Issue #4: 'I should... read more'

The novels we can't be bothered with; what experts say about audiobooks; plus, how I got scammed into learning how to read.

Welcome to The Shoulds, now a weekly newsletter coming out every Thursday. Each issue, we discuss a common ‘Should’ we’ve been told around how we should spend our lives. This week’s theme: ‘I should read more’. To get these posts sent directly to your inbox, all you need to do is fill in your email address – subscribe now.

All my life, I’ve been contrary. It’s petty and, well, childish: say someone attempts to guess what I’m going to order at brunch, for instance, some stubborn little troll-demon inside me has to order the opposite. Then it arrives, and I’m not sure if I really did want the blueberry pancakes instead of the salmon avocado stack. By sheer chance, however, this personality flaw o’ mine ended up working wonders for my literary habits…

It was October 1997. My glamorous great aunt Cynthia was visiting. Cynthia was, back then, an NHS nurse at the Royal Liverpool Hospital, but she clearly had leanings towards child psychotherapy, or enjoyed a bit of emotional coercion on the side, because this woman knew exactly how to play me. I was six, at the time, and sat sulking in the corner over something or other, at which point Cynthia – the same badass whom, now I recall, bought my brother and I fake talcum powder cigarettes years later at the Albert Dock – had a stroke of genius. 

dudewithsign

A post shared by Seth (@dudewithsign)

‘I bet you can’t read,’ she said, a beady look in her eye. Placed next to her was The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis, a book my parents had been telling me to read for weeks. No one had yet briefed me on the art of reverse psychology. Nor could I actually see that beady look in my great aunt’s eye; it would be another year until an optician would diagnose my childhood myopia. And so, with the obstinance of a future brunch-goer told she wants a salmon avocado stack instead of blueberry pancakes, I grabbed the tome from her and, reader, that was how I learnt I could read. 

In subsequent years, reading became a refuge: at primary school, if I was struggling with the playground politics du jour, it was to the library I would go. The joint tennis lessons I hated (scared of the ball) were spent cowering on the courtside bench with Harry Potter, while my younger brother mastered his backhand. Reading was a rebellion against bedtimes, undercover with a torch; a place to retreat to on family holidays, as a pale teenager insecure in a swimming costume. Part of me still thinks I cheated my way to a degree from Leeds because it’s in, well, reading books (English Literature).

The novels we feel like we ‘should’ read but never get around to, according to subscribers – including Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables and The Lord of the Rings.

I could check my privilege at this juncture. The privilege of having grown up in a house full of books, in my first (my only) language. Of having had a shrewd great-aunt hanging about. Of not suffering from dyslexia. Of being literate in the first place. But I don’t want to be overly apologetic; I want to be honest. Reading has never seemed like an impressive thing to me, so much so that I can laugh wryly at Jez from Peep Show’s declaration that it is just ‘slow TV’ (because… it sort of is). Or relate to the confidence of authors like Daisy Buchanan (in Emma Gannon’s newsletter, The Hyphen) or Haruki Murakami (in the New York Times) revealing they just ditch the books they’re not enjoying, rather than power through because they ‘should’. 

And I think that is the real privilege; that reading, for me, has always been something I’ve done of my own volition - because I could, rather than because I was expected to. It’s as far from a ‘should’ for me as possible – in that I’ve never felt guilt or shame or even much pride around my reading ability, or whether I do it enough. I’ve gone weeks, maybe months, at a time without picking up a book, and thought nothing of it, then lost myself to an 814-pager as one might a holiday fling. And I don’t doubt that if reading had been forced down my throat like broccoli as a child, then it might not be the same. Or if I’d had the same experience as my outrageously intelligent friend who studied English Literature at Cambridge – I think she even got a first – but couldn’t bring herself to read for pleasure for years afterwards.

Some reasons we feel like we ‘should’ read more

• ‘Reducing screen time’

• ‘You can get information from a lot of places, but reading a book has the greatest social cachet.’

