ATLANTIC READINGS
Number 17
ON READING IN RELATION
TO LITERATURE
BY
LAFCADIO HEARN
The Atlantic Monthly Press, Inc.
BOSTON
Copyright, 1921, by
THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS
[Pg 1]
As the term approaches its close, I wish to keep my promiseregarding a series of lectures relating to literary life andwork, to be given independently of texts or authorities,and to represent, as far as possible, the results of practicalexperience among the makers of literature in differentcountries. The subject for this term will be Reading—apparently,perhaps, a very simple subject, but really not sosimple as it looks, and much more important than you maythink it. I shall begin this lecture by saying that very fewpersons know how to read. Considerable experience withliterature is needed before taste and discrimination canpossibly be acquired; and without these, it is almost impossibleto learn how to read. I say almost impossible; sincethere are some rare men who, through a natural inborntaste, through a kind of inherited literary instinct, are ableto read very well even before reaching the age of twenty-fiveyears. But these are great exceptions, and I am speakingof the average.
For, to read the characters or the letters of the text doesnot mean reading in the true sense. You will often findyourselves reading words or characters automatically, evenpronouncing them quite correctly, while your minds areoccupied with a totally different subject. This mere mechanismof reading becomes altogether automatic at anearly period of life, and can be performed irrespective of attention.Neither can I call it reading, to extract the narrativeportion of a text from the rest simply for one’s personal[Pg 2]amusement, or, in other words, to read a book “for thestory.” Yet most of the reading that is done in the worldis done in exactly this way. Thousands and thousandsof books are bought every year, every month, I might evensay every day, by people who do not read at all. They onlythink that they read. They buy books just to amuse themselves,“to kill time,” as they call it; in one hour or twotheir eyes have passed over all the pages, and there is left intheir minds a vague idea or two about what they have beenlooking at; and this they really believe is reading. Nothingis more common than to be asked, “Have you read such abook?” or to hear somebody say, “I have read such andsuch a book.” But these persons do not speak seriously.Out of a thousand persons who say, “I have read this,” or“I have read that,” there is not one perhaps who is able toexpress any opinion worth hearing about what he has beenreading. Many and many a time I hear students say thatthey have read certain books; but if I ask them some questionsregarding the book, I find that they are not able tomake any answer, or at best, they will only repeat somethingthat somebody else has said about what they thinkthat they have been reading. But this is not peculiar tostudents; it is in all countries the way that the great publicdevours books. And to conclude this introductory part ofthe lecture, I would say that the difference between thegreat