Like many professors, I've always been a promiscuous reader. From cereal boxes to 19th-century novels, if it's in front of me, I'll read it. Especially in the summer.
I'm usually reading at least five books. Late afternoons I'll be deep into a work-related volume, usually a piece of literary nonfiction, something I'll either want to teach or study to see what moves and tricks I can steal to use in my own writing. That is when I indulge in any John McPhee work I haven't gotten to, parse the sentences of Joan Didion, or wallow in the essays of E.B. White.
In my car I have audiobooks from the library. The new Tracy Kidder, or a novel that's gotten critical acclaim like Junot Diaz's The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, or a classic I've somehow missed (I just finished listening to Lord of the Flies). Books can make driving around doing errands a pleasure.
I like to take my iPod on superlong runs. I love to hear Malcolm Gladwell's books in his own voice, and currently I'm listening to Michael Pollan read The Omnivore's Dilemma. My electronic library is full of things like Louis Menand's The Metaphysical Club and David Mitchell's Cloud Atlas.
I don't leave home without my Kindle. If I have to wait in a doctor's office or for my car's oil to be changed, I can sample a Sherlock Holmes story, a book or two of Paradise Lost, a couple of pages of The Autobiography of Ben Franklin, the stories of Mark Twain, or any of the novels of the Brontë sisters. I've downloaded all of those and more, many more—for free—and read to suit my mood. I'll also download whatever new blockbuster mystery Amazon is offering up gratis.
And then, well, I have the stack beside my bed.
When I first started teaching, I had a powerful and misguided need to be popular. So I brought a giant bag of trashy paperbacks I had read to my creative-writing course, and tried to donate them to my graduate students. You would have thought I'd offered these people a stash of child porn. No one wanted to touch the books; they only wanted highbrow novels. My students looked at me in a new way: That's what you read?
There was a time when I wouldn't have been caught dead with a less-than-serious book. I remember when my boss at Oxford University Press, now a longtime director of another prestigious scholarly publishing house, told me what he read at home. He would leave behind manuscripts on postmodern theory and incomprehensible lit crit and indulge in Robert Ludlum. Sometimes, when I was feeling snarky and superior—or, more to the point, wasn't getting my way on something—I'd say "Well, what can you expect from a guy who reads Patriot Games?" I didn't get it.
When you're young and thinky, you feel like you have to hurry to catch up, to read the things that everyone else has read. You have to make your reading time count. In college, I would go to an excellent used bookstore and look for the paperbacks with orange spines. The Penguin classics provided all the pulp I needed. While I wouldn't have recognized it at the time, I suppose that I harbored a recondite fear that if I didn't keep reading the good stuff, I would slip into the literary equivalent of having Cheez-Its for dinner. I suspected that reading crap would make me crappy.
And so I went to the opposite extreme, brandishing my dog-eared copy of Ulysses like a pride flag. The paperback I carried in my purse was The Palm at the End of the Mind, the selected poems of Wallace Stevens. I truly loved those books, but I also loved what they announced to the world about me. And I can't fault my graduate students for not wanting my recycled, salt-stained novels.
We read in different ways. Academics learn to ingest not only content, but also to analyze and critique an author's argument. Writers read to see not whodunit, but how the author did it. All the writers I know say they have lost the pleasure of reading in their own genres. It's constant work: How did he manage to earn that ending? How does she get away with those shifts in tense?
But we all need an off switch for our weary brains. Some of us activate it by watching soccer. Others by knitting baby hats. I wish my leisure activity were more different from my day job, but I can't help it. Reading is what I do for fun. And so I allow myself to suspend critical judgment and surrender to a plot-driven, fast-paced novel. I can ignore shoddy sentences (most of the time—Twilight proved too challenging even for me). I can handle flat characters and improbable twists. I hope I never stop shuddering at clichés, but sometimes a little shuddering is the price you have to pay to shut down your monkey mind.
