Books are the plane, and the train, and the road. They are the destination and the journey. — Anna Quindlen
Beyond Objects: Books as Modes of Travel
Anna Quindlen’s image of books as “the plane, and the train, and the road” reframes reading as movement rather than mere consumption. Instead of static stacks of paper, books become vehicles that carry us outward and inward at once. This metaphor suggests that, when we open a book, we effectively purchase a ticket—not just to another place, but to another point of view. As with any journey, we submit to routes we did not design, timetables we did not set, and landscapes we could never fully predict, allowing the text to guide our imagination step by step.
The Journey: How Stories Transport Us
From this starting point, Quindlen’s words highlight the experiential side of reading: the journey. Novels like J.R.R. Tolkien’s *The Lord of the Rings* (1954–55) invite readers to traverse entire continents, cultures, and histories that do not exist outside the page, yet feel palpably real. Likewise, a memoir such as Nelson Mandela’s *Long Walk to Freedom* (1994) lets us walk beside him through prisons and parliaments. In both cases, the book functions as train and road, guiding us through sequences of events and emotional terrains we could not reach unaided. The value lies not only in where we arrive, but in how the slow unfolding of narrative alters our perceptions along the way.
The Destination: Arriving Somewhere New Inside Ourselves
Yet Quindlen goes further, insisting that books are also “the destination,” implying that reading does not merely move us; it changes where—and who—we are when we stop. When we finish James Baldwin’s *The Fire Next Time* (1963), we do not simply close a cover; we arrive at a new mental landscape, one shaped by searing insights about race, faith, and justice. This arrival is internal: we gain concepts, questions, and sensitivities that linger long after plot details fade. Thus, books become places we have “been,” in the same way that a city we once visited still colors our sense of the world.
The Dual Nature of Reading: Process and Outcome
By uniting journey and destination, Quindlen points to the dual nature of reading as both experience and result. The process—the turning of pages, the gradual deepening of characters, the tension of not knowing what comes next—corresponds to our time on the road. At the same time, the outcome—new knowledge, empathy, or resolve—resembles finally stepping off the train into a different country. Educational research on narrative transportation, such as Melanie Green and Timothy Brock’s work in the early 2000s, shows that when people are deeply absorbed in a story, their attitudes and beliefs can shift. In this way, reading is not metaphorically like travel; it functions psychologically as travel.
Companions on the Road: Books and Human Connection
Moreover, if books are vehicles and destinations, they also shape the fellow travelers we encounter. Shared reading creates common itineraries: two strangers who have read the same novel already “know” a place in common, even if it is entirely imaginary. Book clubs and classroom discussions operate like travel reunions, where people compare routes, missed turns, and favorite vistas. This communal aspect extends Quindlen’s metaphor by suggesting that books not only move individuals, but also knit together communities around mutual journeys and arrivals, sometimes bridging differences of age, culture, or politics.
Why the Metaphor Matters in a Digital Age
Finally, in an era of instant information and fragmented attention, Quindlen’s metaphor quietly defends the slow, immersive nature of reading. Social media posts may resemble snapshots taken from a moving car, but books invite us to board a long-haul flight of sustained focus. This commitment of time and imagination is precisely what allows books to function as both road and destination: without the willingness to travel, there can be no meaningful arrival. Thus, her statement becomes an invitation to treat reading not as a chore or mere tool, but as a form of deliberate voyaging that continually expands the map of where our minds and hearts can go.