The Loneliness of Reading

[Lumiere]

Perhaps some of you folks surround yourself with other literature-loving friends, and so you avoid this problem to a large extent. But speaking for myself, and no doubt for some of you as well, I have no such friends. In fact, many of my friends say that books can no longer captivate their attention at all and they refrain from reading whenever possible. Well, I can understand that because I am completely uninterested in many of the things they choose to spend time doing. To each their own!

But there is a certain loneliness that a reader experiences, (and I think this is something that all readers can identify with, but especially if you know virtually no one who shares your love of books.) This loneliness is especially strong when in relation to those books that you love, and it's the reason why forums like this exist, I think. It's the isolated feeling of having experienced something wonderful and wanting to share it with another but being unable to do so. I suppose there are a lot of areas of life that would provoke this feeling, but something that is continually frustrating to me is when I am reading an amazing book. It makes me think in new ways; it transports me from the mundaneness of daily life to a separate reality for a half-hour; it thrills me: makes me laugh, sometimes cry. It's a significant part of my life, but I have to refrain from talking about it to my friends. For those of you who have such friends, when you do try to express your experience when reading a book, perhaps you are unable to do so completely. Even two people reading the same books have entirely different experiences with that book.

Basically what I am getting at is this: reading books is a solitary pleasure. Do you think this is a good thing or a bad thing? Does this frustrate you or are you grateful for this?

[dfloyd]

is true. Those who read are never alone. You should feel lucky you have the intelligence to read and comport yourself to many different places and eras. Those of your friends who do not read perhaps cannot read. They may be able to do rudimentary reading, but they cannot read and absorb the great classics of literature.If you are able to do so, count yourself as lucky and quit worrying about other people. These people you refer to are one dimesional and do not have your abilities.

[Lumiere]

Hmmm, your reply made me think of something else:

The great thing about reading a book, (in this case especially a classic), is that thousands before you have enjoyed it. Even if no one you know personally appreciates reading, literature has spoken to people from every generation and in every situation imaginable. And your right, it is an amazing gift, reading. Humans need stories in their life, whether that need is satisfied through movies, television, books, or other means. But there's something about a shared story experience that enhances it. It's like watching a funny movie alone. It just needs to be shared. All this being said, there is something intangibly beautiful about the isolation of reading.

[Pryderi Agni]

Wow, what an intelligently discussed topic!

Yes, reading is inherently a loner's hobby of choice. But as for me, I feel really blessed to have people around me (excluding you guys; you're my permanent support structure) who are really receptive to my descriptions of books that I've read.

My family's discussions are usually intellectually charged (and raucous!). My friends at college also take interest in the fact that I read a lot of books and indulge me when I rant.

That said, I do subscribe to the 'intangibly beautiful' theory forwarded by Lumiere. It's an aristocracy of knowledge, a theocracy of intelligence; there is no joy that compares to reading a book alone, feeding your brain with all that intelligence--which is just about the best edge you can give yourself.

[Dirtbag]

I feel less alone when I'm reading. I'm physically by myself most of the time so naturally I don't interact with a lot of people. Anyway, reading allows me to experience someone else's thoughts and to form new ones as an outcome of the experience. It's comforting to connect with someone's ideas especially when they're ones that can be presently applied to your own life. I think I may be straying off the point though. I don't mind not having anyone I know reading the books I do... it probably wouldn't change anything if they did read them. It's a personal experience and I recommend books because I think others would enjoy them and not because I want to discuss or critique them. Like a good song, I share it for the feelings it creates.

[Helga]

I'm not a real people person, I prefer to be at home reading, alone. but I understand what you mean, no one around me reads as much as I do and those who do read only like thrillers and stuff like that, the only kind of books I hardly ever read.

but that is why I love lit-net, no matter what book you mention someone has read it and is willing to chat. and I even prefer to only read the conversations not participate at times.

I also agree with one statement above that you should just feel lucky that you have the intellect to enjoy reading alone.

[Lokasenna]

What a curious topic!

I would, in some part, attribute my love of reading to a fairly lonely childhood: being an only child with parents who worked 10 hours a day, seven days a week. Also, my school was very far from where I lived, so basically all my friends lived too far away for post-school interactions... reading a book was frequently all I had to do with myself.

That said, all my friends are prolific readers too, and I find nothing more pleasurable than talking to them about it - reading is a social activity as well! And I have to say that I find it vaguely depressing when people declare that they don't read; I usually keep quiet, but a part of me wants to start recommending books to them!

[Veva]

Yes, indeed, reading a book is solitary, but I wouldn't classify it as a negative feature. Most of the day I am surrounded by people I don't really want to talk to, plus at campus or at work, I have to deal with problems and when I get back to my flat, I just feel like yelling at everyone.... so a good book is a blessing.

