Must read, the books will eat me
I'd forgotten, a little, what it means to spend so much of one's day absorbed in reading. Not that I haven't had a few days of lengthy reading over the summer, because I have, but there is a sizeable gap between what "reading" means in a summer context and in a school context. (As always, I will reference my English department graduation address as a measure of what "reading like an English major" means.)
The reading I'm doing now is different from (though by no means lesser than!) the reading I did over the summer. I'm reading things now because I "have" to, not entirely because I want to -- though of course I did sign up for the classes, so of course I did have some say in the matter. And I'm reading things with deadlines imposed. Over the summer, if I started a book and it wasn't doing it for me, I'd put it down. I'd go do something else for a while. Then I'd come back. If it still wasn't doing it, I'd leave it a little longer. But that's no longer really an option. Only three of my four English classes have met so far, and I already have about 800 pages of reading...in which, thus far, the most engaging bits have been modern critical writing, not the 19th-century novel or the 18th-century Arabian tales I've also been reading.
I feel like my brain is very, very tired. And yet, there are miles to go before I sleep! I'm sure I'll get back into the habit of this kind of intense reading, with enough practice, but for now it's just a little more difficult than I remembered...
The reading I'm doing now is different from (though by no means lesser than!) the reading I did over the summer. I'm reading things now because I "have" to, not entirely because I want to -- though of course I did sign up for the classes, so of course I did have some say in the matter. And I'm reading things with deadlines imposed. Over the summer, if I started a book and it wasn't doing it for me, I'd put it down. I'd go do something else for a while. Then I'd come back. If it still wasn't doing it, I'd leave it a little longer. But that's no longer really an option. Only three of my four English classes have met so far, and I already have about 800 pages of reading...in which, thus far, the most engaging bits have been modern critical writing, not the 19th-century novel or the 18th-century Arabian tales I've also been reading.
I feel like my brain is very, very tired. And yet, there are miles to go before I sleep! I'm sure I'll get back into the habit of this kind of intense reading, with enough practice, but for now it's just a little more difficult than I remembered...