Why do you read what you read?

To relax; mystery, intrigue and Sci-fi. But I still love to read history, bios and sermons of the revivalists. What I don't care to read is Calvin or John Piper. They rile me because of what I see as contorted theology to justify self-worth.

I also like to sit down with a good old classic or nineteenth century book like H.Rider Haggard or Robert Louis Stevenson or Kipling. These guts knew how to tell a story and to raise a conscience.

This is tangential, but I have a colleague who tells me that, when she was growing up, she and her siblings were not only permitted but encouraged to bring a book to the family dinner table and read during dinner. This is incomprehensible to me. I liked to read as kid (though I tended to read volumes of the encyclopedia rather than fiction), and my parents certainly wanted us to be readers; but reading during the family dinner was verboten -- it was considered antisocial and rude, and, after all, once of the purposes of the family dinner was to talk to one another about how our respective days went.

Is there anyone else out there whose parents not only allowed but actually encouraged you to read at the family dinner table?

I recently finished "The Idiot". I chose it because "The Brothers K" is one of my all time favorites and I had never read "The Idiot" before.

I hated it; oh well. The translation was terrible, but then the story wasn't much better imo.

Rod: "but don't know how to break them of it in a practical way, given that during the week, family dinners are next to impossible to have."

Here's how: Dad can't have family dinner with us every night, but when he can, we don't bring a book to the table. We talk to Dad and each other. It's OK to tell him about the book we are reading though.

Reading at the dinner table under the circumstances....there are far worse habits. Maybe a family breakfast could substitute for the family dinner. Eating dinner with the television on, however, is entirely out of the question. I had to be a real witch about this rule when I became a wife and step-mom.

For what the Germans call "Trivialliteratur" I like to read mysteries and science fiction, though I don't read as much of that as I used to, mostly because I seldom buy it and the library—or what's left of it after Katrina—doesn't have a lot of it. For non-fiction, I prefer books on astronomy, cosmology, and early history or pre-history. Currently, I'm reading _The Terra Cotta Army_, some cozy mystery by a writer I never heard of, and a book on Old English and Old Icelandic gnomic poetry. (Mysteries & such get read during t.v. commercials.)

Why do I read what I do? For relaxation, enjoyment, & to learn new stuff.

Well I just have to give my say here and it is politically incorrect.

I read nothing that conflicts with my essential values system. I long ago abandoned the quest to know it all and now read only what is supportive.

If it is a travelog it must be about a place that interests me.

If it is poetry it must support my ideas and not conflict.

If it is philosphy it must further my thoughts on a subject that I already care about.

If it is politics there must be a thread of linkage to my fundamental beleifs. If it conflicts I will not even consider it.

I read nothing by an author I do not know that makes derogatory comments about my civilization or my religion. To be able to do this I must already have trust in the wisdom of the writer or I randomly read paragraphs and if I sense the tendency is out of sorts with me I put the book face backward on the shelf of the store. (My personal method of protest.)

If a title interests me I research the author before investing time and money. Generally I read what I pick up from authors I trust and value. I allow my present reading to determine where I go next.
I have a list of honored writers whose advice I will take. It is now very difficult to enter my entourage of prefered writers. I simply refuse to anymore be polluted by the minds of others for more then a minute.

If it is written by a woman I really scrutinize it before I will consider it. Generally a female writer, unless she has already been given approval by someone I trust, will not likely get on my reading list. Not because I do not like women but because most that write have proven themselves so not worth my time. That being said there are books by women that I enjoy but not many.

I now do all buying on-line so I need not be abused by the stores choices of books for display. I have spent too many dismal times after perusing a bookstore and leaving it quite bored. The big two bookstores are not bookstores to me but places where pop media goes to hawk its wares. I do not like having to deal with the arrogance of stores and their merchandizing technigues trying to get me to buy what I do not want to even know exists.

