The spectrum of reading

While pondering about books and how to read them I remembered one episode.

On my first or second year at University one professor asked the auditorium whether anybody knew the name of the author of Moby-Dick. He said he’d give the highest grade for the semester to the student who’d say the name. All one hundred something students went silent. I read Moby-Dick and had two impulses: first was to earn an easy grade; second was: meh! I don’t need that kind of charity, passing the semester exam would be piece of cake anyway. Finally, one girl pronounced Herman Melville’s name. For the professor it was an amusement to showcase how stupid and ignorant the younger generation of students were.

The meaning of Melville’s multifaceted book unfolds greater and greater with each year of my recalling its oceans and passions. But to return to the question that originated this memory: I really don’t know what would be the wisest way to read books that stream into my life incessantly. Should I take notes, highlight phrases and paragraphs, or simply read in a flow, letting my unconscious mind soak in all things missed by my conscious mind?

Taking notes seems a time-consuming work, especially if I simply roam around the literature without any specific topic of investigation (although I usually highlight everything related to mind, states of consciousness, existential meaning of life, transpersonal realms, etc.). If I don’t save the notes to computer sooner or later they get lost.

However, every book’s text is a landscape to be traversed and carefully explored, sometimes pioneered. Notes and highlight can really be helpful if you want to access the knowledge right away. At times being able to find the quotation I needed by searching the tag system in my Zotero notes has been helpful. Taking notes from the important books now and categorizing them in a database seems like an investment into the future.

On the other hand, some of the most profound book knowledge that I have learned seems to be the one I learned passionately through spontaneous reading with an open mind (a beginner’s mind) and a broad intention. The naive reading, so to say. The flow of books would enter my life, stay there a little bit, leave a mark or a scratch or a signature, and then go away. Some years later it would re-emerge in a huge bulk of meanings constellations. That’s probably a Romantic way of looking at reading.

But no matter what, even more influential were the texts I translated myself. These texts I digested with all my sentient being. As always, it seems everything’s really scalable and we can adapt many styles to read and use many tools to enhance our reading. Perhaps, there’s a spectrum of reading?

In defense of integral reading

“In Defense of Naïve Reading” by Robert Pippin is a pretty interesting integrative article on literary postmodernism published at the New York Times website. Reading it was as if the surfaces of the Red Postmodern Sea were parted and the depth of self-consciousness revealed itself. At least for a moment a silent green beam of hope shined. To quote,

“[L]iterature and the arts have a dimension unique in the academy, not shared by the objects studied, or ‘researched’ by our scientific brethren. They invite or invoke, at a kind of ‘first level,’ an aesthetic experience that is by its nature resistant to restatement in more formalized, theoretical or generalizing language. This response can certainly be enriched by knowledge of context and history, but the objects express a first-person or subjective view of human concerns that is falsified if wholly transposed to a more ‘sideways on’ or third-person view. Indeed that is in a way the whole point of having the ‘arts.’”

For me, literature has always been a source of deep wisdom that fosters one’s greater maturity. As a brilliant Russian thinker Vasily Nalimov argues in his books, consciousness is a text-reading phenomenon (in the broadest sense of the word). In my opinion, narrative brings meaningful & very subtle structures to one’s personal development; and Ken Wilber has pointed out the importance of the world greatest religious narratives as developmental conveyor belts for preconventional & conventional worldspaces in his book Integral Spirituality.

To continue quoting this wonderful article,

“Likewise—and this is a much more controversial thesis—such works also can directly deliver a kind of practical knowledge and self-understanding not available from a third person or more general formulation of such knowledge. There is no reason to think that such knowledge—exemplified in what Aristotle said about the practically wise man (the [Phronēsis]) or in what Pascal meant by the difference between l’esprit géometrique and l’esprit de finesse—is any less knowledge because it cannot be so formalized or even taught as such. Call this a plea for a place for ‘naïve’ reading, teaching and writing—an appreciation and discussion not mediated by a theoretical research question recognizable as such by the modern academy.”

Definitely, aesthetically-built literary narratives seem to have the capacity of constructing experiential frameworks for conveying certain domains of tacit knowledge (necessary for action learning in the pragmatic sector). To additionally contribute to this statement about the importance of aesthetics in our narratives, I would quote the famous Russian writer Anton Chekhov who said, “The writer’s function is only to describe by whom, how, and under what conditions… The artist must be only an impartial witness of his characters and what they said, not their judge.” (I borrowed the quotation from another interesting article by Nina Schuyler.)

Here are some of the questions worth pondering. Why reading comprehensive literature is so important for our development? Why do I think that in order for us to contribute to humanity probably the best thing we can do is to calm our minds enough to be able to actually have read Dostoevsky’s passionate reflections on universal conscience and self-liberation? Why do stories and their archetypal images have played such an important role for our humanity’s evolution for millennia? Why good 1st-person storytelling is so important not just for narrow marketing and cheap sales pitches but for a wide range of dimensions of life that involve communication and knowledge sharing?

One of the many perspectives that I find increasingly important when contemplating the matrix of these questions is the mind-blowing neuroscientific discovery of mirror neurons: 

“In multiple reports published in the Sept. 19 issue of Current Biology, neuroscientists provide evidence that mirror neurons are multimodal—they are activated by not just by watching actions, but also by hearing and reading about them.

An effort led by Lisa Lisa Aziz-Zadeh, a neuroscientist at the University of Southern California, found that the brain’s premotor cortex shows the same activity when subjects observe an action as when they read words describing it.” (“Mirror Neurons Also Respond to Language and Sound,” September 21, 2006)

Hence, we are witnessing the capacity of comprehensive narratives to evoke altered states of consciousness and deeper modes of knowing and appreciating life which are important for the emergence of a more sophisticated pragmatics of our being-in-the-world. Science cannot replace art and morals—Habermas, Wilber and others have proved it convincingly; but if science, morals, and art are in a complementary relationship with each other their synergy will most definitely bring forth powerful results.