Do That Hot, Sexy Thing with Your Lips--Reb MacRath
No, for heaven's sake, I don't mean this:
And no, Lev Butts, I don't mean this:
This is the hot sexy thing with your lips:
That's right, move 'em when you read!
I don't know when exactly I started to question my own reading speed...or my habit of sounding the words in my head, savoring rhythms and diction. Nor can I recall when I first felt ashamed at helplessly reading some sections aloud. I knew that others read far more quickly than I -- some with perfect recall.
I read a book on speed reading not long after college, stung by a stranger's cruel remark about my lipful reading style. I recall trying to master the basic principles: not sounding the words...silently ingesting lines, then paragraphs of type. I never entirely abandoned my efforts or enjoyed any real success. Reading in this fashion was pleasureless to me, while reading my own way brought equal measures of pleasure and shame.
Ah, but I remember my emancipation after reading this great book:
Francine Prose argues brilliantly for the virtues of reading slowly...from a writer's point of view. She focuses in turn on: slow or close reading as a neglected art form...word choice...sentence craft...potent paragraphing...effectively driven narration...nuanced characterization...dialogue...and details, details, details. And you may find your lips moving as you read Ms. Prose, then rush to find more of her books.
But here is the key thing that freed me from attempting to follow the silent and quick: deflation of the notion that gray matter is measured by speed. Teddy Roosevelt is said to have been one of the greatest speed readers. He'd plunder through a newspaper or book, tear out the pages as he raced and hurl them across the room. No further need of them; he had them in his head. When morning came the cleaners arrived with their shovels and brooms to clear the floor of his carnage. But did he get more from a book than turtle-like readers who take their sweet time to get to the heart of their reading? If he was smarter, good for him -- but it wasn't because he read quickly. No man wears a reading crown till he can relate to a brilliant line break as a Julius Caesura...or wrap his lips around a vowel as if it were --Whoops, best not say.
It may take me a month to read Shogun while others can finish in two or three nights. And let them enjoy a laugh at my expense. But, thanks to Ms. Prose, I'm prepared to debate. All right, Speedy, I will ask: what are the strong points of the author's style? what are his or her shortcomings? what can you tell me about the book's structure--halves, thirds or quarters? can you tell me anything about the book's theme or subtle use of symbols? would the book have been better if shorter--and, if so, what would you have cut? how is this mystery/fantasy/epic different from rivals in the genre? Etc.
Let each reader read according to his or her preference. But speed reading in itself is no better than very quick sex on a plane: not bad at all for what it is...but in no way superior to long, loving intercourse with another's body, soul and mind.
Now, then. It's for you to decide. But if you'd rather take your time, be freed to shout with pride:
I dedicate this post to Richard Monaco, whose brilliant short novel Blood and Dreams took me three good weeks to read.
And no, Lev Butts, I don't mean this:
This is the hot sexy thing with your lips:
That's right, move 'em when you read!
I don't know when exactly I started to question my own reading speed...or my habit of sounding the words in my head, savoring rhythms and diction. Nor can I recall when I first felt ashamed at helplessly reading some sections aloud. I knew that others read far more quickly than I -- some with perfect recall.
I read a book on speed reading not long after college, stung by a stranger's cruel remark about my lipful reading style. I recall trying to master the basic principles: not sounding the words...silently ingesting lines, then paragraphs of type. I never entirely abandoned my efforts or enjoyed any real success. Reading in this fashion was pleasureless to me, while reading my own way brought equal measures of pleasure and shame.
Ah, but I remember my emancipation after reading this great book:
Francine Prose argues brilliantly for the virtues of reading slowly...from a writer's point of view. She focuses in turn on: slow or close reading as a neglected art form...word choice...sentence craft...potent paragraphing...effectively driven narration...nuanced characterization...dialogue...and details, details, details. And you may find your lips moving as you read Ms. Prose, then rush to find more of her books.
But here is the key thing that freed me from attempting to follow the silent and quick: deflation of the notion that gray matter is measured by speed. Teddy Roosevelt is said to have been one of the greatest speed readers. He'd plunder through a newspaper or book, tear out the pages as he raced and hurl them across the room. No further need of them; he had them in his head. When morning came the cleaners arrived with their shovels and brooms to clear the floor of his carnage. But did he get more from a book than turtle-like readers who take their sweet time to get to the heart of their reading? If he was smarter, good for him -- but it wasn't because he read quickly. No man wears a reading crown till he can relate to a brilliant line break as a Julius Caesura...or wrap his lips around a vowel as if it were --Whoops, best not say.
It may take me a month to read Shogun while others can finish in two or three nights. And let them enjoy a laugh at my expense. But, thanks to Ms. Prose, I'm prepared to debate. All right, Speedy, I will ask: what are the strong points of the author's style? what are his or her shortcomings? what can you tell me about the book's structure--halves, thirds or quarters? can you tell me anything about the book's theme or subtle use of symbols? would the book have been better if shorter--and, if so, what would you have cut? how is this mystery/fantasy/epic different from rivals in the genre? Etc.
Let each reader read according to his or her preference. But speed reading in itself is no better than very quick sex on a plane: not bad at all for what it is...but in no way superior to long, loving intercourse with another's body, soul and mind.
Now, then. It's for you to decide. But if you'd rather take your time, be freed to shout with pride:
I dedicate this post to Richard Monaco, whose brilliant short novel Blood and Dreams took me three good weeks to read.
Comments
(I’m not saying that action-driven books are in any way inferior, by the way – they too very often repay a close second reading!)
I agree, that when you really want to pause and enjoy the words, you read them aloud - after all, words are meant to be spoken. Their sounds and rhythmns are important.
It also helps to peg them down when your concentration is failing and the eyes are skipping over the print.
When people have occasionally said to me, 'I read your book in one day!' I know they mean it as a compliment. So I try to smile. But inside, I'm crying. That took me eighteen months, I want to tell them.
I'm pretty sure there are now some writers out there on Amazon KDP who write faster than I read.
But for us normal folk, slow is better, at least for the stuff you think worth reading slowly. There's a lot of both fiction and nonfiction I skim. The exception is poetry, with which I start my work mornings. You cannot, really cannot, read a poem fast. (And aloud is of course best.)
Chris, I laughed about your son!
As for mouthing the words, I also do that occassionally, especially when reading dialect. I find it sometimes helps my comprehension tremendously.
P.S. Monaco was tickled pink to know that you mentioned him here, but he was absolutely impressed that you got the Chandler connection in Blood and Dreams. As far as he knows, you and I are the only ones to have caught it on a first reading.