In my current world, there are two types of books: books that are satisfying and books that are not. Things were not always thus. It has just recently (read: last year or so) come to be. And due to the aforementioned summary I will also say this: there is only one type of sex: that of the satisfying nature. In case there were any questions. Oh and also, I am promiscuous with my books only. Fidelity in marriage (or whatever the appropriate wording is).
1. Hear/read of a new book; anticipation starts
2. Search for the book; mounting anticipation and excitement
3. Obtain said book and begin; experience joy of reading and excitement as the plot unfolds and the characters are revealed
4. Halfway through the book, I am feeling (if it is):
a) Very good — twinge of sadness that it’s already half over, slight wish to prolong the inevitable finishing and yet unable to slow down, still happy, still excited
b) not so good — hope that it will get better, desire to start skimming for the good stuff, annoyance at that thought, determination to see it through (which wins out in 75% of the cases)
c) terrible — I’ve been skimming since the second chapter in the hope of finding something redeeming (in which case I would start the book over and re-read — this rarely happens), at the half-way mark and it’s still no good. I skip whole chapters as I’m skimming, in a hurry to get it over with and be done, (Note: I still take credit for having read the book because I at least can discuss what I don’t like about it and technically I have experienced the book, albeit not as the author intended or would have hoped (that’s the authors fault, y’all; s/he should have written a better book)
5. Five pages from the ending:
a) very good books — well, let’s just say I’m torn between HUGE excitement to know how it ends and a tiny bit of sadness and regret that it’s nearly over (which continues to grow the closer I get to the end)
b) Not so good — at this point I know if the books falls into either a) or c)
c) terrible — I’ve already skipped to the last page and read it thoroughly to see if I missed something profound about the plot (unlikely — but I will plan to talk to J about it, just in case he’s read it and can tell me what really happened and what his opinion is. These days he hasn’t read most of what I’m reading because he’s not interested, which means the book really does stink. It used to be that we were more in sync and a good discussion would ensue.) HUGE regret that I’ve wasted time on this book — I can’t actually remember the last time this happened, Maudie Jane or J can you help me out there?
6. Finish the book, YES! So great, revel in the joy of a good book, pause to relive the highlights, consider re-reading it immediately, flip through it for my favorite parts, mull it over for a few days, consider waking J up to talk about it (even if he hasn’t read the book he is all too happy to hear about it and discuss the topics it has brought up. See why I love this man?!)
Most (the good parts) of this process reminds me of something…wait for it…oh yeah…sex.
So, you can see there would be a problem if most of the books I’m reading lately are not satisfying. I’m accustomed to being satisfied.
I read a good, even great book, and still I feel like it shouldn’t be over yet. I’m left wanting. A little part of me dies (or doesn’t, if you’re still with me) inside. (No, I’m kidding, but it made me laugh to write it).
So. Being me and being married to my own personal book guru, I talked to J. Why am I not satisfied with my books?!! (Yes, I totally wailed. And cried a little bit, too. I’m way too invested in my book experience.) Why am I not happy when I finish a book I enjoyed?!
And thus began the conversation in which we talked about brain candy and reader-involvement and depth and great writing. J’s theory, which I agree with, is that I don’t have to invest much in what I read and I’m only getting out of a book what I’m really putting into it.
True. Even books that leave me devastated and sad, if they are well written, will also make me feel satisfied. Like I accomplished something by reading it or learned something or grew.
Good examples of this are: Blindness –devastatingly beautiful
The Brothers K –same
King Lear
Many of the books I’ve chosen this year give me everything I need to know on a platter. I don’t have to search for anything or stretch within my own experience to relate. I finish a book the same person I was when I started. Entertained? Yes. Satisfied? Not so much.
Admittedly, the stretching and learning/growth is not always what I want. Sometimes it’s too much. When we lived in UT, there was a period when I read Schindler’s List, Angela’s Ashes and The Brothers Karamazov all within a short period of time. By the time I started Crime and Punishment I was overwhelmed. Words were exchanged. There were tears (on my part). A book was thrown. Yes, it’s true — don’t judge me — it was a rough couple of months.
After that, the reading of those types of books has been more interspersed with lighter reading. Then, as my life has seemed more complex, sometimes even hard (okay, don’t laugh, but sometimes my life seems hard. Hey –no laughing), brain candy books is about all I can handle. So really, they do serve an important purpose.
