Why lie about reading?
I listened recently to a Backlisted episode from 2018, where they discussed How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read by Pierre Bayard. Having never heard of either book or author, I assumed it was going to be satire about the kind of pompous windbag that always has to have been there or done that, no matter where the conversation turns. Weirdly, it didn't seem to be.
Bayard is a French literature professor, I believe, and seems to subscribe to the peculiar idea that it's somehow embarrassing or shameful to admit to not having read a particular book. I guess if you're teaching a course on it or writing a review of it, it might be - though I would say there are bigger problems there than saving face. I can't think of any other circumstance where you would want to say you'd read a book when you hadn't. Even in a book club, surely there's a more interesting conversation to be had about why you couldn't get past page six, than in trying to bluff your way through a discussion of major themes.
In the podcast a couple of them talked about working as booksellers and deceiving the customers. Who expects someone who works in their local bookshop to have read all the stock? I wouldn't even expect the sci-fi specialist in Waterstones to have read everything on the sci-fi and fantasy shelves. What's wrong with saying 'no I haven't read it but my friend raves about it' or 'I don't really do cyberpunk but it got 5 stars in The Guardian'?
There was also mention of shady dealings with visiting authors. I think it's much less rude to tell an author you haven't (as yet) read their book than to pretend you have. I've been to many litfest events where I haven't read the book and on the occasions I've ended up speaking to the author afterwards, I've truthfully told them the reason. That may have been because I had only heard of it due to the event (which is at least part of the reason they're doing the event), or was on the library waiting list for a copy, or just hadn't worked that far down the To Read pile yet. As a writer, I'd rather someone said they were keeping their friend company or had picked an event at random than pretend they'd read my work.
Cathy Rentzenbrink mentioned on the podcast her work with literacy charities, and how it can be intimidating to people starting to read when 'everyone' has read this massive list of books, so actually it's good to admit you haven't, and take the pressure off . I think my dad said something to me when I was in my late teens and still in my 'ought to' phase with books, about the ever-growing list of classics and not reading anything new till you're thirty. The idea being that there was this nineteenth century list of classics that the educated man ought to have read, compiled when literacy was becoming a mass achievement in England, and nobody knocked Dickens off when they added Orwell, or replaced George Eliot with Virginia Woolf. Every generation added more books, more authors, so it got to the point where you'd have to read nothing but books on that list for several years once you move on to adult fiction, before you could start reading new releases and developing your own taste. And if you feel like you 'ought to' read all the Sunday Times bestsellers and the Booker prize shortlist to keep up with the cultural conversation, then maybe you never do develop your own taste.
I could slip into a meditation on class, here, and who defines cultural norms and expectations (harking back to my last post on gatekeepers) but I'll restrain myself. However, I will say that if you don't have to read it for an exam, never read a book you don't have reasonably high expectations of. Some will disappoint you, but honestly if you think an incredibly long nineteenth century book about whale-hunting sounds dull don't feel obliged to waste whole days of your life on it just because Moby Dick's a famous title. If anyone asks if you've read it, tell them it didn't sound like your kind of thing. If they insist you must and you don't want to argue (it is guaranteed to be someone's favourite ever book, after all) tell them you'll give it a go when your To Read pile is empty, confident in the knowledge it will never happen. I'm not saying you can't ask them what they love about it, or let it lead to a pleasant conversation about books set at sea, just don't try and convince them you read it thirty years ago and can't quite recall the details. Own your unique blend of tastes and preferences.
Coincidentally, a couple of months before that podcast episode initially went out, I wrote the following here on my blog:
At any given gathering of writers, I can guarantee that someone will mention a book and at least one other person will have read it. Occasionally I’ll have heard of (but not read) it, often I haven’t even heard of the author and I marvel at this literary synchronicity that means that out of all the millions of books available in English, these two people in the same room have read the same one in the last few weeks. Then I wonder how I come across – do they all think I don’t read? I mention Ben Aaronovitch or Reginald Hill and they look blank. Terry Pratchett at least is a recognisable name even if they know nothing about his books. I give up, stay quiet, consider only going to genre-based gatherings.
Now I wonder if it was truly synchronicity or if some of them had been taking tips from Prof Bayard.
If I’ve got you out of learning pertinent facts about books you don't care about, you can always buy me a cuppa…
