I have never been a fast reader. Even as a child I took my
time reading unless I was reading a
rip-roaring yarn, a great story, which made me want desperately to get to the
ending so that I could satisfy my greed for the denouement.
As I grew older, I still took my time reading, depending on
the subject. If it was a literary work, I would take my time to savor the writing,
to learn how to make that feeling that I get when reading great writing appear
in my own writing. If I am reading technical books or other non-fiction books for
a class or for work, I read carefully, pour over repeatedly, and copious
amounts of notes are taken to be read in my own sweet time. I read to make sure
I get all the substance of what the author is communicating.
But, if I am under time pressure to complete my reading, I
will speed up or skim rapidly as if I had the sword of Damocles hanging over me.
That kind of reading is less than satisfying as I am consciously trying too
hard to be efficient, which perversely makes me less efficient. My
comprehension rate during that time is the functional inverse of my reading
speed, so I end up reading the same papers and books repeatedly to gain the
same kind of comprehension that I would have gained if I read slowly through
the first time.
The last kind of reading is the recreational kind, where I
am devouring mysteries, popular fiction, and other entertaining genres. I will
admit that I don’t do too much of that anymore. I don’t know why, but they
stopped being interesting to me, except for certain authors and series. Considering
that this is reading for leisure, I tend to read slowly as well, except when I
reach a point in the story where I start to project the eventual ending and I revert
to my childhood habit of rushing through the book in search of the denouement.
I rarely go back and re-read the recreational reading books,
but I recently have returned to some of what I consider to be exceedingly well
written mysteries series because I lacked new reading material. The experience
has been mixed. For some, rushing through the book quickly was a good strategy
as I have found that the plotting or the writing left much to be desired,
something that I ignored or didn’t notice the first time through. Yet for other
authors and book series, I realized that I missed all the details and Easter
eggs the authors had left for the readers to find. I skipped right over them the
first time. A reminder from the reading gods to read slowly and pleasurably.
My preference for slow reading also influences my book collecting
habits. Although I love libraries as an institution, and I am a proponent of
using the library as often as possible; I prefer buying my reading material from
indie and used books stores online. The reason is that I cannot stand being on
a two weeklong reading treadmill, trying to finish reading a book before it is
due back to the library, it is not satisfying reading. I realize I can extend the
borrowing period, but there is also the fear that the library would not extend
the borrowing period if the book were a popular commodity.
So it is that when I joined Goodreads I was surprised when I
discovered all the Goodreads reading
contests which promote and encourage people to read as many books as possible
in a selected time period, usually a year. I understand their motivation
rationally: Goodreads is owned by Amazon and Amazon wants to sell books; I get
it. My surprise is that there are so many who have taken on these challenges
willingly. I could see where that challenge could be attractive to many people.
I'm just not one of them. I had not realized that reading has attain the status
of a competitive sport.
Even though my friends know me as an avid reader, I don't go
through as many books as my friends think I do.
I was thinking about this as I was reading a book by Frédérick Gros, a French philosopher. The book is titled:
A Philosophy of Walking. (Gros, 2011) The subject of
chapter 5 of this book on walking was about Slowness. My mind immediately drew
parallels between the walking experience that Gros is describing and my own reading
habit of reading slowly.
Gros’ point is that the walking activity needs to be the
focus of the walking activity. Indeed, there are other focuses to be undertaken
as we walk: to get in shape, to race from point A to point B in minimal time.
If indeed, walking is your focus, then speed should not be the focus, walking
should be the focus. If one is walking while focusing on pace, then one is
missing out on the greatest benefit of walking: to be absorbed in the experience
of walking, to be in the flow of walking, to lose yourself in the act of
walking, to gain the unconscious perspective that is walking.
Turning to my parallel viewpoint. If indeed, reading is your focus, then reading
quickly should not be the focus, reading should be the focus. If one is reading
while focusing on pace, then one is missing out on the greatest benefit of reading:
to be absorbed in the act of reading, to be in the flow of reading, to lose
yourself in the act of reading, to gain the unconscious perspective that is reading.
Many of the things that Gros said about walking applies to my
idea of reading.
Slow is not the opposite of fast. Slow is the opposite of
haste. Making haste in reading, as in walking, is to create an unnecessary and unwelcomed pressure
within our psyche to hurry what is natural so that we end up in an unnatural
state of haste.
Gros said that there must be an extreme regularity of paces,
to apply a uniformity to walking; so it is with reading as well. In order to
derive pleasure from reading, to gain perspectives of what is being read, to
gain understanding, to allow the mind to contemplate the beauty, cadence, and
structure of what is being read; there must be an extreme regularity of paces,
to apply a uniformity to reading. This is an impossibility if the speed of
reading is aligned with making haste, with consuming the words mechanistically,
as opposed absorbing the meanings, digesting the ideas, contemplating the way
the ideas are communicated, and appreciating the artistry of the writer.
Gros believes that there is an illusion associated with speed, that walking speedily saves time. This
illusion also exists with reading, reading quickly, and skimming haphazardously
will save the reader time. What to do with all that saved time? Inevitably, it
is to re-read what was missed in reading the first time while in a heated rush.
Haste and speed accelerate the passing of time; yet it also
means that the reader is not fully using. The slowness of reading deepens the
space that the reader inhabits in the minds of the writer, whereas reading in
haste makes the space around the reading more shallow.
Walking slowly makes the natural landscape become more
familiar for the walker. Reading slowly makes the writer’s written landscape become more
familiar for the reader. After all, that is the greatest of reading pleasures.
According to Gros, when the walker is fully engrossed in the
act of walking, it isn’t the walker that moves, it is the landscape that moves
around the walker. Same could be said about reading: when the reader is fully engrossed in the act
of reading, it isn’t the reader that moves through what is written, it is the
written that moves around the reader.
This short contemplation about reading has led me to think about my reading habits. I
realize that as I slow down the pace of my reading, my familiarity with the author’s world grows.
The more deliberate I become, the slower I read. There is much to be gained
from reading slowly. I grew to be more appreciative of the writing itself. Of
course, when it comes to reading a rip-roaring yarn, a great story; I will need
to consciously discipline myself to avoid haste, to practice what I preach.
Works Cited
Gros, F. (2011). A Philosophy of Walking.
London: Verso Books.