I actually tend to seek out works that conflict with my beliefs and ideas -- incidentally, this pattern holds up in my choices of blogs and political writings as well. I don't understand the need to be patted on the back and told how right I am for agreeing with an author. I'm much more prone to learn something by being told "you're wrong and here's why". The way I look at it, if my position is still standing at the end of my interaction with a book or essay, then it's probably a pretty solid one. If the author has caused me to seriously reconsider previously held ideas -- I have some more work to do, but I certainly consider it worth the effort. The way I look at it, I'd rather uncomfortably right than comfortably wrong.

I graduated from college two years ago and it is only just now that I can read beyond what is "good for me". Just the other day I checked out a compendium of short stories about Christmas published in 1945. Or I sometimes prefer children's classic fiction. Light, brief, and heart-warming without nausea-inducement.

Otherwise, Rod, we read the same things. Pollan, Berry, Kunstler and so on. I commiserate with the book-glut: I work in a university library. And I can suggest new book purchases. My office is right in front of the history section. Sigh.

I read about 50/50 fiction and nonfiction. With fiction I tend to be more interested in character than in plot. I like things that have a psychological/moral dimension. I don't often read 'escapist' fiction, but when I do, it's usually mysteries, or something humorous, like Wodehouse. I try to mix up my fiction reading between new stuff and classics. Even though I usually like fiction that deals with "ideas," I avoid preachy stuff like the plague.

With nonfiction I also like things that are idea-driven, whether they're historical, philosophical, religious, or political. Again, I mostly stay away from the polemical and the preachy.

I love following trails from book to book: one author quotes or refers to another's book, then I follow up with that one, only to find more to chase down.

Although I've slowed down somewhat in my book acquisitions, I still probably own more than I will ever read.

About 2/3 of what I read is non-fiction, the rest is fiction. The subject matter of a non-fiction book is what usally draws me to consider buying and reading it.

These days, I read many books related to religion, especially to fundamentalism. I also read non-fiction books on psychology, politics, current events, and biography. I especially enjoy memoirs and love really good fiction.

Usually the title, the jacket copy, the cover art and the subject matter must attract me.

If I start reading the first page (especially non-fiction) and think the writing style is accessible and interesting, then I may pick up the book. Sometimes I've heard about or read about the book from someone else, and sometimes I've seen it in a book store and thought about buying it for a while before getting around to actually shelling out my hard-earned money.

I am addicted to buying books, some of which I get about half-way through, and some of which I finish. Depending on my mood, I switch from serious books to fun books.

"20th century fiction from Catholic, Anglo-Catholic, or Catholic but they don't know it yet authors (primarily Inklings, Waugh, Percy, O'Connor, and Cormac McCarthy)."

Loudon, as a big fan of the writers you mention, allow me to recommend one who is of the same spirit, if not the same religious persuasion -- Mark Helprin, who is a conservative Jew. Read his book of short stories called 'The Pacific,' and his masterpiece novel 'A Soldier of the Great War.' Along with Wendell Berry, he's my favorite living fiction writer.

Hey, Rob G, we have something in common! I love Mark Helprin's fiction, too.

This topic should have been called "You Are What You Read," in honor of the horridly fascinating BBC America show, "You Are What You Eat!" Visit people's pantries, look inside, check out the appalling effects of their consumption, shudder!!

Ever since I graduated from college, I read what I want--and I have great trouble reading anything that I feel is going to do me good. When I was in junior high school, my father tried to interrupt my pursuit of science fiction and the fantastic by ordering me to read the Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin as a corrective. This only created an aversive reaction to anything introduced by the words "you really must read this." "Yeah? Make me!" my inner child responds.

I haven't seen anyone mention friends as a reason for reading. I've read things I wouldn't have chosen because they were given/lent by a friend, and I had to read them so we could discuss over coffee. Sometimes this just doesn't work--e.g. Jan Karon! So not my thing! A helpful friend recently lent me "Mountains Beyond Mountains," by Tracy Kidder and "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle," by Barbara Kingsolver. How very crunchy . . . . Another friend recently gave me an advance copy of "A Prophet in His Own Land: A Malcolm Boyd Reader," forthcoming from White Crane Press.

