Reading Remains Fundamental
Hat tip to A.M. for posing the question that inspired this post.
When I was in graduate school, my advisor, Helen Deutsch, said with her characteristically wry wit: “Oh. You’ll never be able to keep up with all the reading.” In the context of our conversation, she was talking about being a professor. Specifically, she meant that the field moves so quickly and in so many directions that you can only hope to keep up with all the knowledge being produced. My early ecclesiastical education put it thusly: “of the making of many books there is no end, and in much study, there is weariness for the flesh” (Ecclesiastes 12:12 NET).
I took that as a challenge, which meant I did a lot of reading, averaging a book a week, sometimes more to keep up with the assigned readings for graduate seminar. To retain what I read, I took peripatetic notes: musing meandering reactions, revisions, and, outright, replicas of the text. These helped me recall what I read well. I also took Aamir Mufti’s advice: go to the library and sit with the most recent copies of relevant journals in hand and just read. I relished Steven Salaita’s take in Arab American Literary Fictions, Cultures, and Politics: grab a pen and a book and lose time.
They aren’t wrong. But, there’s something missing.
As a single person with a disability, I am responsible for running my whole household: cooking, cleaning, diversions, work, etm. I also do this while managing a chronic health condition which means large blocks of time that are out of my control: doctors’ appointments, travel, medicated sleep, a body demanding rest or action. This does not leave an awful lot of time to get lost in a book. I could do this to the detriment of other activities but then: who would feed me? When would the house be clean? No one can show up at my doctors’ appointments for me. No one can teach my classes for me. While I didn’t feel burned out while reading in graduate school, I also had the constant nagging feeling that I was behind.
Alas, finding time is not the only problem. When I find time, I often wonder how I might understand and retain the information, how I might put it to good use. What good is knowledge if it stays trapped in the mind? I question whether I should read something more than once. Or, I quibble with my note-taking system. I fret over whether my mind is still a steel trap, my memory as long as an elephant’s.
I often recall Helen’s tone as she said it, a little wistful, but also clear and firm, her open palm seeming to hold the classroom’s fluorescent light, and with it, her axiom. She is right. So, I let go. I let go of the desire to read everything, to know everything. (I may have replaced that with a desire to know everyone, but that’s a different issue.) Instead, I deploy a few tricks to keep myself abreast of the field.
Read according to interest/project. Rather than read all the things, I read according to what I need for the writing project at the moment. If I do not have a writing project, which is less rare, I tend to read according to my interests. I browse top ten-lists and different presses’ forthcoming titles. I gaze upon my bookshelf for something in the TBR (to be read) pile.
Read introductions and then decide. In many academic books, the introduction lays out the general overview of the book’s context and larger questions and, often, the major argument. Sometimes, I am only interested in the introduction and a relevant chapter. This is one of the reasons why I ask my clients to strategically repeat themselves in book-length manuscripts. Sometimes folks just won’t read the entire book. The neat trick is that I am primed to return to that text or that author if I need more information later.
Peruse recent journals. As a poet and budding essayist, I find the amount of journals – both critical and literary – staggering. Every so often, I’ll make it my business to peruse the most recent issues of several of my favorites. I take the pressure off myself to know this information. The goal is only to figure out whether I am intrigued enough to find out more.
Take notes. I waffle between trusting that I will receive exactly what I need from my brain when I need it and not trusting that idea at all. Furthermore, I remind myself that characters who have total recall are characters: I do not expect myself to be Dr. Spencer Reid, Dr. Gregory House, Detective Adrian Monk, Detective Sherlock Holmes, or Dr. Sheldon Cooper. All men. Also, all generally understood to be stereotypical depictions of autism. I take notes, peripatetic notes as described above. The movement of my hands or fingers over the keyboard or mouth in dictation – all that sensory stimulation helps me calcify the information. I read it, absorb it, write and/or say it. This allows me to digest it more as well as have a place to go when I need those notes.
Ask genuine questions. Very often people will want to know about planets, but will ask about stars. So, when a writer answers the question about stars, they are disappointed, or they throw an adult tantrum which may or may not include insult, sulking, disrespect, or gossiping. Here’s the deal. Recognizing that you don’t know means that you get to ask questions that truly engage someone’s ideas, questions that truly excite you. When you read, then, you will position yourself to uncover, and be surprised. If you start with obligation and not curiosity, you may not even be on the path to enjoyment. To be honest, sometimes we have to read things we don’t like (there is a whole footnote on why Sander Gilman is useless to my inquiries in my second book. I’ve been there!), but when your reading overall begins from curiosity, you can stomach the unsavory bits.
Give yourself a break. In the best of circumstances, writers are part of communities where we share ideas and cultivate intellectual friendships. You’re not expected to remember everything on your own, nor should you really try. This vulnerability isn’t a weakness. It means that you, like others, require some form of community to think. Just remember to cite folks and thank them. That’s what footnotes, dedications, and acknowledgements are for.
If you like this newsletter, please make sure you’re subscribed. I am still taking appointments, so, please feel free to book a consultation using the website below.