We told similar stories, regular visits to libraries, encouragement from parents, homes where reading was valued and encouraged. We also talked about seeing ourselves in books – mostly something that didn’t happen – and whether that mattered or not, concluding that it didn’t put us off, but it was a very special experience to find people like us in the books we read.
Annabel suggested at one point that reading was an escape. I wasn’t sure – reading for me was a way to find out more about the world around me, not escape from it, but after thinking about it, I agreed with her. Reading was an escape – a chance to have full autonomy with no one bossing me around, telling me what to think, or trying to control me in any way.
My aunt disapproved of the likes of Enid Blyton, and wouldn’t buy them for her children. My parents let us read whatever we wanted. It made little difference - both cousins are writers, so am I, my brother has a PhD in English literature.
We also talked about the way that English is taught in schools can actively put children off reading - how the wrong book at an early age can be as off-putting as the right one can be life-enhancing. My animal-loving daughter absolutely hated a class reader when she was about eight which was about shooting pigeons. My son, part of a Carnegie shadowing group, objected to a book about poverty-stricken kids in a developing country, on the basis that the author had ‘stolen’ their story (at 11, he was prematurely woke, sniffing out cultural appropriation instinctively).
But a librarian made a point that I’ve been thinking about a lot.
How would a 22 year old answer these questions?
This is the first generation to grow up with smartphones and a lot of television. Binge-watching Netflix and following Love Island every night wasn’t an option when I was growing up. What kind of a reading identity would I have had if I’d had the range of multimedia choice available now?
The answer is, I hope, that I always would have loved the written word. But it also might be that rather than turn to writing books in middle age, I might have been making videos and writing screen plays at an earlier stage.
Certainly, my children (19 and 23) read less than my siblings and my cousins did. And absolutely, they watch a lot more television.
Will film studies supersede English literature? Is the book on the way out?
I’m already planning my strategy for encouraging future potential grandchildren to be readers.
A future without reading seems bleak – but is it inevitable?
Keren David
3 comments:
Thanks for this post, Karen.
Reading was a refuge for me, somewhere quiet and safe - but also an activity where I was in charge. I enjoyed it. And I wonder sometimes if that doesn't get left out of the equation. Telling children to read a 'good' book, something 'worthwhile' strikes me as a recipe for disaster. It becomes a chore. Homework. Something to be endured. Any time I see a child reading something they like, I'm happy.
I really really hope that reading isn't on the way out. For what it's worth, I've been successful so far in keeping my 9 year old reading for pleasure (though she reads many more graphic novels than I ever did, as you might expect). I think there are a lot of parents like me who are working to keep the focus on kids enjoyment of reading, and giving them choice/control. But it's definitely a battle against various forces.
Post a Comment