Unread books make many readers feel guilty. Librarians, teachers and bookstore owners are also familiar with this phenomenon. But why is this happening?
There's a book sitting on a shelf in my room that regularly catches my attention and fills me with the exact terror I feel when I accidentally make eye contact with an ex at a crowded party. Look away! screams my brain. But it's too late. Regret, shame, and anger wash over me, and I find myself once again in a silent stalemate with the book I keep wanting to read but never do.
It's not long or a classic, and it's certainly not the only book I own that haven't finished reading. But something about the spine of the book always catches my eye and reminds me again and again (and again and again) of broken promises and literary inadequacies. One day I'll definitely finally pick up ZZ Packer's Drinking Coffee Elsewhere. Or?
At least I'm not alone. We asked readers of our book club newsletter whether they, too, have unread books that make them feel guilty. And, oh man, they all do. The good news: Librarians and teachers, avowed fans of long-winded, complex books, and even bookstore owners have similar tales of woe to tell. Some of the books on the list are exactly what you might expect. "Ulysses, of course," wrote Russell Pittman of Takoma Park, Md. and Scott E. Malan of Boulder, Colo. wasn't the only one who still hasn't read Don Quixote, but he was the only one who wondered: "Is keeping a book in the 'next to read' pile the same as fighting windmills? without reading it?”
Still, many of the titles were surprising. As well as the reasons why readers have not yet reached for the attractive pages. Here's a snapshot of what people aren't reading and why.
Life is too short
Many respondents had a simple reason why they didn't pick up that one book: There's only so much time in the day.
There are choices to be made,” wrote Terry Witowsky, who has long wanted to read Peter Frankopan’s “The Silk Roads: A New History of the World” for five years. “Do I read the entire 505 pages of 'The Silk Roads' or do I enjoy the new novel by Ann Patchett? In these lazy, hazy days of summer (or any time, really) that's a no-brainer. Ann wins, clearly. But maybe come September, when the school buses roll through the neighborhood again and crisp fall days bring back memories of browsing through fallen leaves on the way to school, I'll commit to reading up on centuries of world history.
Part of the “Life is too short” faction specifically highlighted the time-sensitive advantages of library books. Bev Robertson of Kent, Ohio, wanted "The Autobiography of Mark Twain: Volume 1" for Christmas - in 2010. "But I have a bad habit of putting off reading books that I own because I... forever, and the books I borrow from the library have a specific time limit,” she wrote. “It has a cool cover, though, so I’ve been enjoying it for over a decade, if that counts.”
It's discouraging
There are various reasons why a book can seem intimidating. For some, it's the length (Beth Sutton-Ramspeck hasn't read Tristram Shandy because, among other things, "it's 647 pages of tiny, tiny print"); for others it is complexity (see: “Ulysses,” above); and for still others it is...the weight? That's one reason John Nash of Los Alamos, NM, avoids Robert Caro's colossal biography of Robert Moses, "The Power Broker." “It's just heavy, and that physical weight also weighs on my mind when I have to lift it while reading,” he writes.
It's easy to put away
Some people have tried – really! – but they can’t empathize with the book. This is what happens to Virginia Van Vliet from Toronto. She owns three copies of Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace and has already started it four times. “But I was always interrupted, and when I returned I couldn’t tell my Alexandrova from my Ilyinichna,” the retired librarian wrote. “A student once said to me, ‘You haven’t read War and Peace? Oh, Mrs. Van! But you have to! The last hundred pages may be a bit too philosophical for you, but you can handle the rest.' (She later became a doctor, I hope her interaction with patients has improved.)”
If you never finish reading it, it never ends
There are indeed heartwarming reasons why people avoid reading books. Fifteen years ago, Corinne Fargo of Portland, Oregon, purchased a copy of Across the Wall by Garth Nix, along with the rest of Nix's Abhorsen series. "Sabriel was the first book that I literally couldn't put down until I finished it, and each book in the series has a special place in my mind," she wrote. “Still, I can't bring myself to read the last short story about the Old Kingdom, because I'm sure that if I don't read it, the world is still alive and I can always go back to a new story with familiar characters can immerse myself.”
The fear of disappointment
For other readers, high expectations lead to selective paralysis. Sarah Andrews, from Belfast, discovered John Boyne in 2018 while crying her way through The Heart's Invisible Furies. "I immediately put it on my favorites shelf and bought 'A Ladder to the Sky,'" she wrote. But it “has remained untouched ever since, for fear that the second time around it might not be as wonderful as the first time.”
A bad feeling – literally
John Andrew Crawford of Melbourne, Australia, was looking forward to Garth Risk Hallberg's 2015 novel City on Fire, but something in particular turned him off. “It’s a tactile thing,” he wrote. “I didn’t like the font. And the slightly slimy paper quality (very similar to the print quality of school books - did that put me off?) seemed like it was a bit 'style over substance'."
It's something personal
A number of people shared bittersweet stories about why certain books remained unread. Gail L. Martino of Louisville, Ohio, has not read Call the Darkness Light by Nancy Zaroulis, which she found on her mother's bookshelf. The fact that her mother has now lost almost all of her sight, hearing and "all of her earliest memories" may be the reason the book is untouched. “Perhaps I feel guilty that she won’t be able to enjoy it,” Martino wrote, “and I feel just as worried that I might actually enjoy this book.”
Jim Beaver of Everett, Washington, was given a copy of Milton's "Paradise Lost" as a child by his father after he asked his parents about Satan's fall from grace. “I have carried this book with me through three different states and at least 35 years and still have not read it,” he wrote, “but the memory of my father keeps it on every shelf I will ever own.”
One of the most touching messages came from Charlie Connelly, who lives in Scotland. I reprint his post on JW Ocker's "The New England Grimpendium: A Guide to Macabre and Ghastly Sites" in its entirety; it's a little long, but don't let that stop you. Unlike some of the other books on your shelf, you'll want to read this book to the end.
“It was sent to me about 10 years ago by a friend in Arizona. Brian did this sort of thing, sending random gifts to distant friends because he was the nicest person in the world.
He had seen the book in a bookstore and thought I would like it. I'm not sure why; I have no connection to New England and no particular interest in visiting places where bad things have happened. But I was touched that he had discovered it and thought, 'I'll buy this for Charlie,' and then he went to the trouble of buying it and sending it to me on the other side of the Atlantic.
I hope you like it!” he wrote on the accompanying letter. Let me know what you think!
I flipped through the pages, put it on the shelf, and sent Brian a thank you note.
Shortly afterwards, Brian suffered a massive heart attack. He was in intensive care, and his friends around the world - of which there were many because he was the nicest guy in the world - waited in fear for the news that, when it came, was the worst imaginable could.
He was far too young and left behind a wife and a daughter for whom he had given everything. The grief among his friends was as great as it was worldwide.
The New England Grimpendium still sits on my shelf and has survived several moves and countless visits to charity shops.
I was just flipping through the pages before writing this. They are now yellowed at the edges because time passes, even without Brian. I lost the note that came with the book and it is unlabeled, so there is no tangible connection to my friend in the book itself. But as long as it sits here, unread, I like to imagine that Brian is still out there, across the sea, hoping I like it and waiting for me to tell him.
We are currently testing machine translations. This article was automatically translated from English into German.
This article was first published in English on September 5, 2023 at the “Washingtonpost.com” - as part of a cooperation, it is now also available in translation to readers of the IPPEN.MEDIA portals.