Usually I'm diverted. Sometimes I learn stuff. I can't do every subgenre. You couldn't pay me to read fantasy or science fiction. Not that I haven't read some good ones and enjoyed them, but as Jessica Rabbit said, I'm just not drawn that way.
But chick lit can be a delight. Jennifer Crusie's novels are sharp and snappy, and I'd rather settle in with one of them than watch Tom Cruise strut his short stuff on a big screen. Give me a sociopathic serial killer and I'll spend hours in bed with him. I'll take a cozy murder mystery, a legal thriller, a medical suspense novel, and escape. Some of those authors are smarter than their books, but some of those books are darned good.
Ruth Rendell's American editor told me that she was one of the most brilliant authors he had ever worked with. This from a guy who had also published Stephen Hawking. Joseph Finder, brother of an editor at The New Yorker, is someone whose new thrillers I look forward to. But you're not likely to see his writing in The New Yorker.
I'm not immune to normal puritanical fears about wasting time. But during the school year, when I feel overwhelmed with deadlines, grading, and meetings, and am stuck in ruts of worry, or in the summer, when I need a break from writing, I'll take an afternoon off to lose myself for a few hours in a Michael Connolly, a Lee Child, a Margaret Maron, a Lisa Unger. Lately, like millions of others, I'm into Scandinavian noir.
What I hear from academic friends and graduate students is that they have too much to read and can't take any time to read for pleasure.
That attitude surprises me, since they are people who are engaged in writing. Reading outside of your discipline, for form as well as content, for pleasure as well as productivity, is one of the best things you can do to improve your work. Listening carefully to well-wrought sentences, paying attention to how an author keeps a reader engaged, can only help your own prose.
And it never hurts to be reminded of how books work. Plot-driven novels tend to vary paragraph and chapter length. Would it help the pace of your dissertation to have some smaller chunks amid the big blocks of content-thick text? There are cheap ways to make things seem immediate (using the present tense; having breathless short sentences), but there are also more sophisticated methods to make your manuscript compelling. When you read fiction, you pick up on those. Dipping into poetry reminds me to think about language, about the sounds as well as the sense. When I want to get psyched for writing, I find me some Gerard Manley Hopkins. All that juice and all that joy? Bring it on.
This summer I will continue to read five books at a time. I know that I will be sharing pulpy novels with some of my colleagues, those who can steal time away from kids—and mowing the lawn, paying the bills, and preparing new classes—to read for relaxation; those who understand that while imbibing serious, substantive work can make you smarter, reading less sober stuff doesn't necessarily make you dumber.
Comments
1. fiona - July 28, 2010 at 02:54 am
I like the phrase "young and thinky."
2. interested_reader3 - July 28, 2010 at 08:32 am
As part of the 'read-a-cereal-box-if-it-has-words-on-the-back' crowd, I love reading the full range of novels, from great ones to junky ones (even graphic novels and comic books!). The more, the better. But I draw the line at discussing Oprah-listed books in a book club. Junky reading is a personal guilty pleasure - no need to analyze publicly!
3. rhinoceros - July 28, 2010 at 10:20 am
I enjoyed the article. I used to read 4-5 books at a time, but I've cut it down to two, a nonfiction and a fiction book. I will read pretty much anything. I enjoy the crime/serial killer/legal thriller books, but I also read history, biography, political science, mathematics, etc. I generally take a book with me everywhere. When I go out of town for a weekend, I usually pack 3-4 books so that I don't run out of anything to read.
4. racheltoor - July 28, 2010 at 10:23 am
Thank you, fiona. I'm not sure "middle-aged and thinky" is quite as good, even though it may be apt for some of us these days. Interested_reader: I agree, though I also think that Oprah picks some darned good books occasionally.
5. 22007444 - July 28, 2010 at 10:54 am
I find that pleasure reading allows my academic brain to take a an almost audible breath, as if welcoming the chance to sit back with some time to organize itself around the scholarly information I stuff into it. Or, maybe that is the justification I use to allow myself pleasure reading time. Either way - thanks for the validation that I won't automatically end up dumber!