The summer that J and G spent in Idaho is a good example. I missed them and didn’t want the complication of heavy reading. Also, I love reading about Regency England and I love a good romance and I found a whole slew of books by the same author to hold me over until my Sweetie came back to me. For decency’s sake I threw in a couple of Jane Austen’s. That way if anyone asked what I had read lately I could tell them without blushing. Oh, and I love Jane Austen. There’s always that.
Side note. Let me tell you what’s embarrassing: covering your book jacket with a homemade paper-bag book cover. Not to protect the binding but to protect yourself from having to see the cover. Yeah. Not a shining moment in my personal history. Also, I hate when books have pictures of people on the cover. I want to decide what the characters look like — not depend on some book-cover-design-artist (sorry if that’s what you do –but listen to the people, just leave the cover blank excepting the title. If a book is good enough, you don’t need to wow the audience with shiny pictures). If I want to see pictures in a book then I will buy a picture book. End rant.
For awhile, I have been able to content myself with what I consider crossover books: young adult and older-children books. Books that have great stories, are well told, books that don’t just tear your guts out and ask you to examine them. However, being as this is a newer area of focus for me, there is a lot of uncovered ground. And sometimes in the covering of ground, one is likely to step in a cow-pie or two. Or maybe just a puddle.
Actually, that makes it sound like I hate the books I’ve been reading. Not so. This is just the resentment talking.
I have gotten so fully away from those books, as previously mentioned, that I didn’t even know where to start. I mean, Jane Austen only wrote six books, Jane Eyre has no sequel and Blindness can only be seen so many times. I know there are many more classics and master authors out there but, again with the over-whelming-ness of it all. Because the other part of the problem is getting my heart in the right place and my mind aligned to something deeper. I have to be Ready.
Which is J’s cue to step in and say, “Why don’t you try…?” Lovely man. Offering me a novel I can get invested in, think about, discuss and love.
And maybe even take to dinner…
10 comments:
Walk Two Moons is on the way. I love children's books and I have a plethora of titles if you are interested. I completely agree with your synthesis of the reading experience. BTW....Come back, come back, come back!!!
Natalie -yay for a new book! Grace has loved reading the ones you sent with us.
Oops. That last comment was from MissKitti
Kitti, you have such an entertaining writing style and interesting things to say, besides having great hair and being smoking hot. I, too, agree with your take on the reading experience. I always keep my favorite books, like they're family and should have their own rooms.
I feel the same way at the end of a book. I rush through the last few chapters, dying to know how it is going to end, and then, what? Nothing. It's just the end I am left feeling kind of ripped off for all the time I invested. I feel your pain :) But it has never stopped me and I am grateful to Natalie for giving me a new series to start, which is different than what I usually read, but has me hooked already.
I often feel guilty reading my fun books, like I should, as an english teacher wannabe, be reading something a little more thought provoking and by a very old and well known author. Hmm, and then I turn the page and continue reading about the young magician Septimus Heap and am content.
i think i remember that an old famous dude made the connection between reading and sex...and eating, maybe? that each is a longing for death. i forget the details and the dude. was it freud? was it barthes? do you know? does j?
i prefer your take. and i too love reading your blog.
roland barthes. he called the experience of narrative at its best jouissance.
certain texts (he called them "writerly," as opposed to "readerly") require the reader to involve herself in the creation of their meaning. Writerly texts force the reader to participate in the writing of the text and so affect more deeply both the text itself and the reader.
he was partly building on the longstanding link between sex and death — the french expression la petite morte (the little death) is a euphemism for orgasm. hence kitti's clever pun!
Kitti, love this post. I feel you on the reading experience. Especially if I am anticipating a book release and then I rush thorough it in one day, I become really crusty. I have the feeling of "now what do I do with my life". Totally stupid question, because of course I'm going to go get another book.
After finishing a book and then being frumpy that it is over, knowing I can't go back to when I didn't know how it ended and what not, I always tell myself there is another book out there that I will like better. Just like the junkie I am. Damn books, damn them.
I so agree with everyone! Oooh, I like the "la petite morte" thingy-I'll have to tell Ryan about that! So what do you do richard dandelion? How are you so dang smart, and how do you know so much? Inquiring minds want to know.
I love to try new authors, and love to get good recommendations. But there are certain authors that I will read over and over because I know that I almost always love their books.
Oh and I just found a new book "The Runaway Princess" I'll let you know when I finish.
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