When I was in my early teens, my father gave me a hard time about the books I read. I would invariably return from the public library with volumes of fiction: I solved mysteries with Nancy Drew, watched Hercules Poirot twirl his moustache on his egg-shaped head (for whatever reason, I just didn’t like Miss Marple), attended the lavish parties F. Scott Fitzgerald carefully constructed, sought the number 42 while hitchhiking across the galaxy, and relished the spookiness in the worlds of R.L. Stine. Choose Your Own Adventure books were worth their weights in gold and I wished Judy Blume was my friend.
(Tangent: The first time I ever read about a suicide was in J.D. Salinger’s short story, “A Perfect Day for Bananafish“. I remember feeling horrified upon reading Seymour’s suicide; I reread the page several times in disbelief. It was simultaneously compelling and horrifying.)
My father encouraged me to read Stilwell and the American Experience in China. Boooooooring.
“You should read non-fiction,” he opined. “The truth is more interesting than fiction. Reality is better.”
I disagreed. Fiction captured my attention and stimulated my imagination. I equated non-fiction with the history textbooks in school—the reason I wanted to read fiction was to get away from the list of bulleted facts I was required to read for class. Reality was not better; reality was dull.
(However, I shall readily confess that I read, re-read, and then re-read several more times the 1990 (?) edition of the Reader Digest’s Book of Facts. I particularly liked the sections on ancient civilizations—people really sacrificed other people to the Sun god?—and space—when would the Sun turn into a supernova star?)
As I progressed in my education, I devoted less and less time to pleasure reading. My courses demanded that I mentally digest (and then regurgitate) material related to biochemical pathways, the structure and sharing of genetic material, the interactions of antibodies with antigens, the capriciousness of HIV, the anatomy of the hand, the ion exchanges in the kidney, the criteria to differentiate alcohol abuse from dependence, the various blood vessels that feed the large intestine, the side effects of blood pressure medications, the different positions a fetus can adopt while in the womb, the various layers of skin, and how hemoglobin “captures” and “releases” oxygen.
My knowledge of biology and medicine grew while my ability to write and spell like a normal human being diminished.
(Then I started blogging.)
It was only about a year and a half ago that I impressed upon myself the need to read non-medical literature. There is more to life than randomized, double-blinded, placebo-controlled studies, handbooks detailing algorithms for various clinical scenarios, textbooks providing endless facts about health and pathology, and “how to” books about various interventions. Who was Harry Potter? What exactly was the Da Vinci Code?
These are the (non-medical) books I have completed thus far in 2007:
- Impro
- American Born Chinese (fiction)
- The Chinese in America
- Never Let Me Go (fiction)
- Affluenza
- The Tipping Point
Sadly, I think I’ve read more books in the past five months than I have in the previous two years.
What is also remarkable is that four of the above books are classified as non-fiction… and most of the recent additions to my wishlist (someone has a birthday coming up… cough cough) are also non-fiction texts. This does not indicate a dramatic change in character: When I daydream about the library I will have when I grow up, I see myself curled up on an overstuffed, oversized couch next to a large, picture-frame window that is dotted with raindrops, a cup of hot chocolate on a small table nearby, and a work of fiction in my lap.
I feel ambivalent when I walk into bookstores; on the one hand, I love perusing the aisles, skimming the myriad of titles, and sampling pages here and there. On the other hand, I hate that I don’t have the time to read all the books that interest me. Walking into a bookstore reminds me of the things I cannot have right now—including the priceless pleasure of reading many good books.
(Part of the ongoing Relationship Series.)
5 Jun 2007 |
I share your love of books/reading and almost always reach for fiction. My daily life is full of enough reality and I want diversion when I read. I devoured all of the Harry Potter books and am waiting as eagerly as any child for the last one.
Comment by donnalee | 6 Jun 2007 @ 5:39am
You might enjoy “Sealed Orders” by Agnes Sanford (auto biography). She almost single handedly reintroduced healing prayer to Christianity, in the early 1900’s (she was born in 1898 and lived her formative years in China–her father was a missionary–and loved those years.
Comment by Don Austin | 6 Jun 2007 @ 6:51am
I love my books, and reading relaxes me, so I make it a point to read for a few minutes before I sleep. It takes me ages to finish a novel, but at least I read something other than the BMJ.
