Reflections on reading part 3: How many different things to read at one time and dealing with overwhelm

“The greatest gift is the passion for reading. It is cheap, it consoles, it distracts.” (Elizabeth Hardwick)

In my first post in this series of reflections on reading, I rambled, as I am wont to do, and waxed lyrical on how to find the time to read. Let me just point out the obvious – my ‘strategy’ doesn’t necessarily work for everyone. And I probably didn’t quite make it clear that when it comes to finding the time to read, trying to cram in any type of reading at various points of your day, it very much depends on what exactly you are trying to read.

I came across a great article the other day, which is related to another strategy for catching up on reading books: stay completely away from not only social media, but any internet news. Or, you could do like this guy did and read only print newspapers for two months.

I love that idea, but problematically, being in Ukraine means getting hold of a daily [print] newspaper in English is pretty challenging.

I also talked – yet again – about one of my favourite writers/columnists (I guess he is more of a columnist), Oliver Burkeman. I also discussed the difficulty in keeping track of all of my browser bookmarks from over the years, and how this type of procrastination can lead to a feeling of overwhelm.

After posting, I decided to do a bit of inventory and cleanup of my links, only to stumble upon this old nugget from Mr Burkeman: How to find the time to read. I had forgotten all about it.

Actually, despite the reverence I have for Burkeman, most of his advice goes against everything I said in my last post. I stand by what I said, but for a counterbalance, see what Burkeman has to offer. His basic premise? ‘Using such methods [as mine] to free up the odd 30 minutes doesn’t work. Sit down to read and the flywheel of work-related thoughts keeps spinning – or else you’re so exhausted that a challenging book’s the last thing you need…[d]eep reading requires not just time, but a special kind of time which can’t be obtained merely by becoming more efficient.’

The overall key? ‘Scheduling regular times for reading.’

Again, I find life so busy, frenetic and unpredictable, that ‘scheduling’ time to read is virtually impossible.

I also have trouble dealing with ‘immersive’ reading and limiting myself to one book. People often find my approach surprising, but I tend to have anywhere from 4 to 8 books on the go at once, and that doesn’t include weaving additional articles, essays and periodical subscriptions into my reading. When you try to read whenever and wherever possible, you have to be more selective about what you choose to read. In the morning, despite my grogginess, I want something hefty, thought-provoking and challenging. Late(r) at night, something lighter, usually fiction. If I have 10-15 minutes to fill, I want an essay in a collection of essays. So, for example, a sample current reading list might include, and this is a recent(ish) list from the past few months:

* essays from Christopher Hitchens (Arguably)

* a piece of fiction/literature, usually, but not always on the ‘heavier’ side (The Good Soldier, Ford Madox Ford or The Debt to Pleasure, John Lanchester)

* a lighter, guilty pleasure, and a quick, easy read (Boy, Roald Dahl or something like Flashman)

* something philosophical, perhaps also in essay form (The Hidden Pleasures of Life, Theodore Zeldin or At the Existentialist Café: Freedom, Being & Apricot Cocktails, Sarah Bakewell)

* a rigorous and challenging piece of non-fiction (The Gene: An Intimate History, Siddhartha Mukherjee or Red Famine: Stalin’s War on Ukraine, Anne Applebaum)

* something ‘businessy/financialy’ (Against the Gods: the Remarkable Story of Risk, Peter Bernstein)

Yes, things get pretty muddled up, and yes, books start to blend together and I can’t remember where I read something, but this approach works for me. My reading mood, levels of concentrations and how tired I am fluctuate, so I have to have the right book for the right mood.

I’d now like to share my current reading list. Actually, this is not my current reading list, but is instead a comprehensive list of what I have already read and what I am presently reading on a particular topic. See if you can guess the common theme:

Brain Rules for Baby: How to Raise a Smart and Happy Child from Zero to Five

Eat, Sleep, Poop: A Common Sense Guide to Your Baby's First Year

The New Dad's Survival Guide: What to Expect in the First Year and Beyond

Bringing Up Bébé: One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting (with Bébé Day by Day: 100 Keys to French Parenting)

Pregnancy For Men: The whole nine months

Expecting Better: Why the Conventional Pregnancy Wisdom is Wrong and What You Really Need to Know

Watch Your Junk and Other Advice for Expectant Fathers

Child Language: Acquisition and Development

Depending on your point of view, that’s either an admirable list or a downright cringeworthy one.

I guess certain life-altering events can affect your choice of reading, right?

Much like my approach to life and reading – remember, FOMO from my last post? – I want(ed) to make sure I’ve covered most of the ground when it comes to raising a kid. In addition to the above set of books, I’ve done copious amounts of reading & research. Before I became a father, I would skip over and totally ignore anything related to children (with the exception being language acquisition or brain development).

I’m not sure how much legwork other fathers-to-be put in, and I wasn’t sure whether this was overkill or not, but I really just wanted to cover as much ground as possible. I started reading last summer, and as I finished a book, I looked for a new one that would complement (or, in many cases, contradict: never wake a sleeping baby/don’t let your baby nap for too long; let your kid play Grand Theft Auto/keep them the hell away from computer games; read to them all the time/give them a smart phone as soon as possible) what I had already read.

And then, guess who popped up in my news feed a few weeks ago? My old pal Oliver Burkeman. I swear, I need to stop plugging his material (and I swear, he’s not putting me up to this – I don’t know him, have never met him, really!). And just look at the title of this column – which is a much, much longer read than his regular ‘This column will change your life’:

‘The diabolical genius of the baby advice industry: Every baffled new parent goes searching for answers in baby manuals. But what they really offer is the reassuring fantasy that life’s most difficult questions have one right answer.’

