Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Well Red

Do you recall the news stories that came out every year relating George W. Bush's reading habits? Since he always was battling a perception of not being very bright or curious, it probably was no coincidence that articles came out trumpeting his recent conquests of some Camus work or a book about the history of salt. Many were inclined towards skepticism, openly doubting that he read what it's said he did. It seems now like an injudicious expenditure of outrage in retrospect.

I myself read at a prodigious rate, and got to thinking about Bush's claims after finishing a tome which took me quite some time, as I was not overly aggressive in consuming it all the time. When I was, I found myself hamstrung by a longtime bugaboo. My attention span is not so good, which makes it all the more remarkable that I should have accrued any of the knowledge with which I am credited. I have to work very hard at isolating myself, walling off all distractions. Even then, my mind is a whirlwind of activity. It's like a wild, impatient puppy yanking at its leash in hopes of pursuing whatever brightly colored or shiny thing it has spotted most recently. I find myself reading and re-reading passages of text several times before I've understood a word.

I still manage to get through a good number of books each year, and seldom bail on one once I've begun. Presently I'm working on the works of Mark Twain. I've developed a reputation of a resident authority, but there are plenty of less-trumpeted entries in his bibliography that I have not read yet. That should take up a good number of months, and then there is always the contemporary literature. I hope to squeeze in Stieg Larsson's Millenium trilogy. They say it's very good, and anyway I always try to be aware of prevailing pop culture trends when I can.

I find all of this reading very enriching of course, but I enjoy the feel of conquest that comes with turning the last page in a book. It's a very small accomplishment perhaps, but one which relatively few can claim, it seems to me. I also enjoy knowing that I'm free again to pick another book and try to make some kind of a dent in the great multitude of books I hope to read someday. In truth I sometimes contemplate the enormity of what remains and emit a mildly depressed sigh at the knowledge that I will never even scratch the surface, so short is human life. In any case, I'm relatively young and in good health, giving me hope that I can still get to as much as anyone has.

No comments:

Post a Comment

What say you, netizen?