Why Slow Reading?
Finally explaining the name of this book club
Hello! I’ve been meaning to write this post for a while, but the new COVID strain had me nauseous and basically strapped to my bed. Now that I’m feeling better, I can finally introduce the core element of our book club: slow reading.
When I started making bookish content (this was in 2011, and I was a baby), the Internet was taken by a feverish curiosity for books. BookTube was new, the blogging sphere was bubbling with excitement, and everyone unwittingly started building their own personal brand around being a reader. It stands to reason that, if you’re creating content around books, you can create more of it with each book you read, so you better read more, and fast! Reading quickly became the standard (I am such a book lover, I read so many books, etc.), and although it was fun for a hot minute, we can't honestly say it was without repercussions1.
It is not uncommon to find videos (or other resources) centred around the concept of reading more books, often boasting gargantuan numbers and promising to show you the way. Here’s how I read 100 books a year! 200+! How many books (plural) can I fit in only 24 hours?? Click to find out!!
I have consumed my fair share of this kind of videos, and for a long time, I organised my reading life around the concept of the Reading Goal, the big one: when Goodreads asks how many books you wanna read in a year, you don’t just choose a puny number like, let’s say, eight; no, you go for the big ones. Fifty! Fifty-two! Now, some people are very fast readers. My friend Juliana has read the entirety of the Eragon series in a weekend. For them, going from book to book is as easy as drinking a glass of water, and that’s great! But not everyone has the same time, energy, resources, so when we set the standard, it’s important to ask ourselves why we’re doing that, and who we’re setting it after. Jack Edwards might read 100+ books every year, but arguably, that’s his job. In his supposed eight-ish work hours (this is pure speculation), he can read as much as he wants, but for a nurse who does shifts at a hospital, working hours are working hours; a translator might be reading a lot for their job, and lose interest in books as soon as they’re done with it for the day; when we come back home from our jobs, we got houses to clean and families to tend to, relationships to nourish and meals to prepare. It is absolutely possible to dedicate one’s life to reading, to read 100+ books a year, but I want to reflect on this and find a different standard, one that allows us to wholly feel like readers (and accomplished ones) even if our numbers are closer to ten than fifty.
The idea of being able to read 100 books in a year is enticing, but I got tired of this mentality; after giving it some thought, I decided to permanently part with it. For me, slow reading is a matter of choice and freedom. If I were to want to read quickly, and read more, the time I’d need to invest in books would easily multiply, and I wouldn’t even be able to schedule breaks between one book and the other )it turns out that the breaks are where we do the thinking), and at the end of the day, I’d rather read a few great books rather than a lot of random stuff (that I will likely forget) just because I need to reach a certain, arbitrary goal. I want to have the freedom to read what I want, whenever I want to, without having to cram smaller books just so that my number stays on target, and without having to feel guilty if I spend one evening with my boyfriend instead of reading my daily 50 pages. But this conversation also has to do with mortality, because I’m thirty, and I’m not going to live forever: the time I’m granted on this planet is limited, and instead of maximising the number of books I can read, I decided to try and maximise the experience of reading itself, learning how to reap the most out of it.
Enter Slow Reading
Slow reading isn’t just about speed (although speed is the trick), it’s about intention. When I talk about slow reading, I talk about reading stuff carefully and trying to truly immerse yourself in the book. When you read slowly, you don’t just read to find out what happens. On top of that (because let’s face it, we all love a juicy plot!), you can:
highlight different sentences and ask yourself why they grabbed your attention;
look for patterns in the prose, dialogue, characterisation;
find connections with other books;
annotate the pages with your own thoughts (any kind of thought!);
try and ask yourself what a chapter or a specific paragraph is doing (what’s the purpose of it? how could it work better?);
discuss the book with peers to access their thoughts, annotations, ideas.
These are basic skills and activities that are rarely talked about, and anyone can access them regardless of their level; now, logically, you cannot read every book like this if your goal is simply to read more. These activities are time consuming, and require some amount of mental energy from you. For a person with a 9-5 and a social life, reading deeply and reading lots of books do not go hand in hand. On the other hand, slow reading invites close reading; it invites introspection, tranquility, thought, communication.
On a more basic level, though, I also want to give people permission to read at their own pace without feeling like they’re underperforming; it’s really easy to look at all the booktubers and booktokers and feel like you must be doing something wrong, but the reality is that quantity doesn’t make you a reader: reading does. So read slowly, savour your book, and make them your own. This is my biggest wish for you and for our little gang.
Our lil’ book club starts in less than a week (next Monday, in fact!) and I’m really excited to read The Animals in That Country with you all. Moreover, I want to invite you to truly immerse yourselves in it. Take notes, make connections, jot down your thoughts. Nothing is off-limits! This book club is not an academic, mightier-than-thou space where we compete to find out who’s smartest, or who read the book correctly; it’s a space to share ourselves through reading. I wanna know about how a chapter reminded you of your own relationship with your pet, for example. Reading can be a portal that will guide us through a deeper understanding of ourselves and each other. Don’t believe me? Then simply start reading with us. I’ll see you on the other side :)
There’s a whole discussion to be had about consumerism in the bookish sphere, but that’s for another time.