Who am I kidding?
I lead a simple life now. I am foolish, an old man in love, a dreamer who dreams of nothing but reading to Allie and holding her whenever I can. I am a sinner with many faults and a man who believes in magic, but I am too old to change and too old to care.
When I finally reach her room my body is weak. My legs wobble, my eyes are blurred, and my heart is beating funny inside my chest. I struggle with the knob, and in the end it takes two hands and three truckloads of effort. The door opens and light from the hallway spills in, illuminating the bed where she sleeps. I think, as I see her, I am nothing but a passerby on a busy city street, forgotten forever.
Her room is quiet, and she is lying with the covers halfway up. After a moment I see her roll to one side, and her noises bring back memories of happier times. She looks small in her bed, and as I watch her I know it is over between us. The air is stale and I shiver. This place has become our tomb.
I do not move, on this our anniversary, for almost a minute, and I long to tell her how I feel, but I stay quiet so I won’t wake her. Besides, it is written on the slip of paper that I will slide under her pillow. It says:
Love, in these last and tender hours is sensitive and very pure
Come morning light with soft-lit powers to awaken love that’s ever sure.
I think I hear someone coming, so I enter her room and close the door behind me. Blackness descends and I cross her floor from memory and reach the window. I open the curtains, and the moon stares back, large and full, the guardian of the evening. I turn to Allie and dream a thousand dreams, and though I know I should not, I sit on her bed while I slip the note beneath her pillow. Then I reach across and gently touch her face, soft like powder. I stroke her hair, and my breath is taken away. I feel wonder, I feel awe, like a composer first discovering the works of Mozart. She stirs and opens her eyes, squinting softly, and I suddenly regret my foolishness, for I know she will begin to cry and scream, for this is what she always does. I am impulsive and weak, this I know, but I feel an urge to attempt the impossible and I lean toward her, our faces drawing closer.
And when her lips meet mine, I feel a strange tingling I have never felt before, in all our years together, but I do not pull back. And suddenly, a miracle, for I feel her mouth open and I discover a forgotten paradise, unchanged all this time, ageless like the stars. I feel the warmth of her body, and as our tongues meet, I allow myself to slip away, as I had so many years ago. I close my eyes and become a mighty ship in churning waters, strong and fearless, and she is my sails. I gently trace the outline of her cheek, then take her hand in mine. I kiss her lips, her cheeks, and listen as she takes a breath. She murmurs softly, “Oh, Noah . . . I’ve missed you.” Another miracle—the greatest of all!—and there’s no way I can stop the tears as we begin to slip toward heaven itself. For at that moment, the world is full of wonder as I feel her fingers reach for the buttons on my shirt and slowly, ever so slowly, she begins to undo them one by one.
Reading Group Guide
A Q & A with Nicholas Sparks
Q. What is the inspiration for this book? Is it based to any extent on your own experiences or the experiences of those you know?
A. The Notebook was originally inspired by the story of my wife’s beloved grandparents. They had a truly magical relationship, one that withstood the test of time and circumstance. At the time I’d met them, they had been married for over sixty years and I remember marveling at how much they still seemed to care for each other. The Notebook attempts to describe such a love.
With that said, The Notebook is a novel, not a memoir. Many changes were made regarding their story, in order to make the novel more universal, while staying committed to my original intent.
Q. How do you account for the success of your novel? What do you think its overriding appeal is?
A. It’s never simple to pinpoint the reasons for a book’s success. In the case of The Notebook, I think the most obvious reason is that the story touched people in a deeply personal way. It seems that nearly everyone I spoke with about the novel knew a “Noah and Allie” in their own life. As people made this connection, the book became a so-called “word of mouth” success, with those who enjoyed it recommending it to others. In the end, any book that sells well needs to have this sort of support from readers.
On a more practical level, the novel’s short length was appealing to many people. Nowadays, we all seem to have less time to read and The Notebook probably owes much of its success to the fact that people could finish it in one or two sittings. I think that readers also appreciated that the novel did not include foul language and its love scene was tasteful and mild compared to what’s found in many other novels. These factors made people feel comfortable about recommending it to others.