I’ve written and posted elsewhere about reading on holiday in Rome. In these photos I’m sitting in Colle Oppio and Terme di Traiano Park or Oppian Hill Park near our apartment which was near the Colosseum. Admittedly, I’m sort of “fake reading” for the photos here, but we actually did quite a lot of reading at the end of our days in that park. We’d stuff a couple of pillows and a blanket into our bag and head out with some books. When we were lucky we’d find a bench in the sun, but the pleasure of reading outside was so delightful in November and early December. I’m remembering those times with such intense fondness.

I recently read an article on The Guardian which got me thinking once again about how I read, the act of reading, and how I’m reading now. In the article, the author, Ella Creamer, quotes a paper about digital reading, remarking that the researchers were not “against digital reading.” However:
“It’s just that, based on what we have found, digital reading habits do not pay off as much as print reading. That is why, when recommending reading activities, schools and school leaders should emphasise print reading more than digital reading, especially for younger readers.”

She also quotes a professor from U of Valencia who says:

“that the “reading mindset” for digital texts also tends to be more shallow than that for printed materials, with scanning being more common. This can mean the reader “doesn’t fully get immersed in the narration, or doesn’t fully capture the complex relations in an informative text”.

Does this track with your experience? It does with mine.

Many of us avid reader types found it difficult to read during the pandemic and experienced varieties of brain fog. I found that reading print books helped dissipate that fog for me. At first I was just reading stuff I’d read before. I’d just read the stuff I’d previously dogeared and underlined. (Which for me, was a lot of sentences! luckily). And then a while after that, I returned to my habit of underlining and generally reading with a pen in hand.

But I know that my reading at that time was a bit weird. I read a book by a friend of mine, for example, Revery: A Year of Bees by Jenna Butler, and when taking it off the shelf the other day, found I could hardly remember reading it! I remember thinking, wow, great book, but none of it stuck. So when I sat down and read it cover to cover a few days ago, it was almost new again! Amazing book btw. HIGHLY recommend. It’s the kind of book you’re going to want to buy multiple copies of and give to friends.

The whole subject of reading is fascinating to me. When our daughter was small I was signed up for a longitudinal study on early literacy and was regularly interviewed until she turned 18 by someone from Stats Can about the number of books in our home, how often we visited the library, and our reading habits etc. I always felt that perhaps we were outliers and should not be counted much like Spiders Georg.

I think the point there was that kids learn from the modelling of their parents. And so while we should definitely be excited about childhood literacy, you really aren’t going to get anywhere without modelling from the adults around them. So how to get reading more? How to get others reading more?

I’m interested in things like silent book club, or bring your own book club. The latter I sort of do informally with writer friends.

Just getting yourself to a library is going to put you in the way of books you might not otherwise find. Browsing! Remember that old pastime? I loved this article about writing in libraries.

As always, I recommend reading poetry as a jumpstart to your daily reading (or writing). A nice little warm-up if you will. The beloved CD Wright wrote the following:

This Much I Know:

Poetry will not go quietly. You would have to starve it out, and it can eat on very little. Hunger and love move the world, didn’t Schiller say so.

Have you read the opening of If On a Winter’s Night a Traveller by Italo Calvino? It’s the book, as has been said, with which everyone falls in love with Calvino. It begins:

“You are about to begin reading Italo Calvino’s new novel, If on a winter’s night a traveler. Relax. Concentrate. Dispel every other thought. Let the world around you fade. Best to close the door; the TV is always on in the next room. Tell the others right away, “No, I don’t want to watch TV!” Raise your voice — they won’t hear you otherwise — “I’m reading! I don’t want to be disturbed!” Maybe they haven’t heard you, with all that racket; speak louder, yell: “I’m beginning to read Italo Calvino’s new novel!” Or if you prefer, don’t say anything; just hope they’ll leave you alone.”

These days, the TV is the least of our problems. And I know it sounds a bit self-serving to have a writer tell you that reading paper books more will make you happier, but I think it will. And anyway I also know I’m preaching to the converted in this space :)

But what I’m wondering, these days, is how to model the behaviour of reading more? In the summer, I’m going to try and read more in public spaces and on park benches. Maybe until then I’ll read in cafes and in libraries. It reminds me of Seen Reading — that delightful blog (and book) by Julie Wilson. How can we these days encourage others to be seen reading? What would encourage you?

My lingering thought then: poetry will not go quietly. Reading will not go quietly. Books will not go quietly.

January 22, 2024