How Should One Read a Book? (by Virginia Woolf)

Can I possibly quote this entire essay to you?  Actually you can read it here in its entirety, if you like.  I am always very interested in reading about books and reading about reading (if that doesn't sound too strange?).  Woolf's essay starts:

"In the first place, I want to emphasise the note of interrogation at the end of my title.  Even if I could answer the question for myself, the answer would apply only to me and not to you.  The only advice, indeed, that one person can give another about reading is to take no advice, to follow your own instincts, to use your own reason, to come to your own conclusions.  If this is agreed between us, then I feel at liberty to put forward a few ideas and suggestions because you will not allow them to fetter that independence which is the most important quality that a reader can possess.  After all, what laws can be laid down about books?  The battle of Waterloo was certainly fought on a certain day; but is Hamlet a better play than Lear?  Nobody can say.  Each must decide that question for himself.  To admit authorities, however heavily furred and gowned, into our libraries and let them tell us how to read, what to read, what value to place upon what we read, is to destroy the spirit of freedom which is the breath of those sanctuaries. Everywhere else we may be bound by laws and conventions--there we have none."

I especially like that she says each must decide the question of which play is better (or no doubt which novel, or poem or biography).  And I like the idea of "the spirit of freedom which is the breath of those sanctuaries (libraries!)".  I am always going back to that question of what to read.  How to choose.  Woolf goes on to say:

"Most commonly we come to books with blurred and divided minds, asking of fiction that it shall be true, of poetry that it shall be false, of biography that it shall be flattering, of history that it shall enforce our own prejudices.  If we could banish all such preconceptions when we read, that would be an admirable beginning.  Do not dictate to your author; try to become him.  Be his fellow-worker and accomplice.  If you hang back, and reserve and criticise at first, you are preventing yourself from getting the fullest possible value from what you read.  But if you open your mind as widely as possible, then signs and hints of almost imperceptible fineness, from the twist and turn of the first sentences, will bring you into the presence of a human being unlike any other.  Steep yourself in this, acquaint yourself with this, and soon you will find that your author is giving you, or attempting to give you, something far more definite."

She talks about reading novels, biographies, and poetry.  Reading must be done widely.  And then she says "we have only to compare".  You start out as a friend to the author in reading, but become judge after you have finished--as a friend, though, you can't be too sympathetic and as a judge you can't be too severe.  This is not as easy as it sounds.  Once the book is closed you only have the impression of it to compare to the impression from other books.  Maybe this should be left up to the "gowned and furred authorities".  But no!

"We may stress the value of sympathy; we may try to sink our identity as we read.  But we know that we cannot sympathise wholly or immerse ourselves wholly; there is always a demon in us who whispers, "I hate, I love", and we cannot silence him.  Indeed, it is precisely because we hate and we love that our relation with the poets and novelists is so intimate that we find the presence of another person intolerable.  And even if the results are abhorrent and our judgments are wrong, still our taste, the nerve of sensation that sends shocks through us, is our chief illuminant; we learn through feeling; we cannot suppress our own idiosyncrasy without impoverishing it.  But as time goes on perhaps we can train our taste; perhaps we can make it submit to some control."

There is so much more in the essay, and I recommend reading it (a mere 8 pages printed out).  Just as many have said--to be well read you have to read a variety of books--a lot of books, and it has to be a lifelong process.  What it all comes down to, though, she says--and here I am in complete agreement--is essentially reading is its own reward. It is a pleasure unto itself.

Comments

[jenclair]

I like the tactful way that Woolf says, "if that is agreed between us, then I feel at liberty to put forward a few ideas and suggestions." Books are different things to different people, and the same book at a different time in your life adds another alternative. I'm going now to read the entire essay. Thanks, Danielle.

[iliana]

Thanks for the link to the essay. I hadn't seen it before and will most definitely read it.

[Max]

I can't believe I have only just discovered the world of book bloggers online - I'm reading so much, and thinking so much more by seeing what other people are reading, and thinking about the things that come up in their reading as well as the things I come across in my own reading. The link to Woolf's essay is just one example (thanks for that, else I wouldn't have read that for a while). While I agree with Woolf that personal tastes should not be dictated by how others judge, I am increasingly appreciating the value in sharing thoughts on literature and reading, because it enriches the whole reading experience so much more. Personal thoughts and reactions to literature are developed by contact with fellow readers as much as they are developed by being widely read.

[Amanda]

I love this essay. One of my favorite parts is...

"And even if the results are abhorrent and our judgments are wrong, still our taste, the nerve of sensation that sends shocks through us, is our chief illuminant; we learn through feeling; we cannot suppress our own idiosyncrasy without impoverishing it."

[Heather]

You've really made this essay sound so interesting and I like the bits you've quoted. I've printed it out. You've spoken about essays before and I must admit your are really sparking my interest.

[Sylvia]

Thanks so much for this. I loved it! I just had to blog about it too. What a gem.

[Dorothy W.]

I'm going to steal one of these wonderful sentences from Woolf for my own blog -- they are so great!

[Danielle]

Isn't this a great essay? I love reading about reading. I felt like everything I read was worthy of quoting. Is everything she writes this good (at least in terms of essays?)?