Unread Books

Posted 30 November, 2007 in Bookish |

As the year-end “best of” lists begin to make their appearance, I find myself succumbing to a kind of surprised depression at the number of books I haven’t read in the past twelve months. I’m not talking about sleepers, or those quirky, left-of-centre books that are trumpeted by the self-appointed arbiters of taste in the blogosphere (see, for e.g., The Last Novel by David Markson). I’m talking about big, splashy, blockbuster books.

Exit Ghost? Haven’t read it (despite my repeated assertion that I believe Philip Roth to be the best living writer in English). The Yiddish Policeman’s Union? Haven’t read it. Tree of Smoke? Haven’t read it. On Chesil Beach? Haven’t read it. The Post-Birthday World? Haven’t read it.

This from a guy who reads for a living. Of course, that may indeed be part of the problem. It’s not that I haven’t been reading over the past year, it’s more that my time has been spent reading things that are lacklustre at best. Like this. And this. And this.

Far be it from me to complain about my lot in life: it’s a pretty cushy one and, even if it weren’t, it’s one that I have consciously chosen.

Still, how is it possible for a self-consciously obsessed (and obsessive) reader to miss so many of the “best” novels in a given year? Certainly time is one factor: while it may be possible for a film buff to catch all of the major releases in a calendar year, and for a music buff to hear all of the year’s big albums, it is a physical impossibility for one person to read even a significant percentage of all the novels published in any one year.

But a paucity of time combined with an apparently endless stream of new releases necessitates a series of choices as to what one reads and what one ignores. In 2007, these choices have often been predicated upon my perception of what I was supposed to read as opposed to what I actually wanted to read.

In the past year I have read more Canadian fiction than in any year in recent memory. Much of this was assigned to me by various review editors, but in some cases I foisted this burden upon myself. I have been an outspoken critic of the Giller shortlist for years, without having read very many of the books that ended up as finalists for the prize. This is because I know enough about Canadian fiction, and about my own tastes and predilections, to know that these books would likely not have appealed to me. But I felt that this was unfair, and so, perhaps out of a misplaced patriotism, this year I read all five Giller shortlisted books. And guess what? None of them appealed to me.

People who take a contrary position would suggest that this was a foregone conclusion: I had decided I wasn’t going to like these five books before I even cracked their covers. And you know what? These people might be right. I base my reading choices on many factors, among them past experience. And past experience has taught me that most Canadian fiction, especially of the historical variety, is plodding, earnest, and slow. There are exceptions, of course: The Girls Who Saw Everything by Sean Dixon, The Line Painter by Claire Cameron, Between Trains by Barry Callaghan, to name only three. But by and large, most Canadian fiction is, in my experience, quite extraordinarily dull.

More to the point, the time spent reading the latest “important” Canadian novel about women on a farm in the 1800s is time not spent reading other things. The time I spent reading the Giller nominees could have been spent with the new Roth, which past experience indicates I would have enjoyed much more thoroughly. Instead of Vassanji, I could have been reading Michael Chabon. Instead of Elizabeth Hay, Denis Johnson.

In his Globe and Mail column yesterday, Russell Smith points out that the books that get lauded in this country — the ones that become “Heather’s Picks” and wind up on prize shortlists — are generally not the books that get fiction lovers excited about reading fiction:

[I]f you hang around a group of Canadian fiction writers, you will hear them excitedly discussing all kinds of exciting books — all the Lorrie Moores and Michael Chabons of the United States, all the Gautam Malkanis and Irvine Welshes of Britain … all the books that don’t make it to your mom’s book club, the books you can be forgiven for not knowing about if you’re a devotee of Canada Reads. (It will also give you the impression that these Canadian fiction writers don’t have a whole lot of time for the work of their Canadian peers, and that impression may well be correct.)

Therefore, it getting toward the time of year when resolutions are made, here’s mine: In the next twelve months, I resolve that my discretionary reading will be dictated by nothing more or less than what interests me, whether that be a highly touted new work, a crime thriller, or a neglected classic. I resolve to read more of what I want to read and less of what I’m told I’m supposed to read.

It’s an open question as to whether this approach will mean that my personal reading list for 2008 corresponds more closely to the year-end “best of” lists, but I reckon that at the very least it will put me in a better mood for the year ahead.

7 comments to “Unread Books”

Panic, November 30th, 2007 at 12:55 pm:

• Your bit on Eggers (and the like) is spot on.

Panic, November 30th, 2007 at 12:59 pm:

• P.S. Definitely read Bottle Rocket Hearts, from the Quill’s 10 best list. It’s not Giller fiction! ;)

Kerry, November 30th, 2007 at 1:16 pm:

• You are making a fine decision, I think. I only read books I like, or those I think I’ll like because life is short and pleasure is important.

Steven W. Beattie, November 30th, 2007 at 3:25 pm:

• Panic: Do you mean Markson?

Panic, November 30th, 2007 at 4:15 pm:

• No, I mean Eggers. In your linked review (above) of “Bang Crunch” you talk about the “Dave Eggers school [of writing].” I could have been more specific, but what’s the fun in that?

Alex, November 30th, 2007 at 5:36 pm:

• Testify, Steve. I’ve been griping like this in my “year end” reflections for the last couple of years. Zach Wells had a similar post just a week or so ago: http://zachariahwells.blogspot.com/2007/11/procrastination.html. I’m considering putting things on hiatus for ‘08. I had to read the Giller shortlist this year too for a review essay. It wasn’t time well spent.

  The problem is you’re not going to get paid to read stuff you like reading. You say your “discretionary reading” will only be stuff you like reading. I’m assuming that reading for review isn’t discretionary (you can only read new books, for one thing). And aside from that, how much time do you have for reading other stuff? That’s what it comes down to. How many books can you read in a year in your spare time? What if they’re things like Against the Day or The Black Lizard Big Book of Pulps?

  Of course it’s impossible to read more than a small percentage of what you might be interested in any given year. And then what about all the classics you’ve missed that you’ve always wanted to give a try? And then what about favourites you’ve always wanted to return to? When was the last time you read Conrad? Faulkner? etc. All of that is part of the opportunity cost too.

Steven W. Beattie, November 30th, 2007 at 5:47 pm:

• I hear you, Alex.

  No, I don’t consider the books I read for review to be “discretionary reading,” and you’re right that once those are accounted for, there’s not a hell of a lot of time left if one wants to … you know … have a life.

  But maybe next year I’ll not race so much to keep abreast of everything that’s au courant at any given moment, but instead dip back into the classics or reread some old favourites that I haven’t looked at in a while. I’m not entirely convinced that this is a resolution I’ll be able to keep, but it’s worth giving it the ol’ college try.

  As for Against the Day and The Black Lizard Big Book of Pulps, both of those are on my list of books I want to read, but both would seem to require about a month of uninterrupted reading time apiece. At least with the latter, one can dip in and out of it at one’s leisure …

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