Over at the Guardian there’s a blurb about how their fastest reader, John Crace, only reads sixty pages an hour, and how he considers that to be quite fast enough. I suppose I don’t know how many pages I read an hour, because really, pages are a rather inaccurate unit of measurement considering all the different sizes of pages out there. As far as words, I read anywhere from 300 to 800 words a minute, depending on the density of the material. But that’s what I always emphasize to my students – that you don’t only want to be a speed reader, you also want to have the ability to switch between gears, to be able to ponder Heidegger at 100 words a minute and fly over Harry Potter at 800. Too many people get stuck at reading all material at a plodding rate, and can’t speed up or slow down when the need arises.
I must say that for me, at least in terms of overall speed, reading a short story collection has always been a different affair than reading a novel. I love to read novels in one sitting. Many I cannot do that with, but those on the shorter side I can usually finish in the time it takes to watch a long movie. It’s just wonderful to be completely wrapped up in the world created by the author, without interruption, from beginning to end. We all remember books that we’ve tried to read so piecemeal they crumble – who was that character? what happened before this? – and those books usually don’t get finished, or if they do, we don’t remember them fondly.
But with short story collections, I can’t help but read it piecemeal, because it actually resists being read from start to finish in one sitting. The short story collections I remember the best are ones where I never read more than one or two stories at a time, but carefully pace it out over the course of several parts of each day. That’s when a story can lodge itself in my mind, letting me replay over and over a particular scene or emotion, puzzling or admiring the artfulness of the created situation. Reading it unit by unit (I know, I’m sorry, I just called a story a “unit,” those in my lit theory past would be proud) is a type of mnemonic technique to enable me to remember the story better.
But does anyone else out there enjoy reading collections differently? Any other tips or techniques? Any strange preferences?
(ps. This post is 430 words, so if you took a minute, you read at 430. 30 seconds is 860 words a minute. If 45 seconds, 645 words a minute. But the best way to time yourself is to read a book, and see your average over two or three hours – just count the words on one page and do the math.)
2 comments
While I do enjoy the complete immersion of devouring a story over a matter of hours, I also am fond of the epic tale, which cannot be read all at once. The long novel (sometimes bound in several volumes) must become a part of my life as I explore a little more of the story each day — like a temporary companion in a foreign country. Like your experience of the short story collection, this method allows me to meditate on a chapter or an act of the story, to ponder the characters and their motivations along the way.
I rarely read one story at a time unless it is especially light fare (Harry Potter). Rather I explore 6 or 7 stories in a range or topics and styles, choosing at each sitting the one that most appeals to me at that moment. This way reading never feels like a task. I do not generally struggle to recall plot or characters unless I take an especially long time (several months) finishing the story. I read once that Twain used to write by a similar method, taking up the story that inspired him on a given day, juggling several at any moment.
One benefit of this habit is a seamless experience of reading (or writing). When I finish a book, I already have another in process. I never have to caste about for a new book, and I never hesitate to start a reading a book on the grounds that I already have started another.
My lifestyle resists immersive reading experiences — with two little children, there’s always someone to holler MOMMY when I’m at a critical moment. I persevere though. Now I’m trying to read a Tom Wolfe novel — it might take two months of bathtimes.