• ‘I feel like I should learn more… reading is a vehicle to achieve that.’

• ‘I judge myself for not being able to concentrate when I’m reading’

• ‘I should read more... if I'm going to make it through all the books I want to read in my lifetime’

• ‘I used to set myself goals on how many books I had to read a month. It became a chore very quickly!’

• ‘Reading more is a sign I’ve made leisure time for myself – and I don’t get enough of that.’

While researching this piece, I tried hard to play devil’s advocate. What if reading is overrated – something we’ve overvalued since the launch of the internet, just because it’s a charming offline alternative that makes you look smart? Given that reading is, above all, intrinsically rewarding, it feels strange how we make it into a social status symbol. I’m reminded of an anecdote the radio presenter Lilah Parsons told me, about feeling impressed by a date who sat waiting for her in a darkly-lit bar with a weighty hardback placed before him. ‘Later, I complimented him and he said, ‘Lilah – that was the cocktail menu!’. 

I also considered Jez’s ‘reading is just slow TV’ philosophy, which I sort of agree with. Arguably, the standard of contemporary television is, on average, much higher – we’re in an age where influencers are awarded publishing deals on the basis of their social media following, meanwhile the advent of streaming services has led to an exciting, diverse Golden Age of television.

We’re experimenting, in this newsletter, with the idea that not all shoulds are bad. And to a degree, I think reading is one of them. Not because it has social cachet, or because we’re speeding towards our deathbeds, but because, as it turns out, there is no alternative. 

Some of the best reasons for reading more

• Reading fiction makes you more empathetic 

• Couples who read together, stay together – there’s a strong link between co-reading and relationship satisfaction

• Bibliotherapy, the practice of reading books that overlap with your own experiences, is a proven complement to other types of therapy (like CBT or medication)

• Being absorbed in a book is an inimitably pleasurable kind of ‘flow state’

In a world where our attention spans are under siege by social media, and our brains are fried by burnout, reading – love or hate it – is a highly counterintuitive activity. We all relate to that Mark, how do you read? bit in Peep Show (I appreciate it’s my second reference in three paragraphs) where Mark teaches Jez how to concentrate on a book. Reading shouldn’t be a stick to beat ourselves with, or something to lord over other people, but something we might fall more deeply in love, or back in love, with in the name of the quiet, intrinsic joy it brings to our lives. I hope these suggestions help.

The Coulds

Alternatives to physical books (& why they still count) 📚

To Kindle or not to Kindle?

I was anti-Kindle for many, many years. Then my parents bought me one for Christmas; and I realised that it saved me from a number of evils, particularly on holiday (book spines melting in the sun; carrying around a few extra kilograms of paper in your suitcase; reading in the dark when your roommate is asleep). In any case, owning a Kindle will help you read more – according to a Pew survey of American reader habits, the average reader of e-books reads 24 books a year, compared to 15 for those who don’t own an e-reader.

In defence of Audible

While I love podcasts during the commute, on a long walk there’s nothing better than an audiobook – I’m currently listening to Maggie O’Farrell’s The Marriage Portrait. If you prefer listening to books to read, the good news, according to a 2016 study by professor of education Beth A Rogowsky, is that both count: Rogowsky found ‘no significant difference in comprehension between reading, listening, or reading and listening simultaneously’ when compared the two experiences.

Blinkist and you’ll miss it

The salient points of most non-fiction books can be condensed into 15 minutes (I’ll admit, begrudgingly, as the author of one). That’s the premise of Blinkist, which provides a text and audio version of bestselling non-fiction books for subscribers. And look, there are all sorts of subtle reasons to read the full thing – but this is also a worthy route to go down. They also appear to be offering a Black Friday sale for annual subscriptions.

Make reading a social activity 🤝

Join a book club

If you thrive on accountability and group encouragement (and most of us do, at least a bit), a book club is the way to go. Start one with friends (or ask around to see if anyone’s already got one), or join a local group – libraries or bookshops tend to host in-house. 

