Reading is Fundamental

I have a very clear period in my life in which I was a "reader": January to August of 1997. Oddly, August is when I met Joanne, but that is coincidental, not causal. This period of lots of reading on my own was largely the result of a certain amount of peer pressure resulting from Alex, the other American in my flat when I studied in Edinburgh. He was always reading. In his room, while walking to class, while eating. I think he even read before the lights went down in a movie. So despite all the reading my courses there required, I added on a bunch of pleasure reading on top of it. This was pretty easy to do, though, with no TV, no radio and no internet in the flat. And I read a lot, frequently going to 3 of the bookstores nearby, including one used bookstore where I scored first editions of Churchill's account of WWII for 20 pounds. (completely unread). I ended up with enough books to bring home that I send a couple of shipments as they wouldn't fit in my return luggage.

Alas, it did not last. It wasn't an abrupt stop, but it became less of a habit. Oh, I'd occasionally finish something, and Book Club helped a bit, but my small collection of Revolutionary books remains started but unfinished, and the last book I read completely on my own was... dunno. It's been a while. I'm afraid it might be the Da Vinci Code, which I realized was crap at a certain point while reading it, but that didn't stop me from finishing in very short amount of time.

This isn't to say I don't read, but that Google is making me stupid. That is, so much of my reading is internet based that my attention span is not what it used to be. Long cogent thoughts or narratives are lost on me. Of course, part of this could be the material I'm choosing to read when I do read. Not that it's a book, but each issue of Foreign Affairs is like one, as is the Economist with its condensed print type. But the amount of each I read when I get them is lacking. As is the retention. I've had an excuse the past couple of months, but still--it's an area that needs some work.

And Owen is helping. Or at least I hope he does/will. We occasionally read some of the baby books we received to him, but he still doesn't show much interest in the pictures, so we're left with realizing (as Joanne did) that baby books are horrible--it seems like anyone can (or everyone has) written one. Since it doesn't really matter what the words are (since it's more important that he hears our voice) and Owen would rather look at the ceiling fan than colorful pictures, I decided to read a regular book to him. Why not start with my favorite?

Joanne loaned my reading copy of this book to a friend last year and it was finally returned. Oh, I have the first edition on my bookshelf, but that's a collectible more than a book. So I started reading A Prayer for Owen Meany to Owen last weekend (hopefully it's not too adult for him).

At this point, you may be thinking to yourself that we named Owen after Owen Meany. That's not really the case. I was the one pushing/advocating for the name, but I don't recall the book explicitly being talked about. I didn't say I want to name our son after the main character of my favorite book. It's more that the book gave me a certain acceptance of the name that might otherwise not have existed.

But I digress...

We're already on page 72! Owen (my son, not the character) in 4 of the 5 reading sessions so far has starting "talking" a lot after 10-15 minutes of my reading aloud. It's the most babble I've heard from him, and I don't hear it with such volume or constancy in any other situation. It gets to the point where I have to speak over him and Joanne tells me I'm reading too loud. Or perhaps I'm just missing the cue that he wants me to be quiet, as he just wants to look at the fan and drift off to sleep.

A couple of notes/passages of interest in the first chapter:

• In baseball, Owen Meany wears the number 3 (representing the trinity). Our Owen was born on March 3.
• Tabitha Wheelwright, Johnny's mother, tells Owen, "Everything you need, Owen, it will be taken care of" in reference to him attending Gravesend Academy when he's old enough. I read the line twice (or maybe three times) to Owen. Joanne got a little choked up.
• Owen was small perhaps due to being born premature.

We'll see how well the novel form holds his attention. Or mine, when I'm reading it aloud and it's not my favorite book.