MANIC MADNESS: A YEAR IN TRYING TO READ WEEK TWO

WEEK TWO

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Since the shift to the third person, the troubled reader henceforth to be mentioned as TR started biting his nails a little extra, so much so that some of his skin found its way to in between his teeth.

The usual questions of life and what purpose, a reading challenge really served loomed high above like a dark cloud refusing to go or rain.

But more pertinent questions as to how he would continue on his quest were left to be unanswered.

Firstly he wasn’t making progress with the number of pages he had estimated in his head, and like an aimless creature TR  jumped from book to book.

Should the reader be allowed to switch books every other day, isn’t this a problem of plenty? He asked his kindle, his only friend.

The Kindle never replied of course.

Secondly he had been doing many other things apart from reading and these were not things that gave any fulfilment, neither to the soul or any part of his self.

He even tried reading in classes, only hoping the instructors would fail to notice.

But help is always at hand, TR stumbled upon a brilliant website on books, the downside of this was he was reading a lot ABOUT books and not THEM.

It is at this website that TR did come across a brilliant essay by Bryan Vandyke on this whole thing called reading. That made TR a little more hopeful as he looked forward to yet another week.

52 books to read

50 weeks to go

 

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ONE BOOK A WEEK OR OTHERWISE KNOWN AS MANIC MADNESS

The startling story of one boy and a mammoth task along with 52 books

“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies, said Jojen. The man who never reads lives only one.” – George RR Martin

<This project was originally called Man vs Wilde, but apart from my own stupid giggles, it wouldn’t have made much sense>

There is a scene, in fact the very opening scene of the Tamil movie Iru Kodugal (Two Lines) which effectively tries to explain the context of the title. When you have a line, how do you shorten it without touching it?

<Think one minute>

Draw another line adjacent to it, but longer than the existing one.

Simple, not CAT level and all.

Ok, why did I make a reference now, because the whole point of enrolling in a book challenge is to make an existing problem of mine look smaller than the challenge I am about to attempt.

The existing problem of course is the MBA, which will work itself out. <Hopes>

Now let’s get back to the book challenge.

In the beginning of every year, people try and take these book challenges, I have been taking them too, only never even coming close to achieving even half of what I thought I would read the entire year.

Why?

Because 1) I don’t believe in numbers

2) I am quite lazy

3) There are a million other distractions

4) All of the above

All of the above is clearly the answer. Yes, I still think the number of books one reads over a year do not really matter unless of course you are reading something, the act is essential and not the returns.

But wait, I am 25 and the fact that I am inadequately educated and non-conforming to current systems have driven me to a position that my only source for goodness and redemption is through books and all through never having taken up a challenge in life is another driving factor.

You can consider this weekly blog to be something of a self-public shaming, I will of course put up the books I am reading and extent to which I have read them. Truthfully, I promise.

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It will be battle-like, every week I will have to fight against boredom, distractions and procrastination to set some time for reading.

I hope you will join me on this quest (ah! A quest!), along with me is my trusted companion and friend, the Kindle.

I am not afraid to fail publicly, but then I will try not to.

<Inappropriate joke alert>

Sherlock Holmes: “A task is at hand, Watson!!!”

Watson: Which hand?

<Inappropriate joke ends>

That reminds me, one week is already gone this year.

You can tell me what you are reading too, or you can make fun of my choice of books, you can do whatever. Thanks

Update:

Masters of the Word: How Media Shaped History

2% complete

The house of Silk: A Sherlock Holmes novel

8% complete

See you next Thursday, 51 weeks to go.

Also, this is what one guy said it is possible go about this maddening task.

howtoreadmore

Cracked Spines: How to Be Alone

In the Sunday that passed, a popular opinion seeking programme on a vernacular channel posed a question to one of the speakers who happened to be a dean of some engineering college, this weekend the show was about the problems faced by the students and professors in an Engineering College.

Having spent four years in one, I can vouch that, what I did to get this degree for is certainly not engineering. What is taught in these institutions are utterly trivial things which include using pens of two different colors during an examination.

The point I am actually trying to make will make me comeback to the question posed to the dean.

“What is feminism?”

Although one is not expected to give an expert level treatise on the subject, a dean or even say a professor is at least expected to have a single line opinion however skewed or rudimentary on the same, the guy just blew wind into the mike.

Another general question posed was about the last book the professors had read, disappointing for the student who would keep his ears tuned to book suggestions, invariably most of them had read self help books; one elderly gentleman cast strong shadows of doubt when he said he had read books by Shiv Carin; while if he had been more careful in dropping names he would have said Shiv Khera. (Or I’m completely wrong and there is an author called Shiv Carin)

My mind somehow has trained me to look unfavourably on those who read self help books, the name of the genre itself being slightly untrustworthy; if you are taking help from a book then how is it self help?

We will leave that for some other day.

The students on the other hand said, they were reading “The Three Mistakes of My Life” and “I Too Had a Love Story”

Talking about books one has read or is reading, is partly exhibitionistic in nature and partly exclusive. But reading as an activity is entirely personal and almost incomparable, the experience of reading for me is very difficult to reconstruct just like how it is listen to a song and retell it to someone else, so it did irk me when people were asked what books they were reading and after some thought I did give in to the feeling that books are being read at least.

To add insult to injury, another panelist also a professor, claimed that one can learn everything from the internet and you tube and that he had stopped reading completely.

This piece is not a comment on the drastically reducing levels of reading as an activity; it is not within the purview of this article to make such a social comment, but all the same this is much of a lament as to how much reading has fallen out of fashion and how difficult it is to meet someone who has the peace that reading gives.

I was introduced to Jonathan Franzen by way of his recent essay, literally spitting out bile on the visibly growing digital culture, naturally I sought out to read his other non-fiction pieces collected under a volume so brilliantly titled “How to be Alone” which is very much within the scope of this article, the solitary pleasure of the reader.

Acts of personal growth, I believe can only be done alone, without the intrusion or the involvement of others, this may be a majorly immature observation; but it has served very well in my life so far.  Even while seeking out company, only with disappointment and with nowhere to go, I return to my books.

Jonathan Franzen is a slow man in a fast world, someone who is having problems with change; How to be alone, if it should be summarised: is the angst of the reader (and writer, mostly used interchangeably) to be left alone in a boisterous atmosphere, for the reader has understood that there is some peace in reading.

With reading comes its fair share of groups, theories and increasing snobbishness which is true of any such ‘recreational’ activity, but these are just some of the excuses in a largely non reading world. The writer as said before is also a reader who silently understands and goes about his business.

Clearly this is a world of two people, one trying to open his/her minds to another, while the other tries to fill it and both are accustomed to be being alone in the process. Solitary confinement is not much a punishment if one can lose one’s way in a book even amidst hundreds in a traveling carriage.

Being a reader to seek such pleasure is in a way to renounce immediate surroundings and the social chatter that goes endlessly eating our time, eating our time in ways in which we end up knowing more about people than we intend to.

The keystone of Franzen’s book is his essay originally called ‘Perchance to Dream'(popularly known as the Harper’s essay); a comment on the state of the American Novel and in turn on reading itself. Locked into his quarters with a television running Franzen muses on what people will read, when writers have nothing to do but watch television.

Sometimes funny, sometimes warm but mostly like lava scraping the mountain sides, this is a book covered with anger directed at a huddling world that doesn’t pause to think about the happiness that loneliness provides.

Cracked Spines is the occasional allocated space for reading and other such activities.