An impatient reader

What is the right time to talk about a book? Generally, the reviewers are expected to complete a book and then share their views. I always pity the harsh reviewers as they must be compelled by some force to read through books that they are often not to their liking. Unless you are paid to read fully and review, why would you even complete a book that you start to dislike for whatever reason?

I don’t read a book if I don’t like it. But my dislike of a book isn’t something I can predict before I begin reading. Neither can I estimate the number of pages I need to read before I start getting bored or whatever. Which also means that as long as I am reading the book, I am still quite in love with it. I only put it down when I begin to tire.

There are books that are captivating right up to the last page. Though if I were to really rack by brains, the last time I felt like that all the way to the last page, even last word, was possibly a few decades back when I was still in college. I remember being extremely excited by the last page of ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ where the denouement happens.

Of course a lot of crime thrillers are designed to keep you glued till the end. But increasingly, as I start seeing this as a mere device than something integral to the story, I lose my patience. I have mostly started enjoying the beginning of thrillers a lot more than the end. Recently I was all excited somewhere in the middle of Donna Tart’s ‘The Secret History’ and Tana French’s ‘The Likeness’. But the ending was a drag. Maybe there is something to be said of stopping a thriller before the plot starts to unwind. Let the sense of wonder and suspense remain. Why spoil a good story by trying to force and end?

At the other extreme, there are books that I stop reading after reading just a couple of chapters. This typically seems to be the case with non-fiction. Non-fiction writers feel it’s their responsibility to let us know what they are going to be writing about pretty early on. There is no concept of a climax here. Hence once you know the premise, and even the approach, why continue to read it? Often for the sake of academic rigour and the writers’ own sense of responsibility, they need to go on presenting evidence that makes a strong case for what they are laying out. But I lose interest much before they wind up their tale.

An exception to this approach are the Listicle-style books where each chapter presents a different piece of information almost unconnected with what came before. When these kind of books were still a novelty, I would faithfully trundle through all the chapters. But these days, a cursory glance at the chapter list is often enough to get the idea of what the author wants to say. Unless you want to remember and drop some smart sounding information in a conversation, it’s not always worth your while to read all the way.

This in no way is meant to de-mean the importance of the books I don’t finish. There are books like Simon Sinek’s “Start with Why”, and Martin Lindstorm’s “Brand Sense” that I have never even begun reading. But I understand what they were trying to say. And I am thankful for their perspective which often impacts how I think and even act. Those books literally changed my life. And I didn’t have to read them to get the benefit.

And then there are those books that are so achingly beautiful, that the sheer rapture of words is a near sensual experience. A sort of heady stimulation of the intellect and the sensual. Reading Geoff Dyer’s “But Beautiful”, is like living, smoking and rambling with the jazz greats in a time and space that we have only dreamt of. I finally understood that is meant by achingly beautiful. But even this remains incomplete. Every few months I flip through a few pages. And it sends me on a high. And that’s all I need. It’s like a pack of chocolates that I don’t want to end too soon. Whatever John Berger, Alain de Botton, WG Sebald, Ian Buruma writes I tend to buy and keep and flip through every once in a while. And just a few sips are good enough.

So which are the books that I completely go through? Start to finish straight. The book that I might read through are the ones where the author draws me into a gradual unveiling of his thought. Every chapter feels like a descent into something deeper and more beautiful. Where what came before was just a preparation to understand and appreciate what comes later. You can’t stop in the middle because that’s just not the point. You can’t jump to the end as it will make no sense to you. Something like the Zen and the art of Motorcycle maintenance would fit in here. Theodore Zeldin’s “An intimate history of Humanity” makes the Sapiens look like a kindergarten yarn. Colin Wilson’s “The Outsiders” reaches a very surprising conclusion that ties in everything that was served up till then.

Thankfully, I am more into reading than into extreme adventure. You can always stop where you are and turn back. And begin another journey. Every fresh beginning is exciting and rejuvenates. But since our time is limited there are only a few journeys that can be completed. But that in no way invalidates the incomplete journeys.

And right now I keep carrying around this book of Albert Camus without starting to read. It’s like a conversation that I look forward to start, and don’t want to end. The anticipation is enough for now.