I’ll write these either. But I do know that when I do write one, it’ll have changed my life, my thoughts… me – in a meaningful way.

The Preface

My friend, an extremely well-read fiction purist, highly recommended this book to me, a non-fiction purist, one beautiful Monday evening. She said if there was only one book I had to read when it came to fiction, it had to be this one. I asked her what it was about. She said only one word: “Perspective.”

Moreover, she prohibited me from doing any research online (as I like to do) or even reading the summary on the back cover. To date, it is the only book I’ve read not having done any homework on it whatsoever. And I’m glad I didn’t.

What I learned was much more than I could have ever hoped for. Throughout my read of Room, I had a constant reminder of what Josh Waitzkin, author, chess champion, and martial arts champion, said February this year on Episode #412 of the Tim Ferriss Show:

“When I studied Tai Chi for a year, I thought I knew what I was doing. And I thought I was really started to understand it. But after 2 years, I realized everything I thought after a year was wrong. It was just wrong. But now I understood.

And then after 4 years, I realized everything I thought after 2 years was wrong. And he went on with this story and this pattern, but now I understood. And after 8 years, everything I thought after 4 years was wrong. And now I’ve been training for 16 years; everything I thought after 8 years was wrong. And now, I finally understand…

It’s easy to think we’re in the dark yesterday, but in the light today. But we’re in the dark today too.”

Room by Emma Donoghue

I will warn that in this section, I will reveal some light spoilers. If you want to save that experience for yourself, feel free to jump to the epilogue of this post.

“‘Scared is what you’re feeling,’ says Ma, ‘but brave is what you’re doing.'” (116)

The first 100 pages were cute and endearing. Slowly, but surely, over the course of a week, I learned of the world inside an 11-by-11-foot space, from the eyes, ears, and the imagination of young Jack. To me, they were slow. Yet, each time Jack’s Ma shared one additional layer of perspective – another reference point, another anchor – I felt thrown back into square one. Seeing the 11-by-11 world again in new eyes.

The next 100 pages happened before I had a chance to blink. All before the hour was up. Yet only a mere 48 hours passed in the timeline of Jack’s world.

The final 100 pages, for the first time, I began to contextualize Jack’s world to mine. How much I take for granted. The small things. The ephemeral nature of life. But also how quickly I, like much of the world, tend to jump to conclusions when given only a fraction of the bigger picture. The me was exemplified in all the other characters in these 100 pages.

It’s a beautiful story – one I didn’t think I’d like. 10 pages in. It was just another book. 20 pages. It was just another book. 30. 40. 50. And so on. But on page 82, it went from another book to THE book.

The Epilogue

Perspective. It’s something I think the world could always use a little more of. There’s 7.8 billion people on this planet. One of eight bodies in this solar system. One of many interstellar objects and phenomena out there.

I’m writing in one of 6909 languages used in the world today. A participant in one, maybe two, of over 3800 cultures in this world. Both I’m sure are underestimations. Yet, everyone’s living a life I seemingly know nothing about.

Once again, I’m reminded of the answer one of my high-schoolmates wrote in his college application. A brilliantly concise one, to the question: What is a problem that exists in the world right now?

He wrote: “Ignorance. I know nothing about it.”

While the book doesn’t aim to answer all your existential questions, it does shed light into the simplicities and complexities in our world. And how often we tend to overlook each. Taking each as granted.

The world is in turmoil these days. A revolution of emotions. A war on beliefs. We spend so much time speaking our thoughts. Yet, not as much time listening to others’. As someone in the intelligence world once told me, “The most effective kind of communication is listening, not speaking. And listening is not just hearing.” Hearing is just letting audible sound transmit through the air. Listening is paying attention to the words and the context that follow another’s intentions.

So, I’ll end with Ma’s words on page 217. “That’s why God gave you a mouth to breathe through.”

Room, by Emma Donoghue, a book that reminded me that in exhaling I often forget to inhale.


The Letters and Passages is a series where I share my raw thoughts on the books, letters, passages, and the literature I come across. Those that inspire me. Those that change my perspective. And those that resonate the most. So much so, you might realize that the headings are in violet rather than the usual cyan blue.


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3 Replies to “The Letters and Passages #1 – Room by Emma Donoghue”

  1. There’s this quote I love, “Historians study the past not in order to repeat it, but in order to be liberated from it . . . we take reality for granted, thinking it is natural, inevitable and immutable. We forget that our world was created by an accidental chain of events.”

    Which I stumbled on watching this video about the history of women’s ideal body types and how trends are faster with new forms of media and it’s becoming easier to only think the present is all that exists:

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SY9BxTuYtcY&t=600s

    Waitzkin also has a quote I love about how you don’t need to cover the entire burning desert, just your shoes, to make the journey.

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