Working out the right angle

“Some have been afflicted by bibliomania through idleness, and for them there is small hope of cure; others, I count myself among them, from excess of affairs. Many, like asses that wear out their time for provender, are so buried in the minor and immediate tasks of earning a living as to get confounded promptly and permanently with the victims of commercial ambition, whence it comes to pass that, slyly and insensibly perverted, nerves frayed and brains dulled, they take to books as sick souls take to drugs. They hoard at first against a time of leisure when they may perchance read, and end by hoarding for the sake of hoarding, thus allying themselves with those dizzards who wallow among possessions which they cannot use, and who die before they have lived.”

Anatomy of Bibliomania (Holbrook Jackson)


Not that I’ve ever been a big believer in New Year’s Resolutions – I seem to be stuck in a school/university mindset where, if I make resolutions, I make them in September - but I may be one of those rare breeds of people who keeps telling myself that I need to read less. Aren’t people always saying that they ought to read more? I’m quite the opposite: reading rules my life and it’s proving to be more and more of a hindrance as the years pass me by.

I realise I’m a bit late in talking about a New Year’s resolution; after all, we are fast approaching the Ides of March. But this is my first posting of 2010. The original trickle of concerns/complaints from my legions of loyal readers has gone from a piddling stream to a raging torrent (though thankfully no vile insults directed my way just yet) and before I get deluged by the floods, I reckoned it was about time that I inundated my followers with a scatter-shot diatribe of my not-so-coherent thoughts. (how’s that for water and flood metaphors?)

I’ve got a feeling that I may be quoting a fair few friends today, and I’ll start with Yonni, who sometime ago offered me some generous and kind flattering words of praise and as well as some very valuable advice, the gist of which was this: just write. Just put words down [on paper], they don’t have to always make sense, just write, write, write. I’d long been putting such simple advice off for lack of the ‘right angle’. I should elaborate.

I’m currently in the midst of student-teaching (civics and world history) at a local high school. It has certainly been a challenge and it’s not my intention to discuss that at any length here, for a variety of reasons. First, it would probably be deadly boring – think about, if you’re aware of them, those cringeworthy memoirs in the form of a daily diary written by first year teachers at inner-city schools (I actually only know of one book, but there are a few blogs out there). Second, it would strike me as rather unprofessional. Third, I need a break from even thinking about it. And fourth, it would inevitably turn into me whingeing and ranting and raving and I really don’t want to do that – let’s keep things cheerful and positive.

That said, I may every now and then share a tale or two if it’s of wider interest to a theme I’m crapping on about.

I’m certainly awfully busy these days, which is one excuse for not writing more, but there’s also tiredness, motivational issues, brain-mushiness after a day of being used and abused at school and, most of all, a lack of inspiration. There are one or two things that, in a vague sense, I’d like to share, but the thoughts aren’t really well-formed enough to constitute thoughts that would make much sense in their current, inchoate states. Nor is the angle there just yet, if that makes sense.

Back to the reading thing. I hope to avoid sounding, uh, pretentious here.

Why do people read? Sounds a silly, obvious question, but I’ve lately been asking myself this question. In a recent, way-too-short-for-my-liking conversation with Grant, this topic came up. I wonder about this because it seems like these days much of what I read fails to sink in. I feel terribly guilty for reading fiction, unless it’s of the stimulating, existential (bah!), thought-provoking kind. Plus, as an aspiring social studies teacher, I should be reading plenty of non-fiction, which I do anyway. And which I love.

Or do I?

I quote Elizabeth here, who once accused me of liking the idea of reading more than the reading itself (apologies if I’m misquoting here). I reacted in an overly flabbergasted manner at the time, but oftentimes my mind wanders back to that conversation and I think that perhaps she might have been onto something. This is potentially tragic. It could also be explored in greater depth, but I shan’t just now.

I get irritable and cranky if I can’t find the time to read in a day. That’s why the past few years of teaching English have been great: it affords me ample time to read (it’s either that, or going out to bars and clubs and getting stocious and then my ribs cracked or - horror of all horrors! - actually spending the time to learn the local language).