6. cordelia - July 28, 2010 at 11:07 am
I used to think that I was too 'middle-aged and thinky' for audiobooks, but I agree with you that they make dull errands and long commutes more bearable. Plus they help me to get through my workouts. But audiobooks are a guilty pleasure that I hide from my colleagues, after the look I got from suggesting them to one.
7. racheltoor - July 28, 2010 at 11:18 am
I just don't get the disdain for audiobooks. Does this mean that blind people are able only to enjoy guilty-pleasure reading?
8. interested_reader3 - July 28, 2010 at 11:23 am
I paused before I wrote "Oprah-listed books" because I realize she's expanded from the latest 'it' book to serious classics, such as Elie Wiesel's Night. I just meant that if I'm going to get to the level of required reading for a book club accompanied by serious thoughtfulness and criticism, I'm not going to do that for a book that I've chosen just for fun! For fun, I might read a teenage series (yes, there are good ones besides Twilight), one of the thousands of great detective/police novels, or even one of the hundreds of Harlequin Romances that a faculty relative bequeathed to my family along with her academic book collection! And, I fully admit I sometimes volunteer to do family errands alone simply because I want to hear the next section of my audio book. Oh, heck, Rachel said it all - just give me the back of a cereal box or a Real Simple magazine from 6 months ago (advice usually still relevant!) and I'm happy.
9. interested_reader3 - July 28, 2010 at 11:36 am
One more thing about audiobooks - it's hard to find a full range of books - heavy on the truly junky. I usually order classics through an interlibrary loan system.
10. robjenkins - July 28, 2010 at 01:28 pm
Surely the idea that all fiction can be divided into two categories, literary and pulp, is pure nonsense. One of the greatest stylists working in America today is James Lee Burke, who writes detective fiction. Orson Scott Card, the prolific sci-fi icon, is also the consummate craftsman. And few novelists understand pace better than Michael Connelly, whose police procedurals are among the best in the genre. All writers, of whatever type, can learn from these people--not to mention enjoy their books.
11. fiona - July 28, 2010 at 02:36 pm
Agreeing with robjenkins. I don't think it benefits us to call popular books "junky." In fact, it promotes snobbery toward the general public and toward our students. Mine read "Twilight" and not much else, and that's fine with me. By insisting that only hard books are worth reading, academics wind up turning off the popular readers who are the ones who are going to keep publishing and reading alive.
Also, the books that are considered "junky" are often the ones that are about emotions and women. That should be reconsidered.
12. babyboomer46 - July 28, 2010 at 03:56 pm
Rachel, I really enjoyed your ideas and writing style! I am a senior college administrator and social scientist,with a serious reading habit since first grade. I too have felt I had to keep a few reading secrets, like my long-time suscription to People Magazine. Of course as colleagues hoot "You, read People?!",I I assure them I read it for the excellent film and book reviews! Seriously, there is no better release than a spy novel thriller after a day of patiently dealing with learning outcome assessment and angry parents!
13. cordelia - July 28, 2010 at 04:11 pm
9. If you're depending on your local library, this might be a problem. I belong to an online audiobook purchase club, and I haven't had too much difficulty finding quality contemporary books and classics. It's true there are more thrillers, mysteries, chick lit and self-help books, but I've listened to many Booker Prize winners and nominees, for example. I recently listened to Ian McEwan's 'Solar' and Martin Amis's 'The Pregnant Widow,' and I just downloaded David Mitchell's latest.
10, 11. While I agree in theory that we shouldn't categorize pop books as junky, I'm truly appalled that some of my colleagues hahve started teaching things like 'The Lovely Bones' in Introduction to Literature courses. Don't get me wrong--I listened to it on audiobook, and it was entertaining. But "literature"? (Maybe we should change the course title to Introduction to Books, since so few of our students seem to be readers, according to recent surveys.)
14. ikant - July 29, 2010 at 12:49 am
I like this article, but it still seems to maintain the distinction between "high" and "low" - it just asserts that "low" is okay. Whereas I actually think that it might be better to work at blurring that distinction altogether. The Twilight series isn't bad because it's "low" art, it's bad because the writing and plotting are terrible. Morever, plenty of books that have made it into the realm of "literature," whatever that means, started life as mass-produced serials and other popular media.
