reading!
i thought about reading today.
at lunchtime, i sat and ate my sandwich and thought about reading.
at the time, i was looking at a "reading" in Harper's Magazine. it was in memory of the author David Foster Wallace, a collection of remarks given at his memorial service. since his death a few months ago, i've read quite a few pieces about him and his work, written by authors and others i admire. they are full of sadness and veneration, about him personally and his body of work.
i've tried to read his most-often-mentioned book, Infinite Jest, twice. for a long time, i dismissed him for clearly very superficial reasons. too many people thought he was too much of a genius. and there was this one guy i went to college with, and loathed, who really liked DFW. he based his honors project on Brief Interviews with Hideous Men. he was the kind of college guy who wanted to be cool via all of the right bands, t-shirts and all of the right books. at least that's how i saw him. he also had this weird, keen interest in one of my best friends. not a good combination.
so admittedly, DFW hardly had a chance. or at least Infinite Jest didn't. i've read a couple of his other books and writings found in the random magazine or on random websites. and i've liked them. i will even go so far as to say i enjoy reading his work. but the 981-page-behemoth just couldn't reel me in - i couldn't get over the reputation of the author, i found the book inaccessible, it's really heavy and cumbersome to carry around, etc...but after reading yet another piece about how important and good this book should be, i'm curious again.
which led me to more general thoughts about my reading habits. i really like to read. i love indulging in a really good book, sitting in a comfortable spot for hours engrossed in a story. i like finding new authors and new writing styles, and i even spend a fair amount of time reading pieces by authors about writing or analyses of books.
but i haven't been reading lately. i've borrowed two books in which i haven't made it past page twenty or so. my sunday morning ritual of a hot cup of black coffee and a book and a bathtub has fallen by the wayside. i'm not proud to say it, but i watch more crappy television than i read. and when i say crappy, i really mean crappy. has anyone watched the show still standing? yikes. for every episode i've seen of that show, i should be giving all of my favorite authors ten dollars.
not to say i should be reading instead of watching television always. but i would definitely benefit by reading more. i've found myself unhappy with my 8/9o'clock bedtime because there are tv shows coming on that i would like to watch. this makes for less sleep and more zombie-like participation in my day-to-day life.
but i can read anytime!
i don't know if this is interesting to anyone but myself. but it opens up a whole slew of questions about what i find important in my life, what my priorities are, what i consider my interests to be, all ending with the bigger question - is this how i want it to be?
at lunchtime, i sat and ate my sandwich and thought about reading.
at the time, i was looking at a "reading" in Harper's Magazine. it was in memory of the author David Foster Wallace, a collection of remarks given at his memorial service. since his death a few months ago, i've read quite a few pieces about him and his work, written by authors and others i admire. they are full of sadness and veneration, about him personally and his body of work.
i've tried to read his most-often-mentioned book, Infinite Jest, twice. for a long time, i dismissed him for clearly very superficial reasons. too many people thought he was too much of a genius. and there was this one guy i went to college with, and loathed, who really liked DFW. he based his honors project on Brief Interviews with Hideous Men. he was the kind of college guy who wanted to be cool via all of the right bands, t-shirts and all of the right books. at least that's how i saw him. he also had this weird, keen interest in one of my best friends. not a good combination.
so admittedly, DFW hardly had a chance. or at least Infinite Jest didn't. i've read a couple of his other books and writings found in the random magazine or on random websites. and i've liked them. i will even go so far as to say i enjoy reading his work. but the 981-page-behemoth just couldn't reel me in - i couldn't get over the reputation of the author, i found the book inaccessible, it's really heavy and cumbersome to carry around, etc...but after reading yet another piece about how important and good this book should be, i'm curious again.
which led me to more general thoughts about my reading habits. i really like to read. i love indulging in a really good book, sitting in a comfortable spot for hours engrossed in a story. i like finding new authors and new writing styles, and i even spend a fair amount of time reading pieces by authors about writing or analyses of books.
but i haven't been reading lately. i've borrowed two books in which i haven't made it past page twenty or so. my sunday morning ritual of a hot cup of black coffee and a book and a bathtub has fallen by the wayside. i'm not proud to say it, but i watch more crappy television than i read. and when i say crappy, i really mean crappy. has anyone watched the show still standing? yikes. for every episode i've seen of that show, i should be giving all of my favorite authors ten dollars.
not to say i should be reading instead of watching television always. but i would definitely benefit by reading more. i've found myself unhappy with my 8/9o'clock bedtime because there are tv shows coming on that i would like to watch. this makes for less sleep and more zombie-like participation in my day-to-day life.
but i can read anytime!
i don't know if this is interesting to anyone but myself. but it opens up a whole slew of questions about what i find important in my life, what my priorities are, what i consider my interests to be, all ending with the bigger question - is this how i want it to be?
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