Reading rules my life. Whether it’s news or sport or whatever else, I put reading before so much else, sacrificing the things that really need to get done. Like now, for example. I really need to work on my CV and send out some covering letters for teaching positions, which can be lengthy affairs, plus of course, some lesson planning.

And don’t get me started on technology. Things like the Kindle and various other computer-type readers scare the bejesus out of me. What’s the future coming to? Should we celebrate or lament the decline in print journalism? What if newspapers start charging for content – many already do – and linking them via a subscription service to one of these wretched e-reader devices? What will happen to the fun of spotting the cover of a book someone’s reading on public transport and then saying ‘Hey, I read that recently, so what do you think thus far?’ (such a geek am I that I can’t even use this as a thinly-veiled excuse to hit on women, as I seem to ask more men about what they’re reading, though you may recall the time at Keene where I asked a girl what she thought of Cod, only to be met with a caustic ‘Uh, I have a boyfriend’).

But here’s the deal. I spend ages and ages reading whatever intrigues me (which is a lot) and I make calculated plans on when and how I’m going to get them read. I take notes in the margins. I take notes in various notebooks and journals, which have rapidly piled up over the years (where else do you think I get all these endless quotations and tidbits from?). But for what? I do seem to get some pleasure in reading, but a few hours later I’m hard pressed to remember much of what I’ve read. And then I think to myself, what was the point of that if I’ve just forgotten it all? Shouldn’t I have spent my time doing something more substantial and productive?

No doubt after wrapping this up, I’ll probably pick up another book: I tend to have 4-5 on the go at a time, and quite a few others with a bookmark languishing 1/3 of the way through from who knows how long ago. I’ll never learn.

Anyway, while I’m on the topic, a couple of words on a couple of books. I recently finished Freakanomics (on audiobook, no less, which means there might be hope for a Luddite like me with e-readers in the future; this coming from the same guy who swore never to cave in and get an Ipod) which has been somewhat of a sensation in the economics world (the Guardian named it one of the books of the decade, in fact). This is just one of a glut of books out there trying to bring the esoteric world of numbers and finance to a mass audience – I like this kind of stuff, because I find economics fascinating yet struggle with things like equilibrium curves and the Black-Sholes Model or Theory or whatever the hell it’s called. These books tend to be engaging, accessible and revelatory.

Freakanomics, however, was a massive disappointment. It’s one of those typical books that has about 15-20 pages of truly original material, padded out with pages upon pages of dross and fluff. It could have – and should have – been part of a series of essay collections. After the initial, sometimes bewildering insight, the chapters veer off into a morass of dull statistics and over-elaboration. For my money, better books out there include The Undercover Economist (Tim Harford) and especially Naked Economics (Charles Wheelan).

[Another book which left me similarly underwhelmed despite the heaps of critical praise piled upon it: Black Swan (Nassim Taleb); I found it full of holes and flimsy arguments, though I do agree with the general premise: looking at the impact of improbable events which are near impossible to forecast. In other words, why bother with risk models when some potentially catastrophic event can come and wipe everything out? That’s the book in a nutshell, no read to bother reading it now.]

Trivia question for fellow football geeks: according to Uefa, in which city can be found the only stadium in Europe that ‘conforms to every single safety and security measure that [Uefa] stipulates’? The complex comes replete with two full-size stadia, an arena licensed for international meetings of any indoor sport, a five-pitch training ground, a sports academy, a hotel, bar and restaurant. The answer is awfully surprising, and to give you a clue, I read about this in McMafia: A Journey Through the Criminal Underworld (Misha Glenny). Which means the answer probably isn’t London or Madrid. I’ll answer this in my next post. (by the way, terrific book thus far)

Okay, so maybe this is why I read – I didn’t know that before and now I do. It all makes perfect sense now – I really needed to know this in order to enrich my life!

I feel some sort of apology is due for the banal nature of this post. If it was somewhat insipid and torpid at times, it’s mainly because I’m rusty, but also because my brain isn’t fully functioning and I simply felt like spouting off a load of piffle. I blame it on the deleterious effects of student-teaching – either that, or I can blame Yonni. Although I can’t promise to do better the next time, I do aim to try and churn one of these things out every weekend for the foreseeable future. I’ll work on providing a little more ballast to future endeavours.

Thanks for reading anyway. Happy New Year.