I love books, always have. I grew up in a family that made plenty of space for reading, in a home where the TV was not allowed on after the nightly news. Books were a prominent part of our physical landscape, from the shelf of books in our bedrooms to the bookcase in the living room that was filled with history books.
Visits to the Lake Charles Carnegie Library a couple of times a week during the summer were supplemented by gifts from my grandmother, a librarian, of books deaccessioned from the Acadia Parish Library. And each birthday or Christmas included at least one book as a present. The question “What are you reading?” was raised in each phone call from a relative. Books were then, still are, central to how I understand and experience the world.
As a youth, they took me on adventures and exploration. I sailed on voyages aboard clipper ships, Viking ships, sailing warships. I explored the Rockies with the Mountain Men. I was kidnapped by pirates and later by Indians. I learned to raise a raccoon with Rascal and to navigate the Mississippi with Tom Sawyer. I became a 1930s vet in the Yorkshire Dales and rode with Paul Revere as he raised the alarm to the British invasion.
As an adult, books still provide a bookend to my farm life: a few chapters before sunrise and a bit more before sleep. Visiting others, I’ll gravitate to the bookshelf (or, special joy, bookcase), that semi-public form of autobiography, a map of character, if you will, where the knowledge that a friend has a collection of P.G. Wodehouse means he can be relied on in tough times.
Our culture has changed and people do read books less, sometimes not at all. But it is still a wonderful question to ask, one that teaches if we listen to the answer: What are you reading?
………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Reading this weekend: G.K. Chesterton’s biography of William Cobbett
Good question, that: what are you reading? Revealing, too, considering that the reading public is dwindling, replaced by the viewing public. Most are fundamentally unaware what that means, which only illustrates and proves the trend. But since I’m already a scold about so many trends, I’ll save that rant for another day. But I must still lodge my dismay at the number of adults who are chasing the Pokémon Go craze and the rationalizations for doing so, such as getting people off the couch and out in public where they can at least interact with their own kids and grandkids. There is something deeply wrong with our culture when we can’t stir ourselves away from screens and bond over virtual nonsense.
My reading habits have shifted somewhat over time, away from fiction, history, and news toward nonfiction, long-form journalism, and blogs. I discover excellent material written by relative unknowns and overlooked or forgotten authors all the time. My bookcase (not bookshelf!) grows only very slowly, since I borrow from the library far more often than I purchase. The best recent book I read was Matthew Crawford’s The World Beyond Your Head. The book I keep picking up and putting down is Oswald Spengler’s The Decline of the West. Difficult to sink into when my opportunities to sit quietly and concentrate are so limited in harried modern life. The next book in queue is Thomas Frank’s Listen, Liberal: Or, What Ever Happened to the Party of the People?
I also I spend considerable time listening, specifically to classical music. In my view, music culture is equally as important as book culture, and also on the wane — at least with respect to art music (as opposed to popular musics). The value of both reading and listening is a difficult sell these days, as they are different styles of engagement from viewing and require more involvement on the part of the individual. I’m not a relativist in this assessment. No one can be convinced that their preferred media holds less value than others; tastes seek their own focus.
Thanks for the reminder about the Crawford book, I recall you mentioning the new work in a review on your blog. His “Shop Class as Soulcraft” was rewarding, so I’ll hunt up a copy. You mentioned in another post that you play classical piano. Which definitely puts you down as a practitioner of a declining art, those who play a musical instrument. I have a sister who teaches ballet. That surely is a form of cultural engagement further along the road to oblivion than active listening and playing of classical music, I would guess.
Not sure why I mention this, but we had the cider mill out today crushing the apple harvest of a neighbor’s farm. He played his banjo while the press turned. Which, if a game, scores double bonus points on the archaic arts scale.
My piece started with more bile and scorn. But I managed to dilute most of that out by the end. But I do find it painfully sad to ask a niece or nephew this question. All too often the answer is a blank look.
Cheers,
Well, you know my current reading list 🙂
I’m almost finished with ‘Hot Earth Dreams’. The book might become somewhat of a ceterum censeo for me.
Brutus, I’ll soon be reading Spengler’s ‘The Hour Of Decision’ to have his thoughts in a condensed form and avoid having to slog it out with his magnum opus.
And Michael Oakeshott’s ‘Rationalism In Politics’, with a similar topic to Crawford’s.
I’ve ordered a copy of Hot Earth Dreams based on your suggestion. What with the GK Chesterton and now this title, I may have to start censoring your input. Otherwise I may not pick out a title of my own for sometime. 🙂
Shall we talk about music ? Any other parts of your intellectual life you’d like to loose control of?
Just skimmed through a gardening book. Purportedly co-written by a wise old man, but I’m having my doubts whether his “granddaughter” didn’t simply invent him.
I’ve been listening to a lot of Rodney Crowell, Over the Rhine, and Whitehorse.
And By Eulalie, I’ve just read another Wodehouse story because one needs to feel reliably reliable in the beginning Altithermal!
Exactly the purpose Wodehouse should serve in the coming days.
Rodney Crowell, Over the Rhine, and Whitehorse… a fine start, but no Billy Joe White??? A Louisiana Swamp Rocker? Hmmmm, no poke salad for you.
