ON THE MERITS OF READING BOOKS.
I take a break from global insanity.
Going back 86 years.
When I was 11 years old, I contracted a bladder infection. Nowadays, almost any illness is treated with penicillin with quick results, but then, in 1939, this wonder drug was still a few years in the future, so, the cure described was bedrest – 6 weeks – and some dietary directions, precisely what, I forgot, not being in charge of my food preparation.
My doctor, whose father, a retired minister, lived next door, visited me a few times each week, driving a big car, probably took my temperature, and, perhaps looked at my urine.
So, here I was, in front of a large window on the third floor, overlooking the street, always teeming with activity: kids playing hopscotch, kicking a ball, rolling a steel loop, skipping ropes, while vendors on their three-wheel freight-box bikes, loaded with fresh bread, made the daily rounds of their customers. Horse-drawn vegetable wagons displayed fresh produce, and, in the summer, ice cream hucksters shouted: “large cones for a nickel”.
I remember that in those prewar days – May 1939 – a large store was about to open, some Walmart type, down town Groningen, with the curious name of T.A.N.T.E: no idea what the acronym stood for. The day before the Grand Opening, it went up in flames, and, while my older siblings rushed to see the spectacle, I remained bedridden.
However, I had my distractions: books. The corner tobacco store also had a lending library, and my older sisters kept me bringing books, while fetching my father’s daily supply of cigarettes and cigars. Yes, he died of lung cancer at 79, but then the slogan was: smoking is manly.
My mother calculated that I had read 100 books in my convalescence, books about the Boer War, books about the American Indians – Old Fire-hand and old Shatter-hand and that wonderful Indian chief, Winnitou, or something like it.
My grade 5 teacher – the school was just around the corner – would bring me homework, so, really, I was never bored: books were my life, even now.
How times have changed!
Forward to today, and a section from the Toronto-based ‘Globe and Mail’.
“In a world where the internet teems with content and people generate millions of AI prompts daily, it could be argued that the act of reading is alive and well. Unfortunately, there’s a malady hidden by that apparent health.
“Although there are Canadians who read avidly, and some of our authors are world-famous, we are not a nation of readers. Not of books, anyway.
“In 2022, only one-third of Canadians picked up a book every day. And a 2024 survey found that even self-identified readers didn’t read very much. Barely half of them read more than five books annually.
“There’s an important distinction to be made here between the sort of browsing done online and sitting down with a book. An artificial intelligence-generated summary can tell a person what happened in The Odyssey – spoiler, he got home – but that doesn’t replace the value of actually reading the epic poem.
“Reading helps us focus and makes us reflect. It stretches our intellect even as it nourishes it. And the private act of reading can, ironically, help make people better citizens.
So, let me begin with the personal benefits that reading brings. Because they are plentiful.”
Why read books?
Books have the power to transport. While reading about another country is not as illuminating as travelling to it, a book offers a much more affordable sort of visit than a plane ticket. Books are an escape that open the world as they open the mind. And they are the only way that people can journey through ages past.
Reading can educate and inspire. Knowing that others have faced similar situations provides comfort, or solutions. The sense of being part of a greater whole prompts action and promotes humility. Open-minded reading is the antidote to misanthropy.
Books encourage valuable focus in a world trying hard to distract. Research shows that attention spans are dropping. A study published in 2023 found the average adult had an attention span of barely longer than a minute. The ability to focus is like a muscle that can atrophy unless exercised. Reading is a great way to make it stronger.
Reading is also good for the brain. It improves memory and allows for better sleep. It reduces stress and promotes relaxation. It may slow cognitive decline.
Finally, digging into a book is one of the few remaining socially acceptable ways to be quiet and alone. In a loud and busy modern life that demands connection, reading is a reprieve. It is a licence for solitude.
Today we live in crazy times.
Rather than trying to live within the boundaries of creation, rather than adhering to ‘the limits of growth’, we pursue war, and disregard environmental rules. Reading can create awareness and teach us God’s directives.
And those directives are? Prepare our lives for eternity.
Hi. I too read the books about South AFrica, the Boer War, and I also read the books of Karl May, Winitou etc I understand that he himself never visited North America.
I also for years had the notion the books were set in the American West, Utah, etc. but apparently more appropriately to think Virginia, maybe as far West as Ohio.
Good to see you are still well and active. You have settled in by now, and possibly re=connected with a few people you knew in the 1970s. Like my father, you are also of an age that not only family, but many friends, contemporaries have passed away. My very best wishes. Harry Houtman MA CFP now through unethical scheming, underhanded manipulation, totally out of Link Charity.
Be sure to change my email address. It came up as linkharity, so someone else is reading them!