[kasie]

Lumiere - don't stop talking to your non-reading friends about books. When I was in college, I was in lodgings with sixteen other students - yes, it was an hotel taken over for term-time by the college! - and I was the only one reading English there, there were Maths, Biology, Art, Music, PE, French, History and Geography students lodged there: the only things we had in common were our age, eighteen to twenty, and our surnames fell between R and W in the alphabet. We talked about everything under the sun and at some stage someone would ask 'OK, what are you reading this term? Lawrence? Joyce? The Revenge Tragedies - what? Tennyson? Updike, Bellow, Roth, Malamud - er, who??' And my enthusiasm became contagious - certain people asked to borrow books after I had finished with them (ie written the essay required) - one friend even asked if she could take a book home in the vacation because she thought her father would like it as much as she had. He did and even worked out what my essay subject had been from the passages marked in the text.

Who knows? Maybe your enthusiasm and the obvious pleasure you get from your reading will pique the interest in one of your friends and a new reader will join the ranks, thanks to you. Don't be precious or exclusive about your passion, obviously, but delight and surprise at discovery is catching and before long sheer curiosity may well drive your non-reading friends to wonder what it is about this reading business that so fires you - and before they know it, they are caught for life.

[mal4mac]

Lumiere - don't stop talking to your non-reading friends about books. When I was in college, I was in lodgings with sixteen other students - yes, it was an hotel taken over for term-time by the college! - and I was the only one reading English there, there were Maths, Biology, Art, Music, PE, French, History and Geography students lodged there: the only things we had in common were our age, eighteen to twenty, and our surnames fell between R and W in the alphabet. We talked about everything under the sun and at some stage someone would ask 'OK, what are you reading this term? Lawrence? Joyce? The Revenge Tragedies - what? Tennyson? Updike, Bellow, Roth, Malamud - er, who??' And my enthusiasm became contagious - certain people asked to borrow books after I had finished with them (ie written the essay required) - one friend even asked if she could take a book home in the vacation because she thought her father would like it as much as she had. He did and even worked out what my essay subject had been from the passages marked in the text.

Who knows? Maybe your enthusiasm and the obvious pleasure you get from your reading will pique the interest in one of your friends and a new reader will join the ranks, thanks to you. Don't be precious or exclusive about your passion, obviously, but delight and surprise at discovery is catching and before long sheer curiosity may well drive your non-reading friends to wonder what it is about this reading business that so fires you - and before they know it, they are caught for life.

Glancing at your profile I'm guessing you went to Oxford, so all your friends were likely to have a *serious and rounded* interest in matters intellectual. Although your infectious enthusiasm is to be applauded, you had a captive audience that few others will find. I went to a slightly less prestigious university and hoped to have many of these kinds of discussions -- but they were thin on the ground. Now, outside university, they are not to be found at all -- except on the web.

[Red-Headed]

'A blessed companion is a book, - a book that, fitly chosen, is a lifelong friend,... a book that, at a touch, pours its heart into our own.'

~ Douglas Jerrold

[LitNetIsGreat]

Glancing at your profile I'm guessing you went to Oxford, so all your friends were likely to have a *serious and rounded* interest in matters intellectual. Although your infectious enthusiasm is to be applauded, you had a captive audience that few others will find. I went to a slightly less prestigious university and hoped to have many of these kinds of discussions -- but they were thin on the ground. Now, outside university, they are not to be found at all -- except on the web.

Yes I think you have a good point. Unfortunately with being a mature student and studying part-time you tend to miss out on the collective experience. Not only is face-to-face discussion fun and engaging, it is also a massive benefit to your learning experience. The opportunity to be able to bounce ideas from each other is a valuable thing. It is also an advantage to have people around who are studying different subjects - let's face it there is a great deal of over-lapping at university level and to have someone around studying a different discipline in-depth can be very handy at times. I've had an odd university experience, yes I know a few full-timers and post graduates, as well as other mature students, but I can't shake of the feeling that I've missed out on a lot.

Of course it is not just a matter to those who are studying literature. At times it can be a little frustrating when few people around you read, and your efforts to enthuse settle on deaf and unwilling ears.

