Life Writing by Zadie Smith – Rookie Mag

I don’t want any record of my days.

For a long time, I’ve wanted to keep a diary. I tried throughout adolescence but always gave it up. I dreamt of being very frank, like Joe Orton, whose diaries I admired very much; I found them in the library when I was about 14. I read them half out of literary interest and half as pornography, thrilled to follow Joe around the many corners of the city in which I had only walked but he had managed to have illicit sex. I thought: If you’re going to write a diary, it should be like this, it should be utterly free, honest. But I found I couldn’t write about sexual desires (too shy, too dishonest), nor could I describe any sexual activity—I wasn’t getting any—and so the diary devolved into a banal account of fake crushes and imagined romance and I was soon disgusted with it and put it aside. A bit later I tried again, this time concentrating only on school, like a Judy Blume character, detailing playground incidents and friendship drama, but I was never able to block from my mind a possible audience, and this ruined it for me: It felt like homework. I was always trying to frame things to my advantage in case so-and-so at school picked it up and showed it to everybody. The dishonesty of diary writing—this voice you put on for supposedly no one but yourself—I found that idea so depressing. I feel that life has too much artifice in it anyway without making a pretty pattern of your own most intimate thoughts. Or maybe it’s the other way ’round: Some people are able to write frankly, simply, of how they feel, whereas I can’t stop myself turning it into a pretty pattern.

To read the full article, click here.


The History of “Loving” to Read – The New Yorker

As a senior in college, I took a class on Jane Austen—a great class with, it must be said, a weird vibe. Almost all of the students were women (out of around a hundred people, only five or ten were men), and it was a hothouse of Jane Austen obsession. In the first lecture, the professor identified herself as a Janeite—a member of “the curious American cult of Jane Austen,” according to the BBC—and, when she asked if we were Janeites, too, scores of people raised their hands.

If anything, the fervor of the Janeites puts into relief a fact almost too obvious to notice: the world of books is a romantic world. Romance structures literary life, and to be a reader is, often, to follow its choreography, from susceptibility and discovery (“I just saw it there in the bookstore!”) to infatuation, intimacy, identification, and obsession. We connect with books in an intellectual way, but the most valuable relationships we have with them are emotional; to say that you merely admire or respect a book is, on some level, to insult it. Feelings are so fundamental to literary life that it can be hard to imagine a way of relating to literature that doesn’t involve loving it. Without all those emotions, what would reading be?

via The History of “Loving” to Read – The New Yorker.


Reading: The Struggle by Tim Parks | NYRblog | The New York Review of Books

The conditions in which we read today are not those of fifty or even thirty years ago, and the big question is how contemporary fiction will adapt to these changes, because in the end adapt it will. No art form exists independently of the conditions in which it is enjoyed.

What I’m talking about is the state of constant distraction we live in and how that affects the very special energies required for tackling a substantial work of fiction.

http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/nyrblog/2014/jun/10/reading-struggle/


Read, Kids, Read – The Opinion Pages – The NYTimes.com

As an uncle I’m inconsistent about too many things.

Birthdays, for example. My nephew Mark had one on Sunday, and I didn’t remember — and send a text — until 10 p.m., by which point he was asleep.

School productions, too. I saw my niece Bella in “Seussical: The Musical” but missed “The Wiz.” She played Toto, a feat of trans-species transmogrification that not even Meryl, with all of her accents, has pulled off.

But about books, I’m steady. Relentless. I’m incessantly asking my nephews and nieces what they’re reading and why they’re not reading more. I’m reliably hurling novels at them, and also at friends’ kids. I may well be responsible for 10 percent of all sales of “The Fault in Our Stars,” a teenage love story to be released as a movie next month. Never have I spent money with fewer regrets, because I believe in reading — not just in its power to transport but in its power to transform.

via http://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/13/opinion/bruni-read-kids-read.html?rref=opinion


Reading Literature Makes Us Smarter and Nicer | TIME.com

Gregory Currie, a professor of philosophy at the University of Nottingham, recently argued in the New York Times that we ought not to claim that literature improves us as people, because there is no “compelling evidence that suggests that people are morally or socially better for reading Tolstoy” or other great books.

Actually, there is such evidence. Raymond Mar, a psychologist at York University in Canada, and Keith Oatley, a professor emeritus of cognitive psychology at the University of Toronto, reported in studies published in 2006 and 2009 that individuals who often read fiction appear to be better able to understand other people, empathize with them and view the world from their perspective. This link persisted even after the researchers factored in the possibility that more empathetic individuals might choose to read more novels. A 2010 study by Mar found a similar result in young children: the more stories they had read to them, the keener their “theory of mind,” or mental model of other people’s intentions.

via Reading Literature Makes Us Smarter and Nicer | TIME.com.


Long-Dead Authors on Facebook and Twitter – NYTimes.com

Last year, a line in an article on the fate of Barnes & Noble gave my heart pause — and sent me on an all-consuming tear. If we lose more brick-and-­mortar bookstores, the article noted, the classics in particular will be hard hit.

What was the logic? Apparently, while browsing in bookstores, people often pick up classic novels, which are inexpensive and prominently displayed reminders of what we only pretended to read in high school and college but now would actually appreciate. Classics, it seems, are the impulse buy of the bookstore world. Might we get something out of “To the Lighthouse” this time around?Online browsing, by comparison, places new titles alongside other new titles in similar genres — the idea being that if you like this, you’ll also like more of the same. “Moby-Dick” and “Ethan Frome” simply don’t pop up when you search for “The Casual Vacancy” or “Telegraph Avenue.”

At the time this news hit me, I was in the midst of a “blog tour” for my latest book. It’s no secret that novelists are increasingly encouraged to use social media to sell their wares — becoming authorial personalities on Facebook, Twitter, Google Plus, Goodreads and the rest for the good of sales and brand.It dawned on me that if all this online networking really succeeds, then dead authors suffer an additional disadvantage. I imagined classics being bullied off online retail sites. Living authors elbowing out dead ones on Facebook and Twitter. “20 Under 40” writers carving out larger and larger slices of the book-sales pie. I could feel the status of the classics as cultural cornerstones steadily eroding.

via Long-Dead Authors on Facebook and Twitter – NYTimes.com.


Shakespeare and Wordsworth boost the brain, new research reveals – Telegraph

Scientists, psychologists and English academics at Liverpool University have found that reading the works of the Bard and other classical writers has a beneficial effect on the mind, catches the reader’s attention and triggers moments of self-reflection.

Using scanners, they monitored the brain activity of volunteers as they read works by William Shakespeare, William Wordsworth, T.S Eliot and others.

They then “translated” the texts into more “straightforward”, modern language and again monitored the readers’ brains as they read the words.

Scans showed that the more “challenging” prose and poetry set off far more electrical activity in the brain than the more pedestrian versions.

via Shakespeare and Wordsworth boost the brain, new research reveals – Telegraph.