While I certainly find certain books easier to read than others, I don't think that makes that book less worthwhile, and certainly not less substantive. I say, let's read whatever the hell we like and forget the high/low distinction.
15. fergbutt - July 29, 2010 at 08:20 am
The best summer reading is examining information that challenges the status quo viewpoint. True enlightenment comes from looking for the counterintuitive discourse, ideas that makes professors a bituncomfortable with their smug knowledge. I recommend http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,2007202,00.html
16. samanthak - July 29, 2010 at 09:30 am
Fiona, I agree with you. "Thinky" is now an official addition to the lexicon.
17. digiwonk - July 29, 2010 at 10:18 am
Ha! You know, the only problem I have with reading for pleasure is that I can't pace myself. I am not usually so engrossed in the textbook, or theory book, or stack of articles that I will binge read, but I read all four Twilight books ... in four days. I didn't want to! I just couldn't stop! Maybe I'm used to the pacing of TV or movies, but I am relentless in my need to FINISH THE DAMNED BOOK. After a certain point, I'm not even really enjoying it, because I'm too tired, or it's suppertime and I need to cook something, but I somehow can't put it down.
Oops.
18. bbafa - July 29, 2010 at 02:40 pm
Thank you for granting permission to expose my dirty little secret. Reading is my addiction. It's not what I read, but how much, that I keep hidden. Books are like music - I choose the genre to suit my mood. A couple stacks of books and magazines surround my place on the couch; my "break time" at work is spent reading on-line articles and blogs.
Rachel, you convinced me to get a Kindle. I had considered it only as a replacement for my beloved printed books... but now I see it can be a lovely enhancement to my reading world.
19. interested_reader3 - July 30, 2010 at 11:10 am
digiwonk - there are 2 people in my family of 5 that have this 'disease' of needing to finish -- even if you don't like the book, now, and FAST! It means the rest of us won't allow them to bring books on vacation because they're too 'stuck' to do anything else! (We're in the Sistine Chapel looking up at the ceiling, they're on the bench outside with a book.) Seriously, there must be a cure for this, and when you find it, let me know!
20. racheltoor - July 30, 2010 at 12:02 pm
bbafa: Kindles have just gotten cheaper and, apparently, better. For us thinky people who can't be without books (I no longer have to finish them--there are too many good books to read that I don't stick with ones that truly suck), it's a great addition.
21. garyo - August 04, 2010 at 02:54 pm
Thanks for this article, Rachel. It really rang true for me, having read cereal boxes, comics, etc., growing up. I too looked out for those orange spines!--a great short cut when browsing. But I needed to convince myself that a different kind of reading might be not only relaxing but helpful, sort of resting parts of my brain before I got back to Faulkner or literary criticism. So I am relishing time with Preston & Child and Nelson DeMille!
22. herstorian_nan - August 10, 2010 at 01:38 pm
Although I tend to stick to one (maybe two) books to read at a time, I keep a long list of books available on tape or cd for long car rides. Usually I bring 3 or 4 so if I don't feel up to some serious non-fiction, I can listen to lighter fare. A good public library that allows us to request items (then brought to the local branch) makes all the difference.
I do have to offer one caveat beyond whether books are available in audio form---the number that are available only in an abridged version. All cd's I could find for The Metaphysical Club are abridged (if you found the full version, please provide citation info). As Snoopy would say---abridged versions are not unlike drinking diluted rootbeer.
My guilty pleasure this last year was memoirs, especially by academics. Not all are "great" reads, but sometimes the gossip factor makes up for a not so great writing style. And they allowed me to think more about who I want to be as a member of the academic community.
I will make one plea for *Twilight* or any other book that is so popular---it allows me to converse with my nieces and other teenagers. And you can then look for other books to send their way. It's worth reading just about anything if it allows you to meet people part of the way.