Other reasons for reading things: I have a set of tracks running in the back of my mind that relate to what I laughingly call "research" for my fiction. Once I get into one of these things, it never really goes away, even after the novel is finished. Thus I have ongoing interests in volcanic activity, marine biology, genetics, war memoirs, Deaf culture, swordsmithing and early metallurgy, torture and brainwashing . . . . It's a rich, random life. Currently on that stack are "The Tears of the Cheetah: The Genetic Secrets of our Animal Ancestors," by Stephen J. O'Brien, and "Uriel's Machine," by Christopher Knight and Robert Lomas.

Other proximate causes of what I read include what catches my eye at bookstores I habitually walk past or into. It has been said that there's a library angel who will lead you to the book you need at any given moment. I've experienced the guidance of this angel. Several years ago I saw a copy of Marilyn French's "From Eve to Dawn: A History of Women." It was four volumes, and I was traveling, so I didn't buy it. And cursed the day, because I then forgot its name and couldn't find it. I finally got a copy last month. Victory! And it's like crackerjack.

Then there's reading things in my field--what a concept. While on vacation, I read "The Margarets" by Sheri S. Tepper, and "The Bird Shaman" by Judith Moffett. Which I consider an important book that should be read by everyone who's concerned about the fate of the Earth--though I know that most of you won't touch it because it's science fiction. By a woman. Oh well. It's the third book in her series, Tales of the Hefn on Earth, and it's about the intersection of ecology and human psychology. With aliens, time theory, petroglyphs, and highly apposite quotes from good poets. I'm currently trying to get time to re-read the first two books, "The Ragged World," and "Time Like An Ever-Rolling Stream."

I pick things up at science fiction conventions because they are mentioned on panels and sound interesting, or because I see them in the dealer's room and I want them. On the stack from my last con visit: "Endless Things," the long-anticipated final volume in John Crowley's Aegypt cycle. Anyone who likes Robertson Davies and Mark Helprin should try John Crowley. I also bought "A Sense of Wonder: Samuel R. Delany, Race, Identity and Difference," by Jeffrey Allen Tucker. Don't even try to read this one. The gay, black, semiotic truth is out there . . . but you can't handle the truth. And I bought "Rhetorics of Fantasy," by Farah Mendlesohn.

And OMG, how could I forget the looming category of Things My Father Sends Me. Like back issues of The Weekly Standard and the Times Literary Supplement. Plus all the books he covets but can't put in his own house because it's already too full of books. If anyone wants a book on Gothic architecture, let me know and I will send it to you. I have several . . . .

Then there are the books Mr. Sig buys and from which he reads bits to me until I feel that I too must read this book. Currently, "Thin Ice: Coming of Age in Grand Rapids," edited by Reinder Van Til and Gordon Olson. Must reading for crunchycons who can't understand why anyone would leave their home town . . . . And "The Great Lakes: The Natural History of a Changing Region." Again, absolutely splendid book, vital knowledge of one of the most beautiful and important ecologies in our nation, very crunchy.

So, do you feel yet as if a bookshelf has fallen on you and crushed you? Because I could go on . . . ; )

Sig, I love your comments, and will keep a copy of your book recommendations. What you said about your father reminded me of my own father lambasting me as a teenager because I was reading the "Angelique" books (by Sergeanne Golon aka Serge and Anne Golon).

Today, I have every one of these wonderful books, all of which are out-of-print, but which I tracked down on-line or from visiting used bookstores.

One memoir I highly recommend to everyone here is "A Girl Named Zippy" by Haven Kimmel. I gave it to my brother for Christmas, and this is not his kind of book. He loved it, and immediately gave it to his wife to read, and she also loved it. I read during summer vacation last year.

Summer vacation is another way that I decide what to read - a period of time when I look for fun books, not heavy books.

"What are the questions you ask before deciding whether or not a book is worth your time?"

Did G. K. Chesterton write it?

Jeez, Chesterton people are worse than Ayn Randers. : )