This week’s musing asks…

Do you think it makes you NOT (or less) “well-read” if there are certain genres that you won’t read because you KNOW you won’t enjoy them? Why?

This is an interesting question, and I don’t have a clear answer to it. I’ll try to illustrate through some examples instead. I haven’t been a fan of the Russian classic literature I’ve read so far. I have really tried. Despite liking the movie [amazon_link id=”B002WC88A8″ target=”_blank” ]Doctor Zhivago[/amazon_link], I found I couldn’t get into the [amazon_link id=”0679774386″ target=”_blank” ]book[/amazon_link]. I had to slog through both [amazon_link id=”0451228146″ target=”_blank” ]One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich[/amazon_link] and [amazon_link id=”0199536368″ target=”_blank” ]Crime and Punishment[/amazon_link]. Folks rave over these books. They do! And they must have a reason. I feel less well-read because I can’t bring myself to try more Dostoyevsky and I’m afraid to even begin with Tolstoy.

On the other hand, I also think it’s much more important to read books you like. I have said many times that life’s too short to read bad books. I came to the conclusion some time ago that I had to read for me, not to satisfy some arbitrary definition of “well-read.” After all, what does that really mean? Some folks would define it as reading a certain number of “classics,” while others would define it as reading a certain number of books. Still others would say it’s reading broadly, including a variety of genres, as well as reading a large number of books.

I think I have reached a place where I am happy with the amount I read and with what I read. I would consider myself well-read by my own definition, which includes having read a fair number of books in the classic canon as well as a fairly large number of books in general. But that’s just my own definition. I may not be well-read by yours, especially since I have so much trouble with the Russians. Either way, I am satisfied with what I’ve read and how much I’ve read. I think it’s much more important to seek out books I know I will enjoy rather than worry that other folks don’t think I’m reading widely enough. After all, it’s not my job to critique books, and even if it were, I have a hunch that most reviewers tend to specialize in genres anyway—at least somewhat. Reading is my favorite hobby, and it has given me a great deal of joy and pleasure. Why make it another chore by worry about whether I’m “well-read” enough, whatever that even means?

This week’s musing asks…

Below is a link to an NPR discussion about the simple fact that there’s no way you can read, see and experience all the things that are available to be experienced. The two methods for dealing with it are culling (i.e., cutting out certain genres that don’t interest you, etc.) or surrender (i.e., just making peace with the facts and enjoying what you can in the time that you have).

http://www.npr.org/2011/06/27/137451477/you-cant-possibly-read-it-all-so-stop-trying

So, do you cull, or do you surrender? Or do you do both?

I think I do a bit of both. I am very selective about which books I will read in certain genres. For instance, my nonfiction reading is almost exclusively limited to history, education, and literature, although if a book looks interesting and doesn’t fall in those narrow confines, I will read it. I am fairly selective about fantasy and sci-fi. I don’t read a lot of it, but I am careful about what I do choose to read in those genres. My favorite genre is historical fiction, so I tend to broaden my scope and will often read historical fiction, even if I don’t think I’m interested in the subject. I have too often discovered that I can become interested if the book grabs me.

I set a goal to read 50 books this year. I keep a to-read list. I can feel the pressure to read as much as I can before I can’t read anymore, but I have also accepted that I just won’t be able to get to everything that is good and worth reading. So I also have made peace with the idea that the article calls “surrender.” Life is too short to read bad books, but I am determined to enjoy the ones I have time to get to.

This week’s musing asks…

Have you ever read a book that inspired you to take up a cause? What book was it, and what is/was the cause?

I have never exactly taken up a cause because of a book, but I have changed my opinions or practices because of a book. Barbara Kingsolver is one author who has changed the way I think about things on a couple of occasions. Robin Bates wrote about the issue of illegal immigration recently, and I left a comment on his post about how Kingsolver’s novel [amazon_link id=”0061765228″ target=”_blank” ]The Bean Trees[/amazon_link] helped me understand the issue is not black and white. In the novel, the character Mattie helps illegal immigrants sort of like a stop on the Underground Railroad, and it is through Mattie that Taylor, the protagonist, meets Estevan and Esperanza, who are illegal immigrants from Guatemala. Estevan and Esperanza came to America to save their lives. Had they gone through the proper channels, they likely would not have been allowed to come to America, but if they hadn’t left Guatemala, they would have been killed. Sometimes, it won’t work to just request asylum. The novel shows how an issue that is usually portrayed as black and white—illegal immigrants are breaking the law—becomes more complicated. We don’t necessarily know the whole story behind why someone chooses to enter the country illegally, and we don’t know what they are leaving behind.

Kingsolver’s novel [amazon_link id=”0061577073″ target=”_blank” ]The Poisonwood Bible[/amazon_link], one of my favorite books, examines the role America played in pillaging Africa. The British have examined this colonial role in their own literature, but Americans like to think that because they had no colonies, they were well out of it. It’s a gorgeous book. I can’t recommend it highly enough.

While not revolutionary, Grant Wiggins and Jay McTighe’s book [amazon_link id=”0131950843″ target=”_blank” ]Understanding by Design[/amazon_link] changed the way I teach and assess students on their learning and has continued to be influential in my life. I can’t compare it to a cause, really, but I have taken to trying to convert as many teachers as I know to backward design.