[stlukesguild]

My degree is in art and my career is in teaching and in these two fields I have plenty with whom to talk about art and teaching... and even music (considering that most of my artist friends are also quite knowledgeable and passionate about classical music and jazz (in one instance). Books are something else all together. Most of my family rarely ever read. My co-workers largely read popular fiction and biographies, if anything. My artist friends do read some quality literature and we can sometimes talk about a single book or writer... but their reading is in no way as obsessive as mine and it is near impossible to get into an in-depth discussion about William Blake, Baudelaire, Proust, or Kafka... let alone J.L. Borges, Italo Calvino, Walter Pater, or Lawrence Sterne. This is the primary reason I return to such a forum as Lit Net. If not for such a venue I would probably need to sign up for a college course or seek out a quality book discussion group as a way to share my passion for reading. The actual process of reading may certainly be solitary... and in a world in which i-pods and blaring music, and cell phones, and TV screens are ever-present... less people have a moment to themselves without external stimuli and actual learn how to think... reading in public can surely make you seem like a weirdo. Still, I don't find the actual process of reading to be lonely. I am communicating continually with other minds. The "loneliness" comes after the fact when I am excited about something I have just read I wish to share my experience with others... and no one's listening.

[Lumiere]

Still, I don't find the actual process of reading to be lonely. I am communicating continually with other minds. The "loneliness" comes after the fact when I am excited about something I have just read I wish to share my experience with others... and no one's listening.

YES! You've articulated what I apparently failed to. When I'm actually engaged in the act of reading, I don't experience any loneliness. In fact, it's quite the contrary. But I can't tell you how many times I'll read one of those passages or sentences that makes you stop, smile/frown/nod/ect, re-read, repeat throughout a good book. Of course, my natural response is "Wow, that was amazing! Look at that! I have to tell someone!" But I usually don't tell anyone, unless there happens to be someone in the near vicinity that would actually care. I have the same dilemma with quality films. Everybody watches movies, but most people aren't well acquainted with the classics of film. The other day I couldn't help myself and actually blurted out to a friend, "I know you don't care, but I watched Incubus today and it was awesome. It's from 1965 and entirely in Esperanto, and the filming style is really......"

I think part of the reason I miss this interaction is because last year I was in a great literature class in which we would all be reading the same book, and basically every class period we simply formed a circle and discussed what we had read for an hour and a half. The cool thing about that class, was that it wasn't solely composed of literature junkies. I watched people who had no previous interest in books become captivated by the art form. That being said, I don't think literature is necessarily for everyone today. Books are for everyone, but not literature, and that's perfectly OK. To each their own.

[JBI]

My degree is in art and my career is in teaching and in these two fields I have plenty with whom to talk about art and teaching... and even music (considering that most of my artist friends are also quite knowledgeable and passionate about classical music and jazz (in one instance). Books are something else all together. Most of my family rarely ever read. My co-workers largely read popular fiction and biographies, if anything. My artist friends do read some quality literature and we can sometimes talk about a single book or writer... but their reading is in no way as obsessive as mine and it is near impossible to get into an in-depth discussion about William Blake, Baudelaire, Proust, or Kafka... let alone J.L. Borges, Italo Calvino, Walter Pater, or Lawrence Sterne. This is the primary reason I return to such a forum as Lit Net. If not for such a venue I would probably need to sign up for a college course or seek out a quality book discussion group as a way to share my passion for reading. The actual process of reading may certainly be solitary... and in a world in which i-pods and blaring music, and cell phones, and TV screens are ever-present... less people have a moment to themselves without external stimuli and actual learn how to think... reading in public can surely make you seem like a weirdo. Still, I don't find the actual process of reading to be lonely. I am communicating continually with other minds. The "loneliness" comes after the fact when I am excited about something I have just read I wish to share my experience with others... and no one's listening.

I don't know - reading seems a personal thing anyway - literary culture, if it ever existed in the US in the sense that you seem to imagine it (it surely didn't in Canada), is long dead. Then again, humanism has been out here for quite a while, and there are too many books to begin discussing anyway. My question is, was it ever here to begin with?

I can see a sort of intensively literary culture elsewhere - China, for instance, put the writing of improvisational poems and prose on its Exam system in the 7th century, which essentially created a whole middle-class of literary people, writing occasion poems whenever events happened, and such, but in the West? Well, perhaps the fame of Byron and Longfellow say something - but I am unsure if people actually discussed them - the nature of English writing in particular doesn't have the same sort of educational necessity as other languages, like Latin do.

For instance, Latin was, for centuries upon centuries a literary style, as much as language. People study the forms, and learn to emulate them - with that, what Erasmus called "Abundant form" emerged as a communication between people - letters, speeches, books, conversations even all were bent toward classical models, and as such, for the classics, time didn't effect them as it does today.

The same could be said of China, Japan, and, for a long time, India. China and Japan are perhaps more interesting, in that the language was able to evolve with the literary language, without the meanings being altered as much as lets say, vernaculars or Latin even. The religious nature of many Indic texts also created a situation where Sanskrit seems to have held a place similar to Latin in Europe.

