Writings on reading (Part two)

Two weeks ago, I stumbled upon a fundraising campaign to help an elderly gentleman piece his library of eleven thousand books back together because it had been set on fire. I felt my stomach twist itself into a knot as I grasped the horror of these words. A deep dive revealed that this collection was the result of years of passionate curation despite his meagre income and I desperately wanted to help.

I've often heard that reading is an expensive interest and therefore probably not easily affordable for all. I find this argument fundamentally flawed because it confuses the act of buying fresh-off the-shelf books with that of reading - you don't have to own a brand new copy of everything you read. India teems with second hand bookstores. In fact, branding them as 'stores' might even be a bit of a stretch. More often than not, they're paperback piles under blue tarpaulin sprawled around street corners waiting to be picked up. 

I genuinely believe that second hand books and libraries are wonderful alternatives to purchasing books online. They open doors to supporting local business while also helping you stay within the boundaries of a budget. If you aren't price sensitive, independent publishing houses/ bookstores are really worth your while. I find the distinct tone they bring to their publications, quite refreshing. Reading is a rather solitary endeavour but these places try to foster a culture of reading by organising a gamut of events round the year.

Andy Miller explores the idea that reading is a solitary endeavour in his book 'The year of reading dangerously'. He gives us a peek into an otherwise mundane year in his life. His days pass by, shuttling back and forth from work on a train or attending to the needs of his toddler. He eggs you into getting on a journey with him while the earth circles around the sun while rambling about a bleak existence lit by small pockets of sunshine in the hours he spent reading. Miller is unforgiving to anything he dislikes and minces no words expressing that it's not his cup of tea. The book is riddled with footnotes and lists and almost seems like he's trying to curate an experience for the reader.

I must confess though that I tend to veer away from non fiction because for a long time, I had a terribly preconceived notion that it's.... well.... boring. For as long as I can remember, I've been getting pulled into make believe worlds and snapping right out of them at the ring of a school bell. If you're someone who regularly reads my blog (if you do at all exist), the irony does not escape me - as you might have noted, my writing is largely non fiction. 

A common misconception veiling non fiction is that it's either a grim commentary on the human condition or pedantic. I'm not going to pretend that I did not succumb to it. 'Bookless in Baghdad' by Shashi Tharoor, however, smacked me on the head by demonstrating just how captivating non fiction can be. He writes about books and literature with such passion that it effortlessly reminded me of why I fell in love with reading! His language is charming to say the least and the read packed the warmth of a  hug from an old friend.

When I came across some of the works that were commonly referenced in both these books (Anna Karenina, The master and Margarita), I realised that I had read next to nothing by Russian writers. I was aware that during the twentieth century there was a significant influx of content from the erstwhile Soviet Union into India but for some reason, never thought about why this isn't the case anymore. This is where the third book came to my rescue - 'Another History of the Children's Picture Book' published by Tara Books lends an insightful perspective on writings from Eastern Europe and how they came to influence a generation of Indians. It discusses how the communist government used the picture book as a propaganda tool to shape the minds of children and its far reaching repercussions But hey, what's a history of picture books without pictures? Tara Books does not disappoint - colourful illustrations span across every page making sure that your eyes have a hard time turning away. 

For anyone looking to read about books, I’d definitely recommend getting started with any one of the above. And even if you aren’t, if I've nudged you towards reading even a little bit at all, I think a purpose has been served. 

There are several people like Syed Isaaq (the gentleman from the introductory paragraph) who epitomise that reading is only as much labour as you make it out to be and that there is much pleasure to be derived from it that far exceeds the costs you might have to bear!

Note: if you’d like to contribute to the fund raiser, let me know, and I will be more than happy to share the details with you!