Hmmm, its Tony Joe White, so I guess I’ll have to skip the poke salad this evening too. But for what its worth, even Trolls like Rock n Roll.
Hey, come on, surely I get points for covering Texas, Ohio and Canada in my selection?
Ohio Agricultural Report 1891. The 46th edition of the report. It runs to 523 pages. Within the same volume is the 10th annual report from the Ohio Ag Experiment Station (another couple hundred pages).
But I must confess this isn’t exactly “reading” in the most common sense of the term. For me it seems more like digging about in a treasure trove of historical flotsam and jetsam.
There is a transcript of a speech by then Governor of Ohio William McKinley (soon to be the 25th President of the U.S.) to a convention of farmers.
Table upon table of production data; correspondence from farm groups all across the state; anecdote, testament, and good ol’ fashioned horse trading.
It gives me to believe there is a report from 1845… a full 16 years before the outbreak of hostilities between the North and South. I’m certain I can look up a copy in Columbus, but I’m wondering how long I’ll need to haunt the used book shops here about to come across the first report like I did this particular volume.
Hmm, I’ll check my copy of Ohio Author’s and their books. 🙂 Seriously, Clem, I love finding these agricultural reports and addresses. They are such a great window on a literate world. Seemingly the abilities of the average mid-western farmer a century ago surpassed the average college graduate today.
I’d encourage you when you attend the next ABRC this fall to bring not only your bribe but this copy of his address as exhibit “A”. It just might sway the committee.
Until then I’ll have to publish a photo and a extract a few bits and pieces for a post at GP.
What I could really use is a bit of advice from a life long book person about what I might do to keep this old girl from showing her age. She’s a hardbound volume of some heft and being over a hundred and twenty years old hasn’t helped her figure much.
Short of rebinding, which is an option, there are a few things you can do. Handle and open with care. Typically you will want to place the spine on the table and open carefully to avoid stress on the hinges. Don’t open to the completely flat position, use another book to support the weight. This reduces the stress on the hinge.
I have a couple of volumes of American State Papers from around 1840. They contain information on our family in Louisiana. I try and limit how often I pull them out. When I do look at them I’ll take advantage of the opportunity to use a book oil on the leather bindings to keep them supple. And I store them in a flat box to protect them from light. A closet shelf is a good place for fragile books. But temperature and humidity are always enemies of books. Both of which we seem to have in abundance.
I’m wading through “A History of the English-Speaking Peoples” by Churchill at the moment. In particular, I’m paying attention to his exceptional ability to covey an idea without inserting cumbersome adjectives.
How do you deal with family members who don’t read? Both my “children” are now in their 40s; one reads, the other doesn’t. Only one of my 5 grandchildren reads. I give them books at every opportunity to no avail. How can one possible convey what they are missing?
I’m glad you mention Churchill. Hooray for clear writing!
Not all of my siblings turned out to be readers. That is just the way it turns out. However, I do feel strongly that the 20th century may have been the exception in popular literacy. Let’s call it peak literacy. And I’m afraid we are on the downward slope.
Aside from the funniest foreword ever, Galbraith’s ‘The Great Crash 1929’ has a passage on Churchill actually sitting on the balcony of the New York Stock Exchange on that fateful day and having to think about how much his clear thinking in nudging the Americans towards abandoning the gold standard had to do with what was happening.
A dying art, certainly in my generation (I have all of 30 years under my belt). I remember distinctly gravitating to your bookcase the first time I was in your home, Brian. All kinds of fascinating reads. And it is a habit to peruse the shelves of each house into which I am invited. I am always proud when people look through my library to get a better feel for the human owner.
I am glad to know there are at least still some bastions of literacy though. At the CrossFit gym I own we started a book that is going strong 5 years later. We actually met last Thursday to discuss Sapiens by Harari, an expansive tome on the history of humans, specifically sapiens, and our fictions or mythologies that we create to better cooperate. From religion in its many forms to capitalism to romanticism to 1776’s Declaration of Independence, he explains how each is pure mythology created to help the species cooperate. Lots in there about biology, ecology, culture, and mythologies. One of the best books I have read in some time.
Some other notables of late would be The Humanist Anthology, How Adam Smith Can Change Your Life, The Man-Eaters of Tsavo, and Field Notes from a Catastrophe.
And I am afraid that my habit of purchasing books for non-reading friends in hopes I can turn them into readers has been broken after much gift giving and subsequent non-readings of Wodehouse.
Grant,
Good to hear from you. Glad the CrossFit crowd has a book club. Cool! Five years is pretty impressive to keep a book club going. I think our farmer discussion group is going on four. But I’m not sure it will make it to five.
I like the diversity of your offerings, keeps the brain nimble. Which come to think about it is a nice balance for what you do each day.
Hey, let’s plan on you coming out on a Friday or Saturday evening when you return the cooler. That way you can stay for dinner and conversation. Let me know what works for you. Feel free to bring your wife or friends.
My best,
Mmmh, Whitehorse seems to be expanding the VeganHomeRecordingYoutubeMusic genre, like Pomplamoose.
Today I’m listening to 2016 Lee Konitz (don’t really like the old, but like him old), The Redneck Manifesto, volksmusik and Kinky Friedman (like him old, too, so long as that new Kinkstah novel gets written).