Reader and Other Reader

Sunday, March 30th, 2008

Everything seems to be coming up reading lately.

A few days ago, I was talking with my mom about the book she just finished reading, The Mitfords, and she mentioned a passage in the book in which one of the Mitford sisters refers to reading as a “selfish” act at heart. On reflection, we both agreed that there’s something to that. Assuming you’re not reading aloud to someone, reading is certainly solitary, if not downright selfish. In burying your nose in a book, you are essentially rejecting the world around you—and the people in it—and choosing instead to immerse yourself in an imagined world which only you can experience.

Reading—well, good reading—takes you far away from your immediate surroundings. I suppose that’s why I would so often get utterly lost in books as a teenager. What shy, awkward 15-year-old wouldn’t want to escape the slings and arrows of adolescence and flee into—in my case—fabulous worlds of faraway kingdoms and brave princesses? Deep down, I am still that shy, awkward adolescent, and maybe that’s why I still like a good fantasy or SF romp. I’m a fan of escapism, I admit it. I hesitate to speculate on what that really says about me.

Speaking of which… The book review section in the New York Times today featured an essay entitled It’s Not You, It’s Your Books, which addresses the issue of judging people (specifically, potential romantic partners) by the books they read. Though judging someone by the contents of their bookshelves (or, indeed, the lack thereof) seems to be rather harsh, I can understand the impulse. When a guy I was dating in college said he “didn’t really read,” I have to admit that my opinion of him slipped several notches. But I was 18 at the time, and when you’re 18, your personal predilections play a much larger role in your relationships with other people than they do when you’re a bit more mature.

Nowadays, I like to think that I can separate the person from the chick-lit novel they’re reading. Nowadays, in fact, I’m friends with several people who “don’t really read,” or who never read fiction. I don’t share their tastes, but I don’t judge them for them either (just as I hope not to be judged for the fact that I can plow through trashy science fiction at an alarming rate).

While other people’s reading preferences might not matter as much to me these days, my interest is naturally instinctively piqued by people who read books which do resonate with me. I recently saw a guy on a plane reading Kant and the Platypus by Umberto Eco, and I was immediately intrigued. Had he been sitting next to me, I may have even broken my rule of not conversing with seat-mates on a plane and asked him what he thought of the book. Reading may be selfish in that it takes people into separate worlds, but books themselves can bring people together.

The New York Times article concluded that “for most people, love conquers literary taste.” As a bibliophile, I count myself lucky in that, with Jeremy, love and literary taste have largely gone hand in hand. We don’t read exactly the same books—he reads a lot more about network theory than I do, and I read a lot more Margaret Atwood than he does—but for the most part, our bookshelves are overflowing with books we’ve both read and enjoyed. And, at the end of the day, when we’re sitting side by side in bed, with our noses buried in our respective books, it doesn’t really matter what we’re reading; though we’re in different worlds, we’re together in our mutual love of literature.

Which brings me to one of my all-time favorite literary passages on the subject of reading. It’s from If on a winter’s night a traveler by Italo Calvino, perhaps the ultimate book about reading. I read it years ago in Germany (and in German, in fact), and though I got completely lost in its book-within-a-book-within-a-book structure and, in the end, wasn’t quite sure whether I had enjoyed it (or even understood it), this passage stayed with me, and it never fails to move me:

“Today each of you is the object of the other’s reading, each reads in the other the unwritten story. Tomorrow, Reader and Other Reader, if you are together, if you lie down in the same bed like a settled couple, each will turn on the lamp at the side of the bed and sink into his or her book; two parallel readings will accompany the approach of sleep; first you, then you will turn out the light, returning from separated universes, you will find each other fleetingly in the darkness, where all separations are erased, before divergent dreams draw you again, one to one side, and one to the other. But do not wax ironic on this prospect of conjugal harmony: what happier image of a couple could you set it against?”

Indeed.

