March 5, 2003
What You Reading?
Reading as Status Symbol

YOU know what I hate? Well, there are many, many things that fall under that heading, of course–too many to list here. But the thing I hate that I'm thinking of right now is being asked what I'm reading. You know, you're talking to somebody, having a conversation, and at some convenient lull they clear their throat and ask "So, what are you reading right now?" Aside from the fact that all I'm ever reading is lurid paperbacks like the one pictured here. How can I possibly answer that question by saying "Currently I am perusing the crusted-together pages of Eastern Shame Girl, you?" I can't, of course, at least I can't and still expect to keep my honorary degrees and personal reputation. So I make something up, like "Right now? Right now I'm reading the bible" or "Currently I'm reading Ulysses for the fifteenth time and carefully annotating it. I'm thinking I might write a scholarly work about it". Of course, I'm not always reading lurid paperbacks. Sometimes I'm reading the backs of cereal boxes.

Still, the question rankles. Why this bothers me isn't so easy to explain. On the surface, it's an innocuous question, akin to ‘what have you been up to' but slightly more specific. Underneath though, I think its implications are arrogant and self-serving. This isn't a question asked out of simple curiosity and a desire to exhibit interest in your loved ones' interests; it's a question designed to flash a little snobbery and focus attention on your own interests. Not to mention your ego.

What's happened some time in the past few years is that for a certain segment of the population–not everyone, by a long shot, but a large and influential group–reading has shifted from being a form of mass-entertainment into an intellectual status symbol. No one has to read to be entertained any more; the personal stereo and handheld computer has done away with those small nooks and crannies of life where electronic entertainment could not reach, leaving these people with no need to read simply to be entertained. Reading then becomes a way to prove how smart they are. Witness, if you will, the steady stream of well-reviewed, boring-as-hell books that rise to the top of the bestseller list despite the fact that no one you or I know buys them. Who's buying this shit? People who want to feel smart. Sometimes I wonder if they actually read some of the PoMo bullshit being spewed out there, or if they just leave them lying around the house in hopes that someone notices and comments.

Which leads us to my unfavorite question: What are you reading? Blow me. The real purpose of such a question is to grunt through my reply and then get the chance to tell me what you're reading, isn't it? It's just a transparent ploy to gain an opportunity to wow me with the erudition and obscurity of your reading list. I'll likely never know if you're actually reading the books you list, or, sometimes, whether they even exist at all. The whole idea is to impress people with the amazingly difficult books on your list, especially after I've told you that I'm struggling through Eastern Shame Girl and having difficulty comprehending the difficult subtext of. . .shame.

Used to be people read for pleasure. Big books, skinny books, cracking good adventure tales and erudite philosophical tracts–they were read for fun, the same way we go to the movies today. Books were portable and resilient, perfect for lugging around with us. Even after television and movies came around to captivate our visual senses, you still couldn't easily drag them to the beach, or on the bus. Books were for a long time the main way you could entertain yourself on the move, and life was good. Nowadays, let's face it, your fucking cell phone plays games. Lacking for entertainment, we aren't. Of course, some people still do read for fun, but there's also an element of reading material as status symbol, isn't there? I mean, who hasn't announced with pride that they'd made it through a really thick and difficult tome, not once mentioning whether they enjoyed the frickin' thing, just taking pride in having consumed it? It's like an intellectual sledgehammer. The hardest part is finding an opportunity to seamlessly work your current impressive reading list into the conversation. After waiting a few fruitless days waiting for someone to give a rat's ass what you're reading, you usually come to the realization that you're just going to have to bite the bullet and introduce the subject yourself. Hence, "So, what are you reading these days, old sport?" Bastards.

Naturally, some of you reading this are thinking that I'm an ass and there's no crime in being curious about the reading activities of your friends and associates. You're right of course. But there's nothing on this web site about being ‘right' or even ‘honest', so bugger off and let me get back to work. Besides, can you honestly say you've never rolled your eyes when someone makes a point of informing you of the massive and difficult book they're reading just for the hell of it? If you can, I'll bet that your friends don't read. If you still want to complain, you know where to find me.

Jeff