Conversations with Calliope

Braodway Street Sculpture

Several years ago I started a blog about writing. As time passed, I learned to address my muse as Calliope who has chief responsibility for epic poetry but I decided she could help me with my writing. We talk several times a week about the writing life, my triumphs and challenges. Please join our discussion at www.commonsense-wisdom.blogspot.com.

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Sliding Otter News

August 29, 2009 Volume 1, Issue 16

Wondering Why We Bother to Read Books

Gull Over Dunkirk


Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested.

~Sir Francis Bacon

I recently wondered why people read books. I woke up early one morning trying to recall the exact words of Sir Francis Bacon’s statement which I first encountered in high school. Once I got past my initial adolescent fantasies about a guy named Bacon writing about tasting, eating and digesting, I thought about what he had to say. His words have often returned to me throughout the years since high school.

What sort of books do I taste? These consist of books I read for information. Bacon sees such books as to be read in parts. I find what I need and then move on. I might never read the rest of the book and don’t feel a need to. One example is my thousand page manual on Dreamweaver web development. It turned out to be a treasure trove of useful information but I would not torture myself reading it cover to cover. I’d never surface for months. Life is too short.

Then are books I swallow. Bacon sees these as to be read “but not curiously.” It’s too late to ask him what he had in mind here. He died in 1626. I think he meant that some books are just fun to read. We don’t necessarily learn anything from reading them, but we do enjoy them like we enjoy eating candy. They have more glitter than substance. Mysteries, adventures, humor, and story collections come to mind.

Finally some books are to be chewed and digested. Bacon suggests we read such books “wholly and with diligence and attention.” These are books to take seriously. I have found that these do not yield all their riches in one reading. I like to keep them nearby on my bookshelf for further consideration and rereading. I wrote about two such books in my last column, Bob Fussell”s My Great Life and Thomas Berry’s The Dream of the Earth. Although I have finished both books and moved on to other readings, their messages keep popping up in my thoughts and conversations.

Do some books have more value than others? Are some trash and others gems? Are some more worthwhile than others? Not to my mind. Each book has its own value. Of course, some authors write better than others, no matter what genre of book we are discussing. A book’s value to me depends on the purpose for reading it.

A book I read for pleasure delights me more if it doesn’t become bogged down in information I don’t need right now. I value a book I read for information based on its organization and clarity rather than on its literary style. Thoughtful books enchant me by clarifying issues which trouble or perplex me.

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