Comments

1

I find by and large that the people I truly enjoy have interesting books on their shelves. More importantly, I find that I really enjoy folks who have whole shelves of books that intrigue me, even if only so I can borrow… ;o)

All joking aside, I come from a family of readers and am currently being run of my apartment by books - the living room is a bit of an obstacle course as I have run of shelves and places to put shelve. Friends are saying I need to set up ceiling shelves. Ceiling shelves is a bad idea in earthquake country. Time for a bigger apartment…

My brother is currently living with a girlfriend who does not read at all and I have a hard time after the first ten minutes of finding what to talk about to her. Her knowledge comes from word of mouth & Fox News & supermarket gossip photo rags. Even though we live in the same country we come from very different cultures & mental spaces (fictive spaces, perhaps).

3

I used to judge people by what they read. Now it almost goes in reverse - if I don’t like them that much but they love books that I love I’m confused, as in "how can we like the same ideas but not be able to be friends?"

4

I totally judge people by the books they read. I had an ex-flatmate who loved The Da Vinci Code, Patricia Cornwall and other tripe like that… I wouldn’t let her store her books in my bookcase in case someone came over and thought they were mine :)

If someone says they never miss American Idol or Big Brother I automatically think they are less intelligent - I guess the same holds true of reading, if they think Dan Brown is the best writer to ever live, I think we’re not going to have much in common.

Posted by Cheryl

5

Judge not lest thou be judged …

I think the point of Jessica’s post was not so much trying to hook up with someone who has the exact taste as yourself (that is more of lucky happenstance) but more so a general disposition toward a certain pleasure … in this case reading.

If one person thinks NASCAR is the only thing worth waiting for on a weekend and the other dreams of watching Torchwood are they both nicompoops or simply people with different tastes who will not likely stay together in the long term?

I worry over people who don’t enjoy a bit of trash in their lives be it worthless programming on the television or read and trash fantasy/sci-fi paperbacks. Maybe your version of trash is a twinkie both literally and figuratively … either way it is the child in you delighting in the inconsequential.

When I travel, I take mindless dribble with me to read and then leave it in the hotel because it helps me to sleep. It wouldn’t due to lug around a copy of Les Miserables in those situations.

By the way, Cheryl, I don’t miss an episode of Big Brother and it ticked me off when March Madness delayed it’ s broadcast. Who’s less intelligent the 40-something couch potato rooting for a bunch of players in a sport they never play or me wanting to take a purient view of people stupid enough to place themselves in a bubble for money …

In the end, I still have my Master’s degree and still free relatively intelligent …

Posted by Michael

6

Admittedly, it’s tough not to judge someone, on some level, for the books they read / music they listen to / TV they watch / life they live, at least if their tastes are very different from one’s own. Despite the old "opposites attract" adage, we’re naturally attracted to people who seem to be like us. But I wouldn’t go so far as to assume that I’d have absolutely nothing in common with someone who loved an author I thought was dreadful, watched a TV show I had no interest in, or listened to a band I hated (unless it was Jamiroquai—then we might have a problem).

Of course you can tell something about a person by looking at their bookshelves; maybe you can even tell quite a lot. But you certainly can’t tell everything, which is why I would never write someone off solely because I thought they had crummy taste in literature. As I said, I’m friends with lots of people whose reading tastes in no way coincide with mine—but maybe we like the same music or have the same hobbies, or maybe they’re just really nice people who are fun to hang out with.

Anyway, who’s to say why we respond to the things we do? I’ve never watched an episode of Big Brother in my life and I have absolutely no desire to start now. But I do watch Desperate Housewives—not the most intellectually stimulating entertainment on earth. I love Kieslowki’s "Trois Couleurs" trilogy, but I also love Ghostbusters. My bookshelves are pretty well packed with highbrow literature, but sometimes I just want mindless entertainment. I think it’s good to be versatile. :-) In the end, you like what you like, and I don’t think you should be forced to justify yourself for it.

And as far as getting along with other people, I suspect that what’s more important than sharing the same taste in books is sharing an interest in life and the wider world. I think it’s that type of intellectual curiosity that really brings people together—and keeps them together.

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