There is a rule I’ve made for myself when it comes to reading. It stems from an observation I’ve made regarding the difference between watching a film versus reading a work of literature. Nothing particularly groundbreaking here, but I believe it’s worth writing about nonetheless. (The world is ending: what is really “worth” anything anymore? Who gives a shit. I’ll write whatever tf I want. Stop bullying me haha).
When you watch a movie in a real theatre, you obviously cannot rewind or fast forward. That is one of the biggest things that is lost at home when you watch a movie on whatever screen or device you happen to use: part of the thrill of watching a movie is letting it wash over you, and you should not have control over it. Whatever happens, happens. You should not have the power to pause or stop and start it in a day or a week, etc. That compromises the integrity of what the filmmaker was trying to achieve, it is disrespectful to the medium, and defeats the whole purpose of cinema, in my opinion. Whenever I watch a movie at home I try to recreate the experience of watching it in a movie theatre as much as possible (fully dark, no sounds or outside distractions), because that’s part of the art form. Just like an art gallery needs the right conditions (proper lighting and space to showcase each piece, for example), people tend to forget that a movie is not something that should be put on in the background while you clip your nails or whatever. If you’re watching it the second or third time and it’s one of your favourite movies, that’s different. But if something comes out and you watch it without giving your full attention to it, then buddy, I’m sorry: you didn’t watch it at all. (Side note: remembering now that I just read an article where Johann Hari talks about how a lot of young people today feel they can do several things at once, but they really aren’t due to how our brains work. A person’s brain has to recontexualize everything they do when they switch from thing to thing so often, and it is just mental juggling with no real deep focus. When this type of focus is lost the meaning of what you’re doing changes. That is the same thing I’m describing here with film). A human being cannot pause a movie, return to it later, and have the same experience they would have had if they let it do its thing. You’re not even the same person you were an hour ago, it makes no sense to do that.
Not only does it go against the art form to watch something without human intervention and letting it exist as its own piece, one of the biggest reasons you should let a movie “happen” to you is because that is how real life itself works as well. If you’re watching a film in an attempt to lose yourself in it, you should also be following the laws of nature as you do in your real life. It’s obviously impossible to time travel in your life, or to pause your day like you’re Adam Sandler in Click or some shit. Film works best when it’s like life in that regard. I know that not every movie is a documentary and it’s not real life, but you should still strive to treat the conditions in which you view it as reality because that’s kind of what the filmmakers and actors are setting out to do: make you believe a story and world is actually happening for 120 minutes. To “pause” it is like saying, “Fuck you guys, this is all fake anyway, it doesn’t matter.” It’s like aborting a precious, sweet little baby before you even gave it a chance to live👶🥺😭😂.
So now that I’ve proven this concept works with film and I’m not just talking out of my asshole, I will now “circle back” to the beginning, and the whole purpose of this piece: I believe reading should act in the same way I’ve described. A lot of times people are taken aback by the sheer heaviness of a book, and how challenging it may appear. The way around this is to simply treat reading it like life: you pick it up and read a certain amount each day, and keep going even if you don’t particularly understand what the hell is going on half the time. For example, there are times when I read certain Russian novels where I get confused about which character is which, and why they’re there. Or why they are even important. There are times when I read where I straight up feel like a dumbass. That is perfectly fine, and no one should beat themselves up for it, as not understanding something is part of the process IMHO. I often read reviews for novels online and it’s a common complaint: “I got confused in the middle, and I didn’t know what was happening anymore, so I stopped reading. Should I keep going? Does it get any better?” These are the wrong questions to ask and the wrong approach to have. Russian novels are notorious for having 900 million characters, and this is only natural. But if you treat it like a movie, it is easier and you just have to read and keep going. Another way to think about this is: pretend you are a fly on the wall, observing something unfold before your very eyes. You’re just in the room watching, that’s all. It doesn’t matter if you understand what’s going on all the time, your job is just to watch.
To put this concept another way, in one of my favourite films of all time, Inherent Vice, Doc Sportello (played by Joaquin Phoenix) says at the beginning of the film to Shasta Fay, “Don’t worry: thinking comes later.” This is a great way of putting it. Or think about the phrase, “Let the chips fall where they may.” It’s like having a big handful of marbles, and you toss em all up into the air, let them fall on the ground, and act as an observer without allowing yourself to control the moment in any way. Then you can see exactly what happened after, when it’s all over. When you to make sense of the moment afterward in retrospect, it becomes a lot easier and fun.
It's really no different than real life: you have no control how things happen, and you shouldn’t view a work of fiction as a “work of fiction,” even though it is one. Look at the text as a real thing you’re part of every time you open the book, something unfolding as you go along. To go back even a page is kind of a crime. If you have to reread something too many times, something is lost and you’re not reading properly. Maybe try again another day. I hope that doesn’t sound too cynical, but it’s similar to the experience of the flow state of working on some kind of creative project: when there’s too much resistance in your reading something is clearly lost. Once again, you can always go back and reread or figure out whatever you were confused by when you’re done reading it the first time.
That brings me to my final point, and the other rule: you can underline stuff, and make notes in the book for later. But once you have completed that, move on immediately. Never linger and dwell on a certain passage, because like I said: it’s like pausing a movie. The magic of the art disappears whenever you get in your own way.
