Told you I remember my father took a photo of me reading Isaac Asimov's The Naked Sun the first time around, and here it is. It was taken in my parents' living room, which is still their living room today (albeit with severely different furnishing).
Turns out I had the photo with me: last time (which was also the only time) my parents visited us here, my mother brought a small photo album with her, and this photo was a proud member of her collection.
According to what my father wrote on the back of the photo, it was taken in July 1980, which means I was 9 years old at the time.
It also means that I was reading the book during the summer holidays between 4th and 5th grade, in contrast to the notion I maintained which was that I read it between the 5th and the 6th. I have to say I find it quite amazing I was reading such deep books when I was 9, because I cannot see the 9 year olds I know today doing the same. But then again, times have changed, and at the time there wasn't much for me to do other than read and go downstairs to play outside with my friends.
Anyway, 26 years later on, I have to agree with my old self: The Naked Sun is one mean mother of a good book.