Reading Books and Evolving Perception

I have had a book on my bedside table every night since 1986. I have never not been reading a book in all those years. In my 20s, I even kept two books going at once — fiction at night and nonfiction in the morning. These days, though, nonfiction feels too heavy for me.

I was a very ambitious reader in my 20s. Partly because I worked in a bookstore and am an idealist, but mostly because I had the mental energy to do it. I have heard that from others, as well. The mental energy you were once able to put toward reading all of Proust or Le Mort d’Arthur, now as someone older has to go to thinking about your job, what you are going to have for dinner, car maintenance, your health and the health of your family, the problems your friends and family ask you to help solve — the weight of the world.

The “Catch 22” (if we are being literary) is that when we are in our 20’s, while we are able to read complex books and even zip through them, a lot of us aren’t able to catch all the nuances. And that’s fine.

I really did read all of Proust between the ages of 22 and 28. For those who aren’t familiar with his work, it is notoriously complex not only because the sentences themselves can sometimes last a whole page, but also because the narrator does A LOT of reflection about his own thoughts and emotions. When I looked up a description of his major themes, I was surprised to see that I got most of them.

I don’t remember much else about the books except they ate a pastry called Madeleines, which sounded delicious.

The point is, that in reading those books in my 20’s it shaped how I see the world in broad strokes. I was able to see the major themes even though I may have not understood some of what I was reading. This is an example of how our brains work when we are younger and they are still developing. We don’t have the past experiences to compare things to that allow us to notice everything that is going on.

Now that I am older and go back to read some of what I read in the past, I often experience the book differently because more has happened in my life that I can compare it to. I’ll notice that there is a sub-story going on that I hadn’t been aware of before.

The same is true for most forms of art. Even if you don’t fully understand what you’re looking at initially — at any time in your life — take what you can out of it at the moment. You’ll remember seeing, hearing, reading that piece of art, and over the years, you’ll (consciously or subconsciously) compare it to what’s currently going on. Then you’ll go back and look at that art again and think, “wow, there is so much more there than when I first looked at it!”

When we’re experiencing art, all we can do to understand what the artist is telling us through their painting, music, writing, performance or any other type of art, is compare it to what we know about our own experiences. The more experiences we have to compare it to, the more you can get out of it.

Your experience of art is a living thing and is interwoven with everything else that happens to you. You can see, hear, or read something and the echoes of it can surface throughout your life. You’ll experience a new piece of art and be reminded of something you saw years ago and think “this is like that” and realize the art you experienced in the past was referring to this very thing you just saw — or vice versa.

So, while you may not always have the mental bandwidth to fully understand what you’re reading, seeing, or hearing, your brain is keeping notes of at least the broad outlines of what you’re experiencing. Keep paying attention to art and life and you’ll learn something eventually — even if it takes years to do so.

I can’t read the more difficult “heavy” literature anymore. Recently, I have been drawn to Stephen King and Agatha Christie. Those more “fluffy” works satisfy my brain’s desire to be told stories, and while I’m reading, I store away their visual allusions, allusions to folk tales, and classic literature, music, and movies, and what they say about people and their lives. I’ll remember them when I am once again able to read more weighty books and I’ll remember them when I watch and listen to the movies and songs they refer to and through my days living in the world.

Art is a big, constant organism. It is the way people talk about what has happened to them and how they see the world. It is multilayered and complex. It all refers to other art, history, life, and your own experiences. It isn’t just a visual thing or a nice story — it is the story of humanity. Everyone’s experiences are always adding to it.

Keep paying attention, keep participating in art, and don’t worry about not understanding everything right away or just seeing what’s on the surface. That’s how we learn.