05.22.05
Posted in life at 8:55 pm by
Over on their blog, Kristen and Micah McCarty have an interesting discussion going about reading style. I started making a comment there…but it sorta took off into its own post. So, here is the aforementioned post:
Truth be told–and this may suprise some, or confirm long held suspicions–I don’t read much. I love it when I do read, but it takes me a lot more time and energy than the average soul to march through a book.
I’m always a little ashamed to tell this bit of truth about myself. I’m afraid people will think I’m stupid, because it’s hard for me to read. Now, I’m not saying I’m illiterate or anything–I’ve just always had a problem following the words in a line. My eyes tend to bounce around (I did therapy when I was little–and the problem improved dramatically but I still suffer a bit.) Thus, it takes great time and energy for me to trudge through a novel. It’s pretty rare for me to be able to read a book without a headsplitting ache in my forehead that sets in after about 3 or 4 pages.
I’ve learned to compensate, of course. A healthy dose of common sense can get you a long way in a discussion about a fine work of literature. I suppose, though, we all have our disadvantages…this is simply mine. I mean, if I was seriously that academically disadvantaged I probably wouldn’t have made it through a Philosophy minor at Calvin without doing one single solitary reading–please nobody tell my profs.
Which I mention, I guess, because I think all of you serial readers out there need to be reminded the spectacular gift you’ve been given. It’s a wonderful gift to be able to pay attention to a novel long enough to work your way through. They always tell me that a book is so much better than a movie–I suppose I’ll only ever be able to tell on rare occurances.
So when in comments y’all reference great works of philosophy or literature, please don’t be offended when I don’t respond directly to your comment. That’s just me doing my best–and well practiced–act to make people think that I actually am smart, or well read, or whatever.
Of course, whilest many of you don’t have the same affliction as I, I would dare bet a reasonable wager that some one reading this is faking it. Hoping beyond hope that their little secret–of inadequacy–doesn’t see the light of day. Wishing that they would just be able to slide under the radar, dreaming that their imperfections would be impervious to detection. If that’s you–and to a degree I expect it’s all of you–welcome to the journey.
Congrats. You’re inadequate. You’re a faker.
And, frankly, I think you’re alright. After all, you’re in damn good company:
32They went to a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” 33He took Peter, James and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. 34″My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,” he said to them. “Stay here and keep watch.”
35Going a little farther, he fell to the ground and prayed that if possible the hour might pass from him. 36″Abba,[e] Father,” he said, “everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.”
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Posted in life at 8:55 pm by
Over on their blog, Kristen and Micah McCarty have an interesting discussion going about reading style. I started making a comment there…but it sorta took off into its own post. So, here is the aforementioned post:
Truth be told–and this may suprise some, or confirm long held suspicions–I don’t read much. I love it when I do read, but it takes me a lot more time and energy than the average soul to march through a book.
I’m always a little ashamed to tell this bit of truth about myself. I’m afraid people will think I’m stupid, because it’s hard for me to read. Now, I’m not saying I’m illiterate or anything–I’ve just always had a problem following the words in a line. My eyes tend to bounce around (I did therapy when I was little–and the problem improved dramatically but I still suffer a bit.) Thus, it takes great time and energy for me to trudge through a novel. It’s pretty rare for me to be able to read a book without a headsplitting ache in my forehead that sets in after about 3 or 4 pages.
I’ve learned to compensate, of course. A healthy dose of common sense can get you a long way in a discussion about a fine work of literature. I suppose, though, we all have our disadvantages…this is simply mine. I mean, if I was seriously that academically disadvantaged I probably wouldn’t have made it through a Philosophy minor at Calvin without doing one single solitary reading–please nobody tell my profs.
Which I mention, I guess, because I think all of you serial readers out there need to be reminded the spectacular gift you’ve been given. It’s a wonderful gift to be able to pay attention to a novel long enough to work your way through. They always tell me that a book is so much better than a movie–I suppose I’ll only ever be able to tell on rare occurances.
So when in comments y’all reference great works of philosophy or literature, please don’t be offended when I don’t respond directly to your comment. That’s just me doing my best–and well practiced–act to make people think that I actually am smart, or well read, or whatever.
Of course, whilest many of you don’t have the same affliction as I, I would dare bet a reasonable wager that some one reading this is faking it. Hoping beyond hope that their little secret–of inadequacy–doesn’t see the light of day. Wishing that they would just be able to slide under the radar, dreaming that their imperfections would be impervious to detection. If that’s you–and to a degree I expect it’s all of you–welcome to the journey.
Congrats. You’re inadequate. You’re a faker.
And, frankly, I think you’re alright. After all, you’re in damn good company:
32They went to a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” 33He took Peter, James and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. 34″My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,” he said to them. “Stay here and keep watch.”
35Going a little farther, he fell to the ground and prayed that if possible the hour might pass from him. 36″Abba,[e] Father,” he said, “everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.”
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Jim said,
May 23, 2005 at 7:32 am
“Which I mention, I guess, because I think all of you serial readers out there need to be reminded the spectacular gift you’ve been given. It’s a wonderful gift to be able to pay attention to a novel long enough to work your way through.”
You’re right. It is a gift, and one we tend to take for granted, like sight. Thank you for the reminder. I have often wondered what I would do if I couldn’t read for whatever reason–losing my sight, or something else. I suppose it could happen to any of us at anytime and so I treasure it while I have it.
I hate when people get snobby about books vs. movies — I could name three or four movies off the top of my head that simply put the books that inspired them to shame.
Finally, you may not read many words, but you have certainly proved yourself capable of stringing them together to form excellent sentences.
Kyle said,
May 24, 2005 at 4:39 am
The book v. movie argument is also so often founded upon a lack of recognition of category differences. The means of production are very different (including that film has a much larger number of creative voices contributing), the pacing is by necessity different (and much more stringent in film), the communicative media are quite different. I shouldn’t be, but I’m amazed when people continually claim a book is vastly superior to a movie when they couldn’t tell me in any detail the first thing about what the movie did visually (lighting, sets, costumes, shot selection, camera angles, slow motion, cutting, etc.) and only notice what the movie “left out”; I’m an English grad student and so basically read for a living, but I recognize that movies need to be analyzed and judged as works of art on their own terms. I’m not even sure exactly what it would mean for a book to be “better” than a movie because they are such thoroughly different things and therefore are hard to compare in any meaningful sense.
Adam said,
May 26, 2005 at 3:36 pm
Brandon,
I read this post about 5 minutes after I wrote my most recent post. It was a bit strange.