I began reading Francine Prose’s Reading Like a Writer earlier this week. I’m not as far as Dorothy who at last post was up through chapter five on narration. I just finished chapter four on paragraphs.
So far I am not quite sure what to think of the book. Even though the subtitle of the book is A Guide for People Who Love Books and for Those Who Want to Write Them, I don’t feel like it’s for readers, at least not the kind of reader I am or really want to be. Maybe this will change later as Prose moves out from words, sentences and paragraphs.
There is something that bothers me about Prose’s tone. I feel as though I am sitting in a classroom and she is one of those know-it-all professors you don’t dare question. Her idea of close reading is dissecting a book word by word. She admits,
Reading this way requires a certain amount of stamina, concentration, and patience. But it also has its great rewards, among them the excitement of approaching, as nearly as you can hope to come, the hand and mind of the artist. It’s something like the way you experience a master painting, a Rembrandt or a Velasquez, by viewing it from not only far away but also up close, in order to see the brushstrokes.
I don’t have the stamina, concentration or patience to read this way, nor do I want to. I might scrupulously read a passage or, at most, a chapter, in this way, but not a whole book. I think it might make me go crazy if I tried it.
Putting on my writer hat, Prose hasn’t, thus far, offered anything new or interesting. Read good writing and read widely; keep books of writers who write good sentences near your desk for reference; read your writing out loud. With this latter point she includes an anecdote about a poet who was reading a draft of a new poem aloud when someone broke into his apartment. The burglar turned and ran out, providing Prose with the opportunity to suggest that reading aloud will not only improve your writing, but may also save your life. Right.
In these beginning chapters, Prose includes passages from authors like Babel, Chekhov, Hemingway, Joyce and others to aid her in her discussion. Most of the time I feel as though she is telling me what I should think of something and not really explaining why I should think that way. Once in awhile she does, like when she discusses the ending of Joyce’s story “The Dead.” Here she pulls out words from the paragraph, pointing out how they affect the tone, make it poetic; how these repeated words “falling” and “faintly” in various combinations make, not only beautiful sentences but a beautiful paragraph too and even help tie together the whole story. This is good, this is the kind of stuff I was expecting. Unfortunately she isn’t doing it enough. Maybe the chapters I haven’t read yet will be better.
Dorothy W. said:
Yeah, I agree. There’s an awful lot of “well, the author does an amazing thing here; it’s hard to say why it’s amazing, but it is.” And there’s no way I’m reading as slowly as she suggests all the time. I would like to read that way occasionally, when I’m re-reading something or teaching it, but it just can’t be a regular practice. I’m finding the book most useful for teaching, actually, which is a context in which I’d read as closely as she suggests. But even then, her description of her teaching sounded a bit boring. I do appreciate the book as a reminder of the artistry that goes into good writing — but it’s more of a reminder than something new.
LikeLike
litlove said:
I really need to catch up with you and Dorothy on this! I have to say your posts have made me intrigued to see what’s going on here. I’ll devote some time to this on the weekend as I love the thought of the three of us reading this alongside one another.
LikeLike
Emily said:
Oh, you all are tempting me to pick up my copy…
LikeLike
Brad said:
You make me want to go back and reread Prose’s book. Based on the number of books like this that are published every year, I wonder how many are written only because they are an easy sell. Readers love to read about books and reading, and many also dream about becoming writers. I know I have a hard time not buying this type of book when a new one is published.
LikeLike
Cipriano said:
Really interesting post, Stefanie. I have not read the Francine Prose book, but my friend has read it, and she really liked it, overall. There are so many reading styles, mine being somewhat methodical. I have often described myself as a voracious reader, but if voracious means “devouring in great quantity” than I have been using the wrong word. I read so slowly it is crazy. I am an “intense” reader, perhaps. Maybe this is something like Prose is talking about. I read almost always in front of my computer, making notes on what I am reading. Plus, my reading takes place in those times when I have at least a half-hour window. Minimum. My preferable “window” is more like three or four hours!
I am not one of those people that can read in snippets of three or four minutes at a time, like while stirring the soup, or while vacuuming. In some ways, I envy people that can do this. Like STEAL moments from the day, and just read in spurts, along with more intense reading sessions.
For me, it seems that every reading session is intense. Hence, I do not get through many books, really.
I sort of tend to do what Prose is suggesting here… dissecting the book.
I have a very wandering attention span though [concentration-wise]…. and I envy people that can so quickly shut off the periphery and use any available moment to re-immerse themselves in their book.