Comment by tscd | 6 Jun 2007 @ 6:58am
While in the middle of a term, I feel about non-school books the way dieters feel about Twinkies: they’re a dangerous temptation that it’s best not to have around. I don’t trust my willpower; even if I manage to put off reading until the studying is done, I will then do something equally silly and stay up way too late with the fun book, making me exhausted and useless in class the next day. So I share your ambivalence about bookstores. Going to Amazon can be equally tinged with regret for what I can’t have, as their algorithms are convinced that all I want to read are medical texts.
Comment by LadyGrey | 6 Jun 2007 @ 11:34am
I can’t believe you’re counting a comic book. I could get my reading stats up too if I CHEATED!!!!
I think the last printed word book I read for fun was Judith Rich Harris’ No Two Alike. Poor poor life…..
Comment by Justin Slotman | 6 Jun 2007 @ 2:03pm
Never Let Me Go astounded me. I saw it today while at B&N and instantly flashed back to the first time I read it.
My current favorite is The Time Traveler’s Wife.
I like non-fiction, but it is through fiction that I am able to escape, to be a part of someone else’s story for awhile.
Comment by catherine | 6 Jun 2007 @ 5:34pm
Have you read John McPhee? His Heirs of General Practise and The Headmaster are two that I read recently and absolutely loved.
Comment by karrvakarela | 7 Jun 2007 @ 4:16am
I find that over the past few years I mostly read non-fiction. It may be the blogging thing, I’m not sure.
May I recommend “Stumbling on Happiness?” Fascinating read, though unfortunately not enough pull together at the end for us non-psychologists..
Comment by tbtam | 9 Jun 2007 @ 5:49am
comic-novels so are legitimate literature! nonetheless, it’s a good start maria. try jimmy corrigan next =)
Comment by yaser | 9 Jun 2007 @ 4:06pm
You have mentioned “Affluenza” in the list of books.
In this context I want to post a part from my article which examines the impact of Speed, Overstimulation, Consumerism and Industrialization on our Minds and Environment. Please read.
Industrial Society Destroys Mind and Environment.
The fast-paced, consumerist lifestyle of Industrial Society is causing exponential rise in psychological problems besides destroying the environment. All issues are interlinked. Our Minds cannot be peaceful when attention-spans are down to nanoseconds, microseconds and milliseconds. Our Minds cannot be peaceful if we destroy Nature.
The link between Mind and Social / Environmental-Issues.
Subject : In a fast society slow emotions become extinct.
Subject : A thinking mind cannot feel.
Subject : Scientific/ Industrial/ Financial thinking destroys the planet.
Emotion is what we experience during gaps in our thinking.
If there are no gaps there is no emotion.
Today people are thinking all the time and are mistaking thought (words/ language) for emotion.
When society switches-over from physical work (agriculture) to mental work (scientific/ industrial/ financial/ fast visuals/ fast words ) the speed of thinking keeps on accelerating and the gaps between thinking go on decreasing.
There comes a time when there are almost no gaps.
People become incapable of experiencing/ tolerating gaps.
Emotion ends.
Man becomes machine.
A society that speeds up mentally experiences every mental slowing-down as Depression / Anxiety.
A ( travelling )society that speeds up physically experiences every physical slowing-down as Depression / Anxiety.
A society that entertains itself daily experiences every non-entertaining moment as Depression / Anxiety.
To read the complete article please follow any of these links :
PlanetSave
FreeInfoSociety
ePhilosopher
Corrupt
sushil_yadav
Comment by sushil | 10 Jun 2007 @ 9:49pm
[…] My LibraryThing catalog does not include all the books I have ever read, as I frankly cannot recall all the books I have ever set my eyes upon. I am no longer the ravenous reader I once was; I fondly remember many summers wandering the aisles of the public library, running my fingertips along the worn spines of the books neatly arranged on the steel shelves. I consumed a lot of fiction (much to the chagrin of my father), though I also read many books about biology. I distinctly remember reading a book that, amongst other things, shared the amazing tale of the dung beetle and its talents in rolling balls of fecal matter around. It really was pretty amazing. […]
Pingback by intueri: to contemplate | 15 Jul 2007 @ 9:08pm