Friday, June 11: Bandersnatches
READ MY LIPS
by Steven Steinbock
My lips don’t move when I read. But if you watch carefully, you might catch a slight movement of the mouth muscles. People often bandy that about as an insult. “His lips move when he reads” is another way of saying that someone is uneducated or a poor reader.
Well, read my lips! I read slowly, but I’m not stupid.
Not only does the proverbial tortoise win the race, he gets to enjoy the scenery far more than the hare.
Lately I’ve had several similar conversations with people. It always starts with an apologetic and embarrassed, “I’m not a very fast reader.” But often when I push I find that these people are not only wise and well-read, but they have a musical appreciation of words.
I spoke with Jeffery Deaver a couple weeks ago, just before the announcement that he’d be penning the next James Bond novel. I didn’t ask Jeff if read slowly or rapidly, but I can conjecture. He told me:
I like the economy, the lyricism of words. I like the necessity of thinking about what you’re going to write before you write it and I like the way words go together. I like the combined impact of form and content. Style is aural. There’s just something about a good turn of phrase, not in a clever punning way, but in that it just sounds nice.
By contrast, there are people who devour books like potato chips. They flip the pages with the rapidity of a baseball card being riffled by bicycle spokes. And damn it, they actually absorb most of what they’re reading. On the whole, I think people who read that way have better retention than I do. On the other hand, what those people are missing is the harmony of a good sentence.
People who read quickly don’t seem to be bothered by stilted, stiff prose. A clunky sentence written with a tin ear leaves me cold. But such things don’t bother the fast reader. I’ve also noticed that among fast-readers there are a high proportion of people who can’t pronounce for shit. And when they write, their prose is often stiff and stilted. It’s possible to see and understand the words, but still not hear them.
There are left-handed people and right-handed people. There are those who prefer automatic transmission and those who only drive manuals. There are those who buy raisin bagels and those who have to pick out the raisins when that’s the only kind of bagel left in the basket. People can adjust, but they can rarely change their natures.
It is my nature to read words at approximately the same speed as I would if reading aloud. When I read dialogue, I hear the voices. (And no, they’re not telling me to kill Velma).
If I must, I can read quickly, letting the image of the words bypass my aural senses and go directly to the brain. But it’s not as much fun. And it isn’t my nature.
As a book reviewer, I’m often put in situations in which I have to read several books in a short period of time. So if need be, I can read quickly. I’ll sit at the kitchen table, lean forward, place my hands on the book, and have at it like a Hassid doing morning prayers. My eyes race across the lines, allowing me to register storylines before I’ve had a chance to lose track of them. That’s not a bad thing, either. But it’s not natural for me.
It’s like using a mouse with my right hand. I’m a lefty. I’m at my computer a lot, and my posture isn’t exemplary. So my left wrist and left forefinger get stiff and sore. When this happens I’ll move the mouse to the right side of the keyboard and give my left had a rest. It’s awkward at first. And I can’t sustain it for much more than an hour. But just like fast reading, I can do it if I have to.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some reading to do.
>I hear the voices. (And no, they’re not telling me to kill Velma).
*gasp!* I almost spilled my coffee! I didn’t know that was an option, Stevie! No more scary reading before bedtime, sugah!
After posting this column, I showed it to my 13 year-old son. Sam has always complained of being a “slow-reader.” In fact, up until 4th or 5th grade, he dreaded reading because he was labeled (or labeled himself) as such.
But something clicked for him a couple years ago, and he loves reading. He doesn’t cover as many pages as many of his classmates, but he has an exceptionally well-developed writing voice. I think that his skill at writing comes from the ear he has developed from reading at an aural pace.
Steve – It’s the same with me. I read slowly for several reasons, poor eyesight being only one.
Like you, I love to savor good prose (if it’s present). It’s the “aural” component of the writing that can lift a mediocre plot to a higher level. The best mystery authors – in fact, the best AUTHORS – have that knack.
And as a southpaw I’ve had to resort to switch-mousing on occasion as well.
A most interesting piece. My approach to book reviewing is similar to yours. Given time, I’ll read slowly, which is my preference, but I can accelerate if I have to because of an impending deadline.
Jon, that brings up something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about! I need to catch up with you.
Nice. I agree, there is music in a good sentence, and skimming it is like playing a 33 at 78.
I used to be able to read a book in two hours, but somewhere as an adult, I lost that ability. I agree with Steve that when I could read rapidly, stilted Victorian prose didn’t bother me.
But I also agree that I used to read like novels were fast food. Now I slow down and savor, so perhaps I didn’t lose anything at all.
Stephen, I like the 33 1/3 on 78 rpm analogy. When I speed read, sometimes that’s how I feel. But I think for the process of reading aurally versus reading optically, a better analogy might be analog (no pun intended) versus digital. In one mode, we pick up the sound along with the meaning, and in the other mode, the meaning is lifted right up in one big memory sweep.
Leigh, I see what you’re saying, but with Victorian prose I’m more inclined to slow down and enjoy the sound. If you read Victorian prose like that, you can almost hear the waltzes and quadrilles in the words.
When I read a novel or short-story, or book of nonfiction I like to wallow in it. Racing through it never held an appeal to me. I am reading to enjoy myself after all!
Blogs are stupid. But I happen to love this one.
I don’t get why people would want to read 200 word blurbs with no substance that often re-hash CNN reports or crap from a gossip magazine.
But this one. The only blog I read regularly is a joy to read for the very reasons listed in this post. It’s a turn-on to read words strung together so beautifully they roll right off the tongue (if you read aloud) or create a symphony in the brain (if you read silently).
Thank you guys for giving us something on the net that isn’t a billboard or an obvious marketing ploy.