Liana Riley is a political science junior and Mustang News columnist.
Did you forget about books? Because I definitely did. The pages that once held my favorite personifications grew dusty. I let the Judy Blume novels that assisted me through my formative years slip away into some dark crevice of my memory. The five-hour lines I would wait in for the newest installation in the Harry Potter series to come out became unfamiliar. J.K. Rowling would consider me a disgrace.
I only forgot, however, because no one was testing me on my knowledge of horcruxes or how many times Harry inevitably triumphed over Lord Voldemort. At some point in our adulthood, it is no longer a virtue to be a voracious reader or to revel in the wonders of fiction. Instead it is far more valuable to expand upon our knowledge of current events, statistics and real-world applications.
Thus a disproportionate influence is wielded over us, allowing us to forget about our books.
This summer I experienced a transformation similar to the Glorious Revolution of 1688. I read everything. 100 Years Of Solitude? Check. Freakonomics? Finally got to it. Anna Karenina? No, I will probably never read that.
My reaffirmed love for recreational reading began with the purchasing power of Amazon. I, a recently established Amazon Prime user, discovered the abyss that was Amazon’s books department. I clicked and there appeared thousands of sleek hardcovers luring me and my debit card to the checkout button. I was on the cusp of literary greatness.
Books, glorious books. An old friend, a sweet companion, a kindred spirit. The magic I forgot about whilst locked away in my dorm room freshman year cramming between GEs. The fiction I never read during quarters compiled solely of non-fiction text. Finally, I rediscovered the joys of walking through Barnes and Noble seeking out my next conquest.
The way Gabriel Garcia Marquez captured the rise and fall of the Buendia family with such excellent use of both hyperbole and reductionism in 100 Years of Solitude allowed me to forge a connection with 400 pages worth of tragedy and joy belonging to people I had never met and places I would never be.
I found a connection to my 10-year-old self through a literary vessel this summer. I could feel the anticipation I had experienced in picking up Judy Blume’s Are You There God, it’s Me Margaret being renewed. Knowing that there were entire worlds and narratives that were unbeknownst to me guided me to some of my favorite novels. When I read Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five, the idea alone that there could be aliens from Tralfamadore or that time was not linear left me with an unprecedented amount of intrigue.
I was nervous about how relatable this article would be. Do people still read? If they do had I just been utterly slacking, minimizing my reading to one book a quarter if I was lucky? Or has reading been supplemented by social media click bait and easy-to-digest articles? These were the questions on my mind when returning to school. I don’t want to sound as if I am on some spiritually enlightened plane now that I read sporadically. The point of my musings is not to tell you all that I know all of the SAT words now.
But we sacrifice so much when we forgo reading for pleasure. Our vocabularies and attention spans become fickle, untapped resources which could be enhanced given the opportunity. There is something to be said for an articulate, eloquent and well-spoken student body, but these are paltry benefits compared to the internal reward of reading for oneself.
Most college students just aren’t willing to devote the time, and understandably so.
“With the cost of textbooks and the amount of reading there is every night, recreational reading is absolutely the last thing on my mind at the end of the day,” sociology junior Alexandra Christie said. “If I’m going to do something for fun it would consist of watching Netflix or hanging out with friends.”
These limitations on our free time should actually increase our reading, not hinder it. Reading has a multitude of benefits, especially for college students seeking internships and job opportunities that require candidates with multidimensional assets.
It is true that we spend inconceivable sums of money each quarter on textbooks so dense and dry they could be equated to flipping through a DMV manual for fun. But we should not let these tasks discourage us from reinventing what it means to read in college.
I have compiled a list of my favorite reads from this summer, I hope that my selections are deemed worthy of your time.
- Modern Romance: Aziz Ansari
- Beloved: Toni Morrison
- 100 Years of Solitude: Gabriel Marquez
- Outliers: Malcolm Gladwell
I felt invested in each of these. It pulled me out of my reading recession, fostering a personal Renaissance, which I am grateful for.
And if there’s a Cal Poly book club, can I join?