Photo by Gallebee

This Christmas, my sister gave me an interesting little book called Book Lust  by Nancy Pearl – a testament to Pearl’s thirty plus years as a librarian and book reviewer.  I knew I would enjoy her book when I read the introduction: “I read to encounter new worlds and new ways of looking at our own world.  I read to enlarge my horizons, to gain wisdom, to experience beauty, to understand myself better, and for the pure wonderment of it all.”  The chapters are organized alphabetically and include titles like ”Books About Books,” “Cyberspace.com,” “Essaying Essays, ” “People You Ought to Meet,” “Our Primates, Ourselves,” and “People You Ought to Meet.”  Her choices are quirky and unconventional and thoroughly interesting.

In the introduction, Pearl addresses when we should stop reading a book we are not enjoying.  She states: “One of my strongest-held beliefs is that no one should ever finish a book that they’re not enjoying, no matter how popular or well reviewed the book is…I live by what I call ‘the rule of fifty,’ which acknowledges that time is short and the world of books is immense.  If you’re fifty years old or younger, give every book about fifty pages before you decide to commit yourself to reading it, or give it up.  If you’re over fifty, which is when time gets even shorter, subtract your age from 100 — the result is the number of pages you should read before deciding…[and] always leave open the option of going back to a book…” 

When I read this quote, I happened to be in the middle of The Reader by Bernard Schlink.  Moments earlier I had been telling my aunt that I simply wasn’t enjoying The Reader, but since it was a Los Angeles Notable Book, I felt a responsibility to finish it.  My aunt succinctly replied that she has decided that “life is too short to read something you’re not enjoying.”  I think my problem with the novel had less to do with Schlink and more to do with the translation.  It FELT translated in that awkward, stilted way translations can feel – like someone unimaginative is retelling a story.  Now, who knows, I may have felt the same way if I was able to read German – maybe Bernard WAS the problem, but since my 2 ½ years of high school German didn’t get me very far, I had no other recourse.  By the way, Conversational Reading just released Three Percent‘s list of the best translations from 2007.  (I voted for Per Petterson’s Out Stealing Horses).

I subsequently applied Pearl’s recommendation to the next book I had packed – Resistance by Anita Shreve –and did not get beyond the first chapter.  Now, the third book, The Razor’s Edge by W. Somerset Maugham, I did finish and enjoy, although I felt it was not up to the standards I expected after reading The Painted Veil.  But the question of what our personal criteria should be for finishing a book or changing our lives is interesting to contemplate…

Pearl believes we shouldn’t spend too much time on a reading a book we aren’t enjoying.  I started thinking… Does this equation work for other areas of our life?  For careers that have grown stale, relationships where work has replaced fun entirely, homes that are no longer comforting retreats, etc…  Should we determine the length or degree of perseverance according to our calendar age? 

In some respects, this makes sense considering the older we get the more life experience we bring to a situation, and the fewer years we have left to devote to it.  Our wisdom should make us more efficient – we should be able to trust our guts about whether something is merely temporary discomfort that can be solved or a deeper more irrevocable problem.

My first year teaching was a disaster – as many are.  Managing – let alone teaching – a room full of people only 4 years your junior and attempting to have any sort of credibility or authority is no easy task.  Thankfully, I persevered and greatly enjoyed the years that followed.  If I had given up after one year, I would not only have missed out on getting to know many wonderful, inspiring adolescents, but would not have gained the wisdom and confidence I earned by learning how to do something difficult and important and complicated.  The vast majority of my years in the classroom were exciting and challenging and life-giving. 

However, as I have stated in earlier posts, I this chapter of my life may have run its course.  I have gone from waking up excited, without an alarm, eager to engage with my students to teaching with a veil upon my spirit, struggling to muster the excitement my students merit.  Ironically – or not – I know that I am a more proficient and effective teacher now than I was in my earlier years, but I’ve also realized that, with students, enthusiasm is more important than sheer ability.  During my first frustrating year, I made a pact with myself that I would continue to teach for a minimum of five years, and then check back with myself every five years thereafter to see if I should continue to teach.  I did not want, at any point, to start “mailing it in” or white-knuckle my way to retirement.  Fortunately, when I decided to take a leave after fifteen years, I was neither mailing it in or suffering through my days, but when something has been a source of much joy and inspiration – as interacting with my students had been – it is hard to accept quiet resignation.

So, back to Pearl’s equation…  what should be the time-line we place on nagging doubts and intuitive rumblings?  One of Oprah’s insights has always resonated with me — she believes the universe (or God, or intuition) sends pebbles that become rocks that become boulders.  So, maybe Pearl’s equation can become:  Wait until the pebbles become rocks, but then move fast to avoid the boulders?

By the way… please notice the beautiful photo featured in this post — I will be proudly displaying Gallebee‘s work and recommend that you check out her site.  And, if you enjoy metaphor, I do choose photos that echo theme in each post — feel free to guess how!  Thank you for reminding us how beautiful the world around us is, Sarah!

Welcome back!