I got serious about my faith when I entered college, and one fruit of this increased commitment was that I found myself turning into a reader. This newfound passion for reading would end up costing me way more money and time than I could have imagined (and at this point in my life, I’m sure I’m just seeing the tip of the iceberg).
At that early stage in my Christian development, I felt the urge to be the kind of person who is “well read.” “Well read” people were so impressive to me: They seemed to know everything about everything, they could make casual references to important books, and they never had to be insecure about books they hadn’t read—because they had read just about everything. Or so I thought.
I’m beginning to realize that “being well read” is far more complex than I thought. Here are some unorganized realizations that I’ve come to as a 33-year-old who reads a lot:
Being “well read” is elusive. Precisely how many books must one read before he or she is “well read”? The more books I read, the more I become aware of a hidden world full of books I never knew I needed to read. You’ll never reach the end of the list of “books you ought to read.” There’s always more to know. And if you’re a true reader, being considered “well read” will never be enough for you: you’ve caught the bug, you have to read because you realize how much you still need to learn.
Being “well read” is a horrible goal. I’m surprised I didn’t see this coming during my college years. A lot of my initial desire to be “well read” was wrapped up in wanting to appear intelligent in front of other people. I’m embarrassed to admit that. I know people who are always trying to demonstrate their intelligence, always making mention of important-sounding works they have read. I don’t want to be that guy. I still crave knowledge; I still love books. But as soon as “well read” becomes a status marker we’re striving to attain, then we’re perverting the wholesome pursuit of knowledge. Read as much as you can, but don’t give a moment’s thought to “being well read.”
Being a reader is a better goal than being “well read.” You should read. It’s important, helpful, edifying. You should read as much as your schedule, temperament, and curiosity will allow. But you shouldn’t be worried about whether or not you’re reading enough. That’s not the point. Let books teach you what they can, but don’t let books determine your value or dignity. Reading is not about gaining respect, it’s about growing. Fame is the pursuit of fools; social status is fleeting. Don’t read books for other people, read them for your own growth.
Reading happens one page at a time. During those times when I felt insecure about all of the important books I hadn’t read, I’d feel this burning motivation to quickly read every significant book ever written. But how do you go about doing that? I’ve come to realize that you’ll never finish a whole group of books if you wait until you have time to read a whole group of books. What you have to do is pick up one book and read one page. When you’ve finished that page, you read the next page. That’s the only way to do it.
Every book takes a certain amount of time to finish. You can dream all you want about how many books you’d like to read, but there’s no way to get to that point without picking up one book and reading it a page at a time. If you hate reading pages, you’re not a reader, so do yourself a favor and give up on “being well read.” If you love reading pages, you’ll spend the rest of your life doing it. And while becoming “well read” will always be elusive, you’ll be the kind of person who continually gleans much from many books. And that’s what you really want to gain from reading.
On a related note: if you want some tips from C. S. Lewis on reading well, click here.