Escapism
Whilst acknowledging that the results of a Twitter Poll is hardly the most scientific data set, I was intrigued to see the results of one conducted my local (ish) indie, Southport's magnificent Broadhurst Books (if you're in the area, go), in which the majority of respondents reported that they were "too anxious" to read much during the current crisis, the threat of COVID-19 was affecting their ability to concentrate.
Whilst sympathising, I wondered about the concentration part. I appreciate that now is probably not the time to start cracking on with À la recherche du temps perdu, but in these fervently fervid times, it strikes me that reading as a form of escapism is something I want to do.
For what it's worth, I am actually reading less than usual at the moment, but that's more to do with fatherhood than anxiety. My normal work schedule affords me a bit of peace and quiet when I get back late at night, that's my reading time. As things currently stand, I chisel out a bit of time in the morning to write, but once the kids are up that's pretty much it for the day, with three hungry boys home full time the cooking, laundry and washing up alone is a full time job, and that's before we get to the ensuring that they're exercised / working / properly engaged. Those precious bits of peace when they're glued to various screens are spent tidying up. But I am still able to read, and, when I can, it's a wonderful distraction.
Escapism takes many forms, at least, it does for me. The idea which is immediately conjured is that of something light and feelgood, the literary equivalent of a rom-com, and these have their place (for pure escapism of this sort, I've always felt it's difficult to beat PG Wodehouse). The concept of the comfort read, be it a fondly remembered old favourite or something new by a trusted author has a lot to recommend it at a time like this. Given the choice between read mostly new work or mostly old, those respondents to the poll who were reading broke strongly in favour of old. An understandable response, but there are other ways to get an escapist fix beyond reaching for the tried and tested.
For myself, my reading at the moment is something of a mixed bag, I have reached for a couple of books I've read before, but I'm trying to take the opportunity to expand my horizons a little as well. From the old, well, I admit that my idea of a comfort read may differ slightly from other people's, I've been re-reading various Iain M Banks novels (the sci-fi ones, as opposed to the real world ones), Banks' ability to fully imagine other worlds makes for an immersive read, and takes you entirely away from this one, plus, with their moral ambiguity, apocalyptic weaponry and frankly terrifying body count, the real world seems a slightly more benign place when you resurface. Or, alternatively, you get a better idea of your own insignificance when set against he vastness of space, which is something of a comfort, I guess.
Also on the bedside table is a fair whack of nature writing. What better to take you somewhere else during lockdown than lyrical evocations of landscape? To this end, I've been re-reading Rob McFarlane's wonderful "The Old Ways", and dreaming of the time when I, too can strike out across the countryside for reasons other than a government-sanctioned daily exercise (the bedside table on the other side of the bed currently holds Roger Deakin's Waterlog: another book which is, in essence, about freedom). At its best, Nature writing has the power to transport the reader out of their chair and place them firmly elsewhere, grounding them in something bigger than their daily concerns, I recommend a dose.
This being ostensibly a poetry blog, it would be remiss not to mention the poetry which is helping to distract me from the gathering gloom, a mix of old and new here. At times of crisis I generally find it a good idea to reach for Lee Harwood, his unique combination of clarity and humanity is a universal panacea for troubled souls, also on the go is Raymond Antrobus' "The Perseverance", a highly engaging skip through worlds, cultures and experiences which are unknown to me, which is escapism too, of a sort (as well as an education).
Whatever form your reading takes in these unusual times, I hope it works for you, to take your mind off things, take you somewhere else, and remind you that there are other worlds and other lives than the one that you're currently enduring.
Whilst sympathising, I wondered about the concentration part. I appreciate that now is probably not the time to start cracking on with À la recherche du temps perdu, but in these fervently fervid times, it strikes me that reading as a form of escapism is something I want to do.
For what it's worth, I am actually reading less than usual at the moment, but that's more to do with fatherhood than anxiety. My normal work schedule affords me a bit of peace and quiet when I get back late at night, that's my reading time. As things currently stand, I chisel out a bit of time in the morning to write, but once the kids are up that's pretty much it for the day, with three hungry boys home full time the cooking, laundry and washing up alone is a full time job, and that's before we get to the ensuring that they're exercised / working / properly engaged. Those precious bits of peace when they're glued to various screens are spent tidying up. But I am still able to read, and, when I can, it's a wonderful distraction.
Escapism takes many forms, at least, it does for me. The idea which is immediately conjured is that of something light and feelgood, the literary equivalent of a rom-com, and these have their place (for pure escapism of this sort, I've always felt it's difficult to beat PG Wodehouse). The concept of the comfort read, be it a fondly remembered old favourite or something new by a trusted author has a lot to recommend it at a time like this. Given the choice between read mostly new work or mostly old, those respondents to the poll who were reading broke strongly in favour of old. An understandable response, but there are other ways to get an escapist fix beyond reaching for the tried and tested.
For myself, my reading at the moment is something of a mixed bag, I have reached for a couple of books I've read before, but I'm trying to take the opportunity to expand my horizons a little as well. From the old, well, I admit that my idea of a comfort read may differ slightly from other people's, I've been re-reading various Iain M Banks novels (the sci-fi ones, as opposed to the real world ones), Banks' ability to fully imagine other worlds makes for an immersive read, and takes you entirely away from this one, plus, with their moral ambiguity, apocalyptic weaponry and frankly terrifying body count, the real world seems a slightly more benign place when you resurface. Or, alternatively, you get a better idea of your own insignificance when set against he vastness of space, which is something of a comfort, I guess.
Also on the bedside table is a fair whack of nature writing. What better to take you somewhere else during lockdown than lyrical evocations of landscape? To this end, I've been re-reading Rob McFarlane's wonderful "The Old Ways", and dreaming of the time when I, too can strike out across the countryside for reasons other than a government-sanctioned daily exercise (the bedside table on the other side of the bed currently holds Roger Deakin's Waterlog: another book which is, in essence, about freedom). At its best, Nature writing has the power to transport the reader out of their chair and place them firmly elsewhere, grounding them in something bigger than their daily concerns, I recommend a dose.
This being ostensibly a poetry blog, it would be remiss not to mention the poetry which is helping to distract me from the gathering gloom, a mix of old and new here. At times of crisis I generally find it a good idea to reach for Lee Harwood, his unique combination of clarity and humanity is a universal panacea for troubled souls, also on the go is Raymond Antrobus' "The Perseverance", a highly engaging skip through worlds, cultures and experiences which are unknown to me, which is escapism too, of a sort (as well as an education).
Whatever form your reading takes in these unusual times, I hope it works for you, to take your mind off things, take you somewhere else, and remind you that there are other worlds and other lives than the one that you're currently enduring.
posted by Matt | 11:20 AM
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