It’s a long, but very enlightening and downright fascinating read.

Here’s just one choice excerpt:

‘I knew all these things – but what I didn’t yet understand was the diabolical genius of the baby-advice industry, which targets people at their most sleep-deprived, at the beginning of what will surely be the weightiest responsibility of their lives, and suggests that maybe, just maybe, between the covers of this book, lies the morsel of information that will make the difference between their baby’s flourishing or floundering. The brilliance of this system is that it works on the most sceptical readers, too, because you don’t need to believe it’s likely such a morsel actually exists. You need only think it likely enough to justify spending another £10.99 on, oh, you know, the entire future happiness of your child, just in case. Assuming you’ve got £10.99 to spare, what kind of monster would refuse?’

As long as my reading list is/was, his was much longer, so I feel somewhat better.

But I do, truly, have to say: most of these books I’ve read or am reading are gripping. Except for some in-depth medical advice where authors delve into the specifics of the consistency of poo, these books are rarely dull and you amazingly, and surprisingly perhaps, learn so much about yourself and your own development in the process. Actually, what am I talking about? The stuff on poo is absolutely riveting, this is right up my alley! (ba-doom-cha)

There does, however, come a point when I think you have to say ‘enough is enough’. Let your intuition take over. Rely on your common sense (or lack thereof). Or let me defer to my good pal Jeffrey, who I hope doesn’t mind me quoting him, yet again. I’ve probably quoted him – he is very wise, after all – at least 5 or 6 times in these pages over the years. He became a father last August and had this to say to me:

My advice to the new parents-to-be: collect all advice from people, and judge it (and them) accordingly, but do your own thing. Everyone has an opinion on how birthing and raising a child MUST be. Like you MUST get an epidural, or you MUST use this pram model, or you MUST not allow them to watch too much TV. I have doubts about the trustworthiness of people who are so steadfast in their conviction. Moreover, you've got to choose your own adventure. And really, the reading of child-rearing books together sounds like a great way to start this project.

Time for an interlude, and a trip down memory lane

Let me take you back to late August 2005, just after I had arrived in Lviv for my first full-time teaching job. I had finished my Celta in April of that year (for more on my time doing the Celta, and some reflection on how and why I became a teacher, check out part one of my reflections on teaching.)

After a couple of days of settling in and orientation, I was leaving the school on a Friday afternoon and, feeling a bit nervous about starting on the following Monday, I asked David, my director of studies, if I could borrow a book from the school’s library. Sure, he said, which one? I took a book on methodology or teaching techniques and he just shook his head sadly. David was an incredibly wise man and a terrific boss. He told me to put the methodology book away and instead gave me one of his own books that he said would be far better preparation:

Musungu Jim and the Great Chief Tuloko, by Patrick Neate.

I read the title again and again and thought to myself ‘how the hell is this going to help me get ready for Monday?’

Then I read the blurb on the back and was even more perplexed:

‘Zambawi, a banana republic in sub-Saharan Africa, is on the verge of revolution. President Adini, dictator and eunuch, clings to power whilst his soldiers switch sides so often they don't know which uniform to wear. All in all, Zambawi is not the ideal location for student teacher Jim Tulloh to indulge in a spot of character building. Yet with the help of Musa, the local witchdoctor, some flatulent weed and headmaster, PK, Jim's days look set to be mellow in the extreme; until that is Jim is kidnapped from his bush school by the rebel Black Boot Gang. But it is when the Gangers invoke the spirit of Zambawi's Great Chief Tuloko that Jim's fate takes a really unexpected turn…’

I tried to figure out why David was giving this to me. Was it the ‘student teacher’ link? The fact that I had lived in Africa before? Something to do with flatulence?

I had no idea, and I was none the wiser after reading it. But I can tell you this: it was a rip-roaringly great read, and one of the funniest books I’ve ever read. I thoroughly enjoyed it, but for the life of me it took me some time to come around to why David had recommended I read it.

I don’t know when it dawned on me, but at some point the realization came that this was absolutely ideal preparation for my first day on the job. It took my mind off everything else and allowed me to escape. Which is just one of many reasons why people read. Or at least, should read.

Like I said, a certain point comes when you have to say: ‘enough is enough’.

With that in mind, a few weeks ago, feeling a bit overwhelmed with the amount of child-rearing books I’d been reading, I went in a totally different direction and read The Diary of a Nobody, by George and Weedon Grossmith. It had a similar effect to Musungu Jim: highly beneficial. It gave my mind the respite I needed from the deluge of baby advice, and if you’re at all a fan of wry and acerbic witty British humour, then definitely read it. It can be got through in a couple of hours. It has nothing to do with babies, but everything to do with escapism.

And you just never know when a particular book will prove beneficial in the most unexpected ways. For as long as I can remember, I’ve kept a journal/diary where I jot down quotations and notes from books. Some of this has migrated online, but I still write things down the old-fashioned way. Rifling through my journal from 2003-5, I found a few notes from Musungu Jim, including this absolute gem. At the time, I merely chuckled over it. Fast forward to some 12+ years later, and it seems more pertinent than ever:

‘A daughter is like diarrhea. She leaves you drained and empty but when she calls you have to answer.’

You just never know when things will prove worthwhile.

‘Do not read as do children, to amuse yourself or, like the ambitious, for the purpose of instruction. No, read in order to live.’ (Gustave Flaubert)