It’s true that I like to read. It has been my favorite pastime as long as I can remember. As a small, geeky child my parents would ground me from reading instead of from going out and playing with my friends. A sad but true tale about me that says way more than one simple sentence should.
I am currently studying for my PhD in literature, which is really nothing more than an excuse to read for a living. I have worked for bookstores, publishing houses, and newspaper, and let you tell you, they get awful mad when you read on the clock. I’m that sad little man from the Twilight Zone who almost gets fired from the bank for reading on the job. However, I would like to point out that he is apparently the only piece of humanity who survives the holocaust, all because he snuck down to the bank vault to read some Shelley. Anyway, after a number of years it became apparent that English professor is the only career that is going to pay me to read, so here I am.
I certainly have enough to read. Between my three classes I have 29 books to read in sixteen weeks. I’m not complaining about this. Even if I don’t really care to read all of the books assigned (like the evil Pamela), I know I’ll probably end up liking them once I get into them (except for Pamela). What I hate is that now that I have rearranged my life so reading and writing about books are my main function, I feel guilty if I read for fun. Anytime I pick up a book just for kicks, I find myself analyzing if this is really how I should spend my time. If I’m reading I should be reading for class, and if I’m caught up, I should be reading in preparation for prelims or my dissertation. Death Note and The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao have become as psychotically bad for me as reruns of Friends and The Fairly Odd Parents.
Reading in and of itself has become an indulgence. My mind feels that if I’m holding a book it had better contribute to a class or a paper or a lecture. Often I feel so guilty about reading for fun that I end up not reading at all and instead turn on the TV or surf the net. I make deals with myself, like any reading I do after 11pm and before 8am is OK, since I would normally be sleeping in that time anyway. There is a certain danger in turning your favorite hobby into your career.
5 responses so far ↓
beetqueen // January 8, 2008 at 1:04 am
Shelley? Blah…he should have had Keats.
Ryan // January 8, 2008 at 2:47 am
It’s a good thing you never tried to be a vet. Your life would be unending misery.
JimPanzee // January 8, 2008 at 2:48 pm
This is exactly how I’ve been feeling for the last year or so. As a person with a Literature/Creative Writing BA but now pursuing advanced education in Political Science, I’m woefully behind reading “the canon” of political science. So I feel like, if I’m reading I should be reading Kant or Grotius or Kissinger not Atwood, Roth, or Denis Johnson.
But, like I’ve said, we are worthless as academics if we don’t keep up with our contemporary world. And if you need to validate the importance of reading Death Note as an academic exercise, just read Oscar Wao or Eco’s new book. Both of which are heavily comic’s driven.
Courtney // January 9, 2008 at 4:44 pm
It is Dr Davis for my editing course. I like him already. He went around the class and introduced himself to each person, shaking our hands, which I thought was cute.
vivian de st. vrain // February 6, 2008 at 11:07 pm
It took 40 years but I’ve solved the problem. I was always an addicted reader, but during my professional career as a Shakespeare scholar/teacher I had to read scads upon scads of literary criticism — and rarely had time to read for the fun I thought I entered the academy to enjoy. Now I’m retired, and, once again, I read exactly what I want to read. I recommend retirement, though in your case it might be a tad premature.
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