Some of the Internet’s favourite reading debates . . .
Audiobooks don’t count as reading
Firstly, what do you mean, ‘count’? Count towards what? Is there some great, all-seeing arbiter of literature that is keeping notes about how people consume literature? No, there certainly is not so what you mean is – you believe audiobooks to be a lesser means of enjoying the written word than physically sight-reading a work.
And that’s okay. Art is subjective, after all and we are all entitled to hold our own opinions. And the internet is widely accepted as the go-to place to share unsolicited opinions and start fights with random strangers who don’t adhere to your views. But before we get smug about gate-keeping literature, we should consider those for whom physically reading a book just isn’t possible or is, at least, rather difficult. Not really very fair to make them feel inferior about their reading habits, is it?
But even for fully-abled people with all the time in the world to pick up a book and read in the traditional manner, does it really matter? Shouldn’t we be encouraging people to enjoy and explore the literary world in whatever way works for them? Audiobooks have brought the words and ideas of countless writers to people who would otherwise have found them inaccessible and that, surely is something any lover of reading should be applauding.
The books you absolutely have to read to be considered a ‘Serious Reader’
Again, the good people of the internet are alluding to the aforementioned mythical book auditor when they start talking about this nonsense. This one gives me the pip especially as it evokes a somewhat-humiliating classroom incident when I was about 13 years old. My English teacher was absolutely aghast that I hadn’t read Alices’ Adventures In Wonderland and had no plans to do so, berating me in front of the whole class for my negligence. My hot-cheeked shame was surely palpable to everyone present and I resolved there and then to never read that book, just to spite the old cow.
If you want to read James Joyce – that’s great, good for you, marvellous choice. If you want to read Alan Moore and graphic novels – fabulous, you definitely should. Fancy spending your whole life reading nothing but Agatha Christie? That’s perfect, there’s plenty to keep you going. Only interested in footballer autobiographies? Knock yourself out. The only books you absolutely have to read are the ones you want to read. Oh – and if you start a book and think it’s a bit rubbish, you don’t have to finish it. Life is far too short. Ditch it and pick up another one, it really is completely okay to do that.
Terry Pratchett is a Fantasy author
This one is a bit more niche, because if you’re not a Pratchett fan, this won’t matter to you very much. But there are a lot of Pratchett fans out there, so I thought it was worth bringing up.
To put it very simply, Terry Pratchett books are satire and social commentary set in a world that mirrors our own and uses fantasy elements as literary devices. Basically, he uses magic and wizards and monsters to take the mickey out of society. All societies. And all peoples, all religions, all social structures – anybody and everybody. The fantasy aspect really isn’t important at all. The characters and the stories are the important bit.
But… it’s got wizards in it so it must be fantasy!
Okay. It’s not for me (or anyone) to tell you how to read anything. But it does rather miss the point by the widest country mile imaginable.
Don’t bend the spine!
Now, this argument I do understand. There is something quite beautiful about a brand new, pristine book untouched by man or beast. And if someone lends me a book, I treat it with the utmost reverence, without question. But there is also an argument that a book that has been battered about by endless reading and re-reading, that shows the scars of a life of adventure that rivals its contents – that is a pretty beautiful book, in my eyes. The turned down corners, the dog-eared cover, the scrawled marginalia (bonus points if the rude bits are underlined) – this gives a book a real sense of vitality and importance. It connects you with its previous readers and you wonder how they interpreted that ambiguous paragraph, did they see that plot twist coming, did they hate the antagonist as much as you did?
I think both sides of this argument are equally valid, actually. I have some books that I’ve kept in mint condition for reasons I can’t quite explain. Some of them are undeniably pretty, so there’s that. But others are quite ordinary by comparison. It doesn’t always do to apply logic to books and their readers. Then again, I have a super collection of my mum’s and grandmother’s Agatha Christie books, some dating from the 1950s. They are in an abominable state – some partially missing covers, others held together by sticky tape and willpower alone. They smell… unique. And I couldn’t love them more. They wear their years very nicely indeed and I enjoy them even more for their individual personalities.
So, perhaps it really doesn’t matter how you keep your books. Just keep them. Lots of them, if you can.