But what becomes of things when people write in the idiom of the moment, and at such a rate. Benedict Anderson, for instance, argues that our sense of nation evolved out of printed forms, and each person reading the same things, notably newspapers and serialized novels - but now, are people reading the same things? Is there a shared literary heritage.

In point of fact, I personally don't consider myself Western. I am Canadian, and know much about that tradition, but who else does, even here? I am inclined to poetry more than prose, another idiosyncrasy against me. And then there is the "what exactly am I reading" that goes with that.

Take these boards for example - about 100 or so texts seem to float around as general knowledge reading - Shakespeare, Dostoevsky, Fitzgerald, Orwell, Austen, Borges, the Brontes, and a few others - much of the discussion would seem built around those texts as examples - those function, it would seem, as the shared interest zone of the board. Beyond that their are niches, for instance, the poetry board itself seems a niche, the Twilight thread, and so on - And even then, there are personal niches.

St. Lukes, you for instance seem inclined toward Spanish language materials, and a little bit of German. Drkshadow would seem inclined toward speculative fiction, Mortalterror toward classical writing, and Neely toward predominantly English Classics. I myself, I confess, have a somewhat eccentric taste - but where is the connection there?

In the end, the examples used seem to be the same 100 or so texts that float around everywhere - the same conversation on Joyce is repeated over and over again; Borges pops his head up every now and then, and so forth. The actual connection is rather minimal, as everybody is off in their own solitary world of reading - as Woolf put it, the joy is increased when you know people who read the same books, but how many people here are actually reading the same books? And even then, when a new book is introduced, even if it is good, unless people have really already had it pedestaled for them by Harold Bloom or whomever, the suggestion is essentially laughed at, even if people vote it in for the Book Club readings.



Lets say, for instance, I were to here start a discussion on T. S. Eliot - I could probably guess, unless we were discussing Prufrock, which most people read in high school, how many people would post, and their names, and I could probably guess how long the thread would go on for. Even if people are reading the same story, when it comes down to close reading, there is still another division, that of interpretation. Again another divide occurs as cause, without an answer. The joke is, when understanding things, everyone again uses comparison to indicate how they are interpreting - so again other sources are pulled in that only some people know, or that nobody but the poster or speaker knows, and another division occurs.


The whole concept of sharing literature seems problematic for prose, to me at least, especially. I can share a poem pretty easily - especially if I am sharing poems I am grabbing from Chinese or Japanese or even French, which seem to be rather short, so anybody can read them quickly. When you get to novels, you hit a wall essentially. 300 pages is for me 3-5 hours, for others perhaps longer, and, quite simply, I am backlogged to the point where I don't even do my own pleasure reading anymore. How am I to run around and read everything people mention?


Poetry to me seems the only tradition that right now can actually work - but alas, the pile of good stuff being written isn't being sifted fast enough. Elizabeth Alexander makes a super-public reading, and she assumes the shelf at the general bookstore, conquering all the other third rates, and pushing Angelou and Giovanni over slightly to make room. Where is the place for others though - poetry to me seems now limited to people who are connected somehow, through periodicals, universities, or perhaps the internet, and get their texts in that way - the better the periodical, probably, the better the poetry somebody will be exposed to - quality reviews again are hard to find, especially for free or in mass number. It's all so messy.


Now I just find myself running along the shelves of the Academic bookstore near campus (not a pop-fiction book in site ) and writing down everything that seems a little bit interesting - but even that is futile - the store is only so big, and a great deal of it is already full with the Penguins and Oxford World Classics, and other already established books.


Who knows what becomes of this - literature itself is becoming more and more a niche discipline - poetry is resisting somewhat, but only slightly, and only because of the difficulty of making money as a poet. I sincerely doubt that coherency will remain for long, especially now that the world of poetry is essentially bursting. The amount of translation being done from countries outside of Western Europe is surely shaking things, but also the vast amount of great stuff being written shakes things. Even reading poetry is changing, to the point where Frye's Great Code is essentially useless, and one seems to need to train themselves how to read every poet. The emergence of the anthology as the dominant form (my hypothesis) seems to make each book into its own kind of puzzle, where the reader needs to rethink poetry as a whole, and its conventions every time they finish a text.



I see the desire for interaction, but, in terms of "literary reading", unless you are reading classics, and by that I mean cliché classics, chiefly in English if you are in an English speaking country, you probably aren't going to be discussing anything with very many people. And even then, your genre selection is limited - poetry is a no-go, novels or nothing. Quite simply, Victorian fiction is fun and all, but it isn't all that. Hardy was a great novelist, but his poetry is even better.