Real Books Make You Look Smarter
“Fill your house with stacks of books, in all the crannies and all the nooks.”
Dr. Seuss
Today’s thought is brought to you by an interaction I had on my lunch. I know QT is a stereotypical STL thing, but hot diggity dog do I love me a QT kitchen. My new position is located within walking distance of a QT, which means I have one of those delectable sourdough grilled cheese sammies like four times a week. $2 buys a lot of cheesy goodness, my friends.
I always have a book with me. Today was no exception, so while I waited for my lunch, I cracked open my copy of The Ghost Brigades (by John Scalzi, naturally) and immersed myself. Unfortunately, I dove a little too deep, and the kitchen attendant had to get loud to get my attention. As I grabbed my lunch, I apologized for being so spacey. She smiled and said, “No, it’s fine. It’s nice to see someone with an actual book, instead of having their nose buried in their phone.”
I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with ebooks and readers and things. It’s miraculous that you could conceivably carry around your entire library in your pocket. But I think there is something about the feel of a book in your hand and the smell of the pages wafting as they turn that is undeniably thrilling. Maybe it’s because I’m not young anymore, or maybe I tried digital books too late. Reading a physical book helps me lose myself in text in a way I haven’t been able to replicate digitally. Whether I’m reading a book, or fanfiction, or an article, it’s like my brain is always acutely aware I’m reading something, whereas when I have something in my hands the experience transcends, like the text is in my head, creating the entire world.
This tracks with my general life experience. For the first four years of my first retail gig, I read on lunch. Didn’t talk to anyone, just sat at the most deserted table and buried my nose in a book to distract myself from the fact I had to go back to work. I heard from more than one coworker at a later date that they assumed I was super smart because all I did was read. This amuses me to no end, because you don’t have to be smart to enjoy reading, and also, they obviously never looked at the book covers. It’s not like I was dragging in The Master and the Margarita or Catch-22. At that point in my life, I was reading trashy vampire novels and paperback mysteries (I’m not knocking either genre, they just aren’t known for their academic value).
Who knew that the virtue of reading a real live book turned you into a real-life I’m Not Like Other Girls trope?
“When I have a little money, I buy books; and if I have any left, I buy food and clothes.”
Erasmus