New Year -- New Post

[Reading in our world is] an act of resistance in a landscape of distraction, a matter of engagement in a society that seems to want nothing more than for us to disengage. It connects us at the deepest levels; it is slow, rather than fast. That is its beauty and its challenge: in a culture of instant information, it requires us to pace ourselves. What does it mean, this notion of slow reading? Most fundamentally, it returns us to a reckoning with time. In the midst of a book, we have no choice but to be patient, to take each thing in its moment, to let the narrative prevail. Even more, we are reminded of all we need to savor – this instant, this scene, this line. We regain the world by withdrawing from it just a little, by stepping back from the noise, the tumult, to discover our reflections in another mind. As we do, we join a broader conversation, by which we both transcend ourselves and are enlarged.

-- David Ulin

I haven’t read David Ulin’s new book yet, but this excerpt on one of my favorite blogs caught my eye.

As I write these words, I am deep in the heart of the Santa Cruz Mountains on a two day faculty retreat.  It’s the perfect time to reflect on the meaning of reading/teaching and how it has become a form of resistance against the constant social desire to keep up by throwing out the old “iThis” in favor of the new “iThat.” 

It also seems that just as Ulin is thinking about a need to slow down and rebel against the prevailing culture, this movement has been going on for quite some time.  This morning a woman spoke who spent the last forty years in missionary work around the world.  She was not afraid of the conditions she lived in but was truly frightened (her word) by the extreme culture shock she encountered when returning back home to the U.S.  She argued that we move so quickly now that something as simple as a daily greeting has become a mere formality and not the most basic form of human connection.  So I ask, do we really want to know how anyone is doing, much less take the time to learn about the lives of imaginary people?  While this woman’s reaction may seem like an exaggeration, no matter where one lives, “progress” and all the extra stuff that comes with that slippery concept invariably creeps in.  How much time do we save in new methods of productivity?  Where does our time go?

I think that’s why the concept of this blog and the responses we’ve gotten are such a comfort and support to we three bookers.  I am not a seasoned teaching veteran, by any means, but even I see a marked difference between my reading habits as a teenager and that of my students.  These students may never have the attention span for a Trollope novel, much less Dickens at his most verbose.  What’s the point?  Why should I care about it when you can’t even explain it in less than a paragraph?  Can’t you summarize it for me?  I hear those complaints all the time.  Now, I could go on all day about their need to focus or the broken state of the educational system, but I wouldn’t be adding anything new to the white noise of ideas that fall in and out of fashion like waves.  Instead of discussing more ways to test their deficiencies, I think my most effective “weapon” against a lack of motivation is my own passion for the subject, exhibited each and every day in the classroom.  Ultimately, my students know that my deepest frustration is not out born out of anger at my seemingly futile task but because I want so desperately for them to see the beauty or the concept despite their own blinders.

Therefore, my goal this semester (and beyond) is much simpler:  I will teach every student that I love to read because I want to learn about the world.  My soul is refreshed when I realize that I am not the center of the universe.  I can learn from the characters populating my favorite novels that I can be nobler, more caring, and more thoughtful if only I take the time to consider their positive (or negative) examples.  I am hopeful about humans when I realize that we can connect across time, across cultures, and across political lines by celebrating the same breath-taking, life-changing, wondrous piece of art.  The joy of reading for me is not necessarily about the overall story line anymore, but it is about the discoveries along the way. 

As Thoreau once said in Walden, “We should come home from adventures, and perils, and discoveries every day with new experience and character.”  While Thoreau was waxing poetic about these large grandiose changes we can make to our lives, I’ve taken his lesson to a much smaller place in mine.  A beautiful sentence can make me pause for days.  A great final paragraph can change my life forever.  Opening oneself up to the thought that a book or a writer can transform you brings so many different possibilities to one’s own life.  After all, as William Carlos Williams so quietly pointed out in his poetry, “so much depends / upon / a red wheel / barrow / glazed with rain / water / beside the white / chickens.”  Simple adventures in reading equal simple adventures in living.

So, why go in greater depth than what Ulin so beautifully expressed? 

New years are a time of great reflection.  It is the only time of the year when every person, no matter if they read or not, takes a quiet moment to think about their goals for the next year or next phase of life.

For me, I am going to continue to look at those little stitches in time and instead of despairing about the big picture, focus on those quiet flashes of joy.  Besides trying to feed my reading habit as much as humanly possible, I’m going to start using some of my favorite quotes as springboards for my yoga meditations this year. 

For all of us at Thrice Booked, we’ve been so grateful for the chance to share our own experiences and thoughts with a larger audience.  We’ve been forced to sit down and really think about what we are reading and why it has mattered to us.  And while we may not have been the most faithful bloggers during our most frenzied teaching times, you have our firm reassurance that we aren’t going anywhere.  We’re still reading and we’re still contemplating what is important to us, one book at a time.

So, you fellow rebels out there, won’t you join us for another great year here at Thrice Booked?