Me. My God, I almost need to do some tai-chi first… some stretching exercises, get my coffee all ready, turn the laptop on, floss, sometimes put earplugs in, all this stuff…. THEN I open the book.
I would never wish this malady upon anyone, nor suggest it is the only way to go about the reading process [as I gather Prose may be doing].
To each his own. However we do it, the important thing should be TO do it!
LikeLike
J.S. Peyton said:
I’m also in the middle of reading this book and I must say that I completely agree with your comments. I’m a voracious reader and a sometime writer, so it would seem that this book would be perfect for me. So far, not so. I’m still trying to give Ms. Prose a fair shake, hoping, like you, that the chapers get better the further I read. I wanted to enjoy this book, but instead I’ve found that I can only read bits at a time before I put it down for something else. I’m still trying though…
LikeLike
Sandra said:
Oh, such a shame that this book is not hitting the spot for you Stefanie. I read it (actually devoured it) at the beginning of this year and it really hit a chord with me; possibly because it was the first book that I’d personally found that looked at writing craft/technique from the point of view of a reader and not just a ‘how to’ type manual. Whilst I don’t always read as closely as she suggests I have found myself deconstructing favourite passages (or being more confident on why writing doesn’t work) after reading her book. It sounds like she hasn’t much to teach you … any suggestions of similar books that worked better for you?
LikeLike
Anna Clark said:
I got the same vibe from the book–that it was sliding into pretension and little substance. I do appreciate the art of reading slowly and deconstructing *how* a writer does what she or he does; I’ve been trying to build my own skills at recognizing and articulating the *how* when I read because I believe it helps me become a better writer. I picked up Prose’s book because I thought it might give me some ideas for making that journey easier for me. But I was sincerely surprised at how lightweight it is, for all its lofty intentions. Perhaps it would’ve been better if she stuck with one or two texts for most of the book–and given us readers the opportunity realize the rewards of close attention. As it is, she jumps among writers in a way that undercuts her professed goal: to read closely. We get no more than glances and the gentle, obvious ‘takeaway’ that Stefanie describes…
LikeLike
John Mutford said:
You’re certainly not motivating me to read this book anytime soon! It reminds me of a contestant I had seen on Jeopardy a couple of years ago. He stuck out to me because he had just returned from a trip to Churchill, Manitoba as did I and my wife. His little story that he told Alex Trebek in the between rounds banter was about how he improved the quality of lives for the good people of Churchill by showing them how to prepare mussels in a white wine sauce rather than the local way; simply boiling them in salted water. I remembered thinking that yes, the white wine sauce sounded good, but I’m sure the people of Churchill had been enjoying the mussels quite fine before this. There is, as you say, a certain amount of pretention in assuming your way is the only way. Maybe if the suggestions weren’t presented so arrogantly, some people might benefit from the suggestions while others would might decide to continue on happily as before.
LikeLike
Stefanie said:
Dorothy, it’s good that you are finding a way to make the book useful. It would be very interesting to sit in on one of her classes to see if they are as boring as them seem they might be. Maybe you could nip up to New York sometime and sneak into one 😉
I am very much looking forward to what you think or her Litlove.
Do it Emily, do it!
I know what you mean Brad. I am an easy mark for this kind of book, and given the abundance of them over the last few years I wonder if it’s the authors looking for extra sales, or the publishers wanting to make easy money.
Cipriano, you are right that it is the quality of the reading and the act of reading that matters. Your reading warm-ups made me laugh and worry about your stress level. have you ever tried carrying a frivolous book with you that doesn’t require note-taking for those short time spans?
J.S. I am glad I am not the only one who is having difficulty with the book. I really want to enjoy it too and, like you, am trying to give Prose a fair chance. I’ll be interested to see how it all pans out.
Sandra, I remember when you read the book. I got very excited by how much you liked it. I haven’t read any other books that focus on the reading aspect of writing, that’s why I was excited about this one. I took a class a year ago called reading for writers and found that much more instructive than Prose’s book. But, it’s still early, so maybe things will turn around and I will end up loving the book.
Anna, you’ve hit the nail on the head. Lightweight is a good description. I was expecting more.
John, that’s a great story! I am feeling a certain amount of resentment, as though Prose is suggesting I’m not really reading unless I winkle out the nuance of every single word, and figure out each sentence and paragraph. She’s not really saying that her way is the only way, but the manner in which she writes gets my hackles up.
LikeLike
Pingback: Reading Like A Writer « Tales from the Reading Room
Pingback: Reading like a Writer II « Of Books and Bicycles