Dream Land

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

The Feeble Resurrection

It's far too easy to take for granted your ability to read something as banal as this. After all , you've probably been bombarded with such gobbledegook, well... since you learned to read. (You remember that, don't you? That one day when everything clicked and you finally figured out how to pronounce the word "eucalyptus" from that tube of eponymously named cream you found in the dressing table drawer? Didn't think so... )

But then it's perfectly normal to take for granted things that now come easy but were once hard. Learning a bike.  To successfully skim a stone. To play the piano or glockenspiel. Maybe even learning to tie your shoes belongs on the list. You might even say there's something peculiar about mustering a skill that seems at once so fundamental, yet is absolutely alien and arbitrary. Whose true value lies not in the skill per se, but in the discipline it requires to master. And in the character it will develop through its messy and often frustrating practice.

But isn't this what reading is about ?

While it's easy to make the case that reading opens up of worlds of knowledge and insight, most books and magazines are rarely worth the paper they're printed on. ( And let's not even get started on all of the completely valueless advertisements and sales poppycock that will make full contact with your eyes over the years.) The fact is, the majority of what's published is of dubious quality. At best it's mildly informative or escapist; at worst, it's merely a time vampire.

Think about it.

How many books are there that you've read over the years that you really remember ?

Umm.. Let's see... Five, maybe? Seven ?

What about newspaper articles? Essays? And the especially groan-worthy Op Ed piece ?

Chances are, with probably a few exceptions, you can't remember most of these, either. Which points to the fact that the point of reading is rarely about the specifics of what you're reading, and most often about the simple fact that you're doing it. Reading, after all, is a habit that connects you to the inner lives of others. It helps you better understand the human condition. It keeps you up-to-date on all of the latest political and economic funny business. ( Not to mention the latest Kardashian husband du jour, or the number of young'uns in the Pitt-Jolie kiddie gaggle.) All of which is to say that reading keeps you connected to the world at large.

And what could be more important that that ?

Well, there's this.

Reading is what enables the brain to make connections between seemingly unrelated facts and ideas. In other words, reading provides the fodder that helps unlock the human imagination. And without that, none of the things that are preventing kids from reading as much would exist. No imagination would mean no iPads. No Smartphones. No video games. No YouTube. No TV shows. No movies.

Which is rather ironic if you stop to think about it.

Because so much of the technology that is captivating children's attention and eating into their reading time also has the power to restore the habit of reading to its proper place in the development pantheon.

A simple search on Google puts it like this :

Amazon says it has 1,757,621 eBooks available for the Kindle gadget; Sony says it has 2,000,000+ eBooks ready to go; and Barnes & Noble puts their figure at over a million. Surely your local library can't fit that many titles. Nor can the shelves in your home. But the tablet on which your little one incessantly plays Angry Birds? You can probably stuff that thing full of more titles than even your neighborhood book store can hold. And that's far more books than your child even needs.

So, since the supply and accessibility of books isn't really the issue (and the value of reading, in itself, is pretty obvious) the real trick now is developing the reading habit. This really isn't much of a conundrum , either.

Every few days, provide your son or daughter a bucket and mop, and insist he or she clean the kitchen floor. AT first, your child may be taken aback by such an odd request and actually embrace the novelty of menial labor. But, after a few days or weeks, it will become the inevitable drudgery that menial labor was intended to be.

It is at this point you can give your kid a simple choice; do they want to become the kind of person destined to mop floors? Or the sort who's capable of making it through this rant ?

It's as simple as that, really.

- Lyle Shemer
  JWT New York