I had not a dissimilar experience with him around the same time, motivated not by a desire to get off my phone (although that also remains a theme) but by the sudden death of a family member and a need to kind of disappear for a bit. And what a magnificent companion he was in grief too. I also miss him. (Beautiful piece, thank you!)
Everybody starts with Gravity’s Rainbow and it’s quite daunting! I have a go every couple of years and only make it half way! My first Pynchon was Vineland, which is a real hoot, but V is as good a place to start as any.
…that feeling of wanting to go back but not knowing how… I think that’s where it really begins. I’ve been working through Proust alongside the paintings he describes… it opens up a different kind of entry point, especially if a full reread feels too much.
When I was 21 years old I had read only three books in my life. I didn't understand how this had impacted me.
One evening I went out with some new friends and we all ended up back at one friend's apartment. It was filled with books. Each of them (we were four altogether) asked detailed questions about the books, or wanted to say something about their experiences reading the same books. I was silent. I watched them talk and started to feel motivation.
I looked at the room, the way it was arranged around the pursuit of learning. We were all young men, early 20s, and they had already begun to collect libraries. The main feature of the room was a small cushioned armchair that was set right below a reading lamp, just beside the bookshelves. I could see that it had been a center of this person's life, that it was the place from which his insights and conversation were nourished.
A few days passed, and I learned that this friend was moving into another apartment, looking to rent the one I visited. I rented it. I moved in. It had all the furniture still in place, and I turned it into the studio of changing my life. I began to read.
I hurried to the nearby used bookstore (those were always within reach until bookstores began to disappear) andI purchased two books: 1984, and Brave New World, which had come up in that evening conversation. This was a first for me. I couldn't believe I was setting out to read a big book. I was going to do it for myself, not for someone else. I didn't even tell anybody!
I think I was embarrassed to be so inexperienced, and just in case I couldn't finish, I kept it a secret.
I made myself read these books all the way through. I sat in the chair night after night after work, before work, turning pages slowly to accommodate my (still) slow reading speed. It probably took a summer, but I was young and my time was my own, when I wasn't flipping pizzas. I finished both books. Then I kept going.
It changed my life. A year later I enrolled at St. John's College in Annapolis Maryland, the Great Books School. I became a lifelong reader. Within ten years I was reasonably well-read for my generation, but I felt like I was just starting to learn.
It did more than I expected. It introduced me to the rich lives of other people, other times, and showed me clearly that reading was a way of life shared among people I admired.
Reading books is a way of making friends across generations both historical generations and living generations. It amazes me that I can form a type of friendship with writers who have been gone for so long. My life has been shaped by these writers, maybe just as much as people I know and live among.
Looking back, I would tell myself this:
Read a book first, and then make friends with other readers.
This was somewhat easier in the 1980s than it is today. But lots of important things were easier, and they are still important. It just means I have to prioritize and simplify my use of time.
I had not a dissimilar experience with him around the same time, motivated not by a desire to get off my phone (although that also remains a theme) but by the sudden death of a family member and a need to kind of disappear for a bit. And what a magnificent companion he was in grief too. I also miss him. (Beautiful piece, thank you!)
thank you Heather!
Beautiful to read about the self-kindness away from the infinite scroll. Thank you.
thank you Alec!
Have you ever read any Pynchon?
Yes I got halfway through Gravity’s Rainbow. I admired it enormously and just kind of ran out of steam. I’m sure I will get back to it at some point!
Everybody starts with Gravity’s Rainbow and it’s quite daunting! I have a go every couple of years and only make it half way! My first Pynchon was Vineland, which is a real hoot, but V is as good a place to start as any.
…that feeling of wanting to go back but not knowing how… I think that’s where it really begins. I’ve been working through Proust alongside the paintings he describes… it opens up a different kind of entry point, especially if a full reread feels too much.
When I was 21 years old I had read only three books in my life. I didn't understand how this had impacted me.
One evening I went out with some new friends and we all ended up back at one friend's apartment. It was filled with books. Each of them (we were four altogether) asked detailed questions about the books, or wanted to say something about their experiences reading the same books. I was silent. I watched them talk and started to feel motivation.
I looked at the room, the way it was arranged around the pursuit of learning. We were all young men, early 20s, and they had already begun to collect libraries. The main feature of the room was a small cushioned armchair that was set right below a reading lamp, just beside the bookshelves. I could see that it had been a center of this person's life, that it was the place from which his insights and conversation were nourished.
A few days passed, and I learned that this friend was moving into another apartment, looking to rent the one I visited. I rented it. I moved in. It had all the furniture still in place, and I turned it into the studio of changing my life. I began to read.
I hurried to the nearby used bookstore (those were always within reach until bookstores began to disappear) andI purchased two books: 1984, and Brave New World, which had come up in that evening conversation. This was a first for me. I couldn't believe I was setting out to read a big book. I was going to do it for myself, not for someone else. I didn't even tell anybody!
I think I was embarrassed to be so inexperienced, and just in case I couldn't finish, I kept it a secret.
I made myself read these books all the way through. I sat in the chair night after night after work, before work, turning pages slowly to accommodate my (still) slow reading speed. It probably took a summer, but I was young and my time was my own, when I wasn't flipping pizzas. I finished both books. Then I kept going.
It changed my life. A year later I enrolled at St. John's College in Annapolis Maryland, the Great Books School. I became a lifelong reader. Within ten years I was reasonably well-read for my generation, but I felt like I was just starting to learn.
It did more than I expected. It introduced me to the rich lives of other people, other times, and showed me clearly that reading was a way of life shared among people I admired.
Reading books is a way of making friends across generations both historical generations and living generations. It amazes me that I can form a type of friendship with writers who have been gone for so long. My life has been shaped by these writers, maybe just as much as people I know and live among.
Looking back, I would tell myself this:
Read a book first, and then make friends with other readers.
This was somewhat easier in the 1980s than it is today. But lots of important things were easier, and they are still important. It just means I have to prioritize and simplify my use of time.
The Neville Jason audio versions are fantastic. A mere 154 hours. ;-)
https://www.readingproust.com/audio.htm
Inspiring Simon. I want to start today!