Do a ‘buddy’ read

Less admin than a book club, try agreeing to read a book a month (or equivalent) at the same time as a friend. I also know a married couple who do a monthly ‘book swap’ in order to help understand one another’s interests better, which I’d like to rip off one day, as long as my future husband doesn’t exclusively read sci-fi.

Articles/links 🗞🔗

Can reading make you happier? By Ceridwen Dovey for the New Yorker: A potted history of ‘bibliotherapy’, and its modern application.

Your Brain on Books: 10 Things That Happen to Our Minds When We Read: My favourite in this listicle is point number #3, describing reading as the ‘original VR experience’. Take that, Oculus VR and Meta Quest 2.

How to reframe reading as a form of meditation by Ayesha Dhurue for For The Public Eye: I particularly liked her point about letting go of what ‘new information’ a book might give to you, and resolving ‘books neither add nor subtract from your life’

Reading Insecurity by Katy Waldman for Slate: An essay exploring the notion that we used to be ‘better at reading’, pre-internet: ‘Has the Internet killed thoughtful, prolonged engagement with a text—or are we nostalgic for a reading Eden that never existed?’

By The Book: What Books Does Haruki Murakami Find Disappointing? His Own in The New York Times. By The Book is a weekly feature in which ‘authors and other notable people discuss their lives as readers’. I also enjoyed Swedish writer Fredrik Backman’s account of learning how to read with children and a dog around.

Podcasts 🎙

You’re Booked by Daisy Buchanan: Insatiable author Daisy interviews everyone from Malorie Blackman to Marian Keyes about what’s on their bookshelves.

When it comes to getting into a book, context goes a long way (according to educational psychology). Podcasts themed around a specific book can be a brilliant access point for discovering, or accompanying, new titles.

Book Exploder by Hrishikesh Hirway: Fans of Song Exploder, Hirway’s long-running podcast where discusses the creation of famous songs in granular detail with the artists themselves, will enjoy this mini-series where he goes the same detail with authors, including Little Fires Everywhere’s Celeste Ng.

The Waterstones Podcast: Now in its tenth series, this show from the UK’s biggest bookstore chain offers up interviews with people from the books world – from authors to agents, designers and book fans. Some episodes focus in on individual books (like Brit Bennett’s The Vanishing Half), other episodes cover overarching literary themes like ‘cosy crime’ or historical fiction.

The big announcement 📣📣 that you’ve probably already noticed is I’ve decided to make the Shoulds a once-weekly regular newsletter, out every Thursday (rather than multiple weekly send-outs). Each email will integrate my first-person essays; The Coulds (a themed list of resources & links) and the usual spiel from me at the bottom. In starting this newsletter, I planned for some early experimentation and feedback. With 77% of you preferring a bumper weekly email, and 42% of you voting Thursday as the best day to bring it out, the path ahead was clear, and I’m excited to concentrate all the goodness of The Shoulds into a single Thursday dispatch.

In other news, I’ve been cheating on my usual meditation app, CALM, where I’ve been doing Tamara Levitt’s 10 minute sessions daily for the past year, in favour of new kid on the block Meditopia – which offers significantly more options for your practice (you can even customise the sounds in the background!). Will I be tempted to stray for good? Watch this space – sometimes, as with this newsletter, you’ve got to change it up. I also wanted to share the soundtrack to my past month while I’ve been here in Lisbon (I make a new playlist each month, an eclectic mash-up of new songs I discover and enjoy). If you need an energy boost, may I suggest ‘Mon Amour’, the super upbeat rap-pop I discovered at a local bar (it’s sung in a mixture of Spanish, French, Euskara, Italian, Portuguese and English… I was confused too!).

That’s all from me, until Thursday next week. But I’d love to hear from you in the comments section below, or via email (you can respond directly to this email!). Has this inspired you to get reading more over the weekend, or alternatively helped you feel better about your reading habits? Let me know!

In the meantime, as ever, stay happy, stay curious.

Francesca

p.s. Next week’s theme… ‘I should meditate!’