We Knew How Violent Reading Can Be
I was trying to describe the ennui that follows the completion of a good book to Advisor, who responded by loaning me Hélène Cixous’ Three Steps on the Ladder of Writing. Behold:
Not everyone carries out the act of reading in the same way, but there is a manner of reading comparable to the act of writing—it’s an act that suppresses the world. We annihilate the world with a book. You take the book you have opened, either knowingly or unknowingly, but often with an intimation that this book may be an instrument of separation. As soon as you open the book as a door, you enter another world, you close the door on this world. Reading is escaping in broad daylight, it’s the rejection of the other; most of the time it’s a solitary act, exactly like writing. We don’t always think of this because we no longer read; we used to read when we were children and knew how violent reading could be. The book strikes a blow, but you, with your book, strike the outside world with an equal blow.
Yes. Exactly.
Posted 28 June 2007
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I find that this is my experience when I read books, and am I weird that I’m bothered by it? At least when the setting, story or characters are disturbing. I’ve always been hyper-sensitive to my surroundings, and I’m not very able to separate myself from them.