One of the things I love about the bookish life is how one thing so often leads to another. This is often true of the interwebs too. Take, for instance, Cynthia Ozick’s review of Saul Bellow’s letters (sadly, the full article is not available online) which prompted a response by Roger Ebert in the Chicago Sun-Times, which was then mentioned on NPR, and is now reaching my bloggy front porch.

Saul Bellow is not the topic. The thread begins with Ozick saying that death is cruel to writers, especially to ones who were considered great while they were alive and then are all but forgotten after they die. She then proceeds to make a list of just some of those writers. While I agree that some of the writers are not often read anymore, I don’t agree that they have been forgotten. It is this list that leads Roger Ebert, yes that Roger Ebert of film critic fame, to muse on what it means to be well read. Ebert, it turns out, is quite the reader and even once thought he might be an English professor.

Ebert declares he has always read for pleasure. He has followed no list or pattern, and yet, reading just for the joy of it has led him to a great many authors and works that might be called important. He has not read all of the authors on Ozick’s list, nor does he feel compelled to. Why should he? I must agree with him. Reading from a list of authors that we are “supposed to” read takes all the fun out of it. This is not to say that lists and projects are bad, they aren’t if the reader wants to read the books.

Ebert considers himself well read, and why not? He has read has read quite a lot. Does having read a lot count as being well read? What does well read mean these days when there are thousands of books published every year and thousands from years past and a limited lifespan in which to read? And if we are going to create a list of the books one should read to be considered well read, you know what kind of trouble that will get us into.

The NPR article reminds us of both our mortality and the mass of material that we have to make decisions about. And we do have to make decisions. We have to decide what we will read and what we won’t read because we can’t read everything. Culling and surrender the article calls it. Culling, the choosing you do, deciding what is worth your time and what isn’t. Surrender, the realization that you don’t have time for everything worthwhile and that “this fact doesn’t have to threaten your sense that you are well-read.”

The article reminds us that being well read is not a destination, a very good point that I admit to forgetting about on occasion. I think we all forget, especially when it comes to the game we have all played at one time or other where we admit what important/famous/classic book we have not read. Why should anyone be embarrassed or feel guilt over a book they have not read? By reading that one book, would I suddenly be bathed in a rosy spotlight at the foot of a staircase descending from the heavens, lined with the ranks of the well read inviting me to join the club? I don’t think so. More likely I’d discover there was another book that I hadn’t read that I suddenly needed to feel embarrassed about.

I like that the NPR article defines well read as “making a genuine effort to explore thoughtfully.” It keeps reading from becoming a sport of one-upmanship and instead frames it as a lifetime journey in which we can, as Ebert does, read only for pleasure.

I must give a shout out to Valerie, coworker and law librarian extraordinaire who sent me the Ebert and NPR links. Thanks Valerie!

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