Reading can be, if you’re lucky, an intuitive thing to do once you know how, offering an enjoyable private pleasure that opens you up to the world. Learning how to read when you already feel like you know how to read can, by contrast, feel like quite hard work.
With the PhD I’m getting to do lots of reading but it feels like I’m having to learn, or re-learn, how to read. I’ve long been an avid reader, as a child I would devour books. I’d go to the library on a Saturday morning and take out the maximum complement of eight books. They would usually all be read by the end of the weekend, often the end of Saturday. One year in school we had to write a book report for every book we read that year – I read over 100. As an adult, reading books was still a big part of what I enjoyed doing, even as I wasn’t reading many books in a year for quite a long time. Years ago I decided to set myself a challenge to read 52 books in a year – at that stage I was reading less than 20 a year. It took a few years to reach the target but having the target did encourage me to try harder and explore different ways to make time to read. The more I read the more I found it easier to find time to read as it once again became more normal and part of day to day life.
It’s a very intimate thing to spend time with a book. For both fiction and non-fiction it’s about allowing the author and their world and characters into your head and you into theirs. A way to become more connected to the world, to understand other people and yourself, exploring connections and perspectives. ‘If on a winter’s night a traveller’ by Italo Calvino takes the idea of reading and explores how it can connect us to the world. In lots of ways reading can be a solitary experience and he explores the enjoyment to be had in the rituals and anticipation of the pleasure to be found in a book, as well as the unexpected journeys books can take us on.
In work world, I was used to reading lots, or probably more accurately, scan reading lots on speedy journeys through lots of material. My undergraduate degree was in Law, so I was accustomed to being able to scan through large amounts of often complicated content to find the salient parts. In jobs I was used to doing the same, often whilst also being in, or Chairing a meeting, so my attention was very divided. Not a leisurely journey but just trying to navigate quickly through the environment and understand where there might be opportunities or lurking tricky situations.
I’ve always felt comfortable in my ability to read things quickly and extract some key points, albeit have long been aware of, and not liked, the way in which it feels like I can be a bit of an etch-a-sketch reader. That I can read something, enjoy it or be interested, but then struggle to retain much of it after I’ve finished. Being part of book clubs has been great for that. Having an opportunity to revisit the book and explore it, get different perspectives and have to try and justify my own views and emotions about a book helps to retain a bit more of that information. Getting to return to the information and use it to explain why I do or don’t think something is well explained or written, making sense of and analysing it rather than just repeating it.
That worry that I can be an etch-a-sketch reader feels like something that doesn’t sit with doing a PhD. If the point of doing a PhD is about trying to become an expert, taking the opportunity to go deep into the literature, scan reading seems out of kilter with that. That in skim reading I am just being too superficial and lazy. Then again, in trying to closely read and make notes on each article, it can be hard to work out if I’ve read ‘enough’. When I have looked up from whatever it is I’m reading to check in on my project plan and see how actual progress looks compared to the plan, it looks like it will take me many decades to even scrape the surface of the literature. There is plenty of guidance out there which suggests a close read isn’t necessary or optimal and sometimes it can be more efficient to re-read something later because it turns out to be key, rather than assuming everything is key and reading it in detail.
At the same time as having to re-learn how to read, I’m also recovering from concussion, so my brain is having to learn and re-learn lots of things. After concussion the brain is having to rewire itself to do things, going around the parts of the brain that are a bit bruised, having to learn new ways to do things it’s been used to do more effortlessly. It’s tiring and takes a lot more energy to do something more slowly and maybe not as well, or at least feeling like it’s not as good because the discomfort levels are higher. The concussion has meant I’ve not been writing as much, or doing as much of lots of other things, as I would usually do.
It’s felt a lot like that in trying to learn to read differently too. Something that I’m used to do quickly and effortlessly, more or less, has been feeling slow. I’ve been putting off reading because of the classic worry that I won’t ‘do it right’, which then means that I’m not giving myself as many chances to practice and learn – to re-train my brain.
In a world where editing out friction is a big part of the sales-pitch of websites and apps, technology and processes, actively seeking out friction and trying to do difficult things can feel disproportionately harder than it actually is. I’m also aware, and have found useful, lots of online resources for people studying a PhD to learn tools and tricks. So I’m constantly bashing up against the sense that I ‘could’ and ‘should’ be better at this than I am – further highlighting how slow I am.
I think what’s helped is coming to see that I’m looking to get a sense of the landscape rather than map every microbe. Trying to understand where there is fertile soil, areas that are densely populated and those which are little travelled, or perhaps approached from one direction but there might be paths to and from that part which haven’t been traversed. I’m not looking to map every blade of grass, every piece of bark on every tree. Stepping away from that level of detail to try and get more of a sense of how different things connect. Trusting that I can still make my way through the landscape, and understand myself in relation to that landscape, without having to account for each leaf on each tree.
The other aspect that has particularly shifted in the way I read, is now more actively getting a sense of myself in that landscape, rather than seeing myself as a passive viewer of it. When reading books before, whether fiction or non-fiction, it would feel like there would be some dialogue between myself and the author(s). Perhaps it might be the tone or a turn the story or a character took in fiction that I found myself reacting against. In non-fiction that sense of things being revealed, deepening my understanding, shifting my views or giving them more nuance or connections to other disciplines, ideas or events. And having the opportunity to discuss those views in book clubs or elsewhere meant I was still exploring them, just that for much of the time it felt like I was not a part of those discussions.
In trying to learn how to read for my PhD I’ve been reminded of the the first time I wore my lovely long-distance prescription sunglasses. It took over twice the time to walk home as the sights I could now see blew my mind. I loved that walk, and being shown the world anew. I was astonished that everyone else who could presumably see as well as I now could wasn’t also doing the same. In time that sense of wonder shifted, still there in that way, and available for me to dip into, but not something that I needed to do all of the time. That I could go about my business with a deeper appreciation and sense of ease when moving through the world.
Now when I’m wearing my prescription sunglasses and being able to see things that are far away, I can still enjoy it, revel in it but I can slip into and out of different modes of seeing. Sometimes that detail is front of mind and all I can focus on and that’s lovely. Other times, it’s a quiet background hum and instead I’m able to see the view, take in the overall scene. That ability to shift my focus, to sometimes place myself in the moment or go into lots of detail and at other times to step back is something that is taking a while, will likely continue to take a while, to learn. It’s likely to be slow, or slower than I think it could or should be to learn. Likely to continue feel frustrating but hopefully continues to make my world feel richer and more resplendently detailed, while helping me to get a better sense of the overall lay of the land.
We need new stories... 