So little read...so much to say...

I didn't post on my reading in this space last year. I don't recall why. Perhaps it was laziness. Perhaps I'd had some of my illusions about the utility of what I tried to learn faced with an unpleasant reality. Perhaps I was simply tired. In any case, I look back at 2018 and see some things I wish I'd seen in 2019.

I can see reading in 2018 focused on the job I held at the time: learn as much as you can about a topic, get shifted to another project, and try again. That was...fun. I can see some effort at professional development. I can see a turn to the unexpected (and unpleasant) news of a new job on a new continent and an effort to wrestle with that new challenge. I also see some secondary passion, some general interest, and some frivolity.

It's odd to look back on 2018 (and previous years) in my reading and compare the effort and rationale to this year. The long commutes with time to read and reflect have been traded for longer hours with neither time to read nor reflect...for "reasons." (So. Many. Reasons.) The idea that a book I read might matter in how I perform by duties has been traded for the knowledge that this matters very little to anyone around or above me: "That's not your job."

So, I read a lot less this year than last.* In the end, that's not a tragedy. I read MUCH less that anyone might construe as having anything to do with my current assignment. That's a tragedy, I think...but I'm the only one. I read a great deal more poetry than in recent years, and that is NOT a tragedy. I read some fiction--both outstanding art and delightful pablum and at least one title combining the two--but I wonder at why in some cases. I read a few titles driven by my interest in Africa, an interest difficult to maintain in the face of circumstance; I regret none, and I wish I'd read more...but this is what the coming year is for. I read several books driven by a desire to understand the things I see and the places I go in the place I live; I've been lucky in those titles, and I hope to remain so as I frequent Amazon more often than I should...and less often than I'd like.

I wonder if I should weigh in on the best and worst of what I read this year, but in the aggregate I find myself thinking, "It depends." Some were extraordinary, and some were not...but opinions vary. Some were a waste...but might not be for someone else. From some I leaned more than expected...and others might learn nothing. Since I'm thinking about my reading and not reviewing books, I'll not weigh in on specific titles here. Maybe I'll do that elsewhere...and I'm happy to discuss....but not today.

In the end, this was a year too random, I think. (It didn't begin that way, but it and I were overcome.) There were gems, but they were uncovered as part of a drunkard's walk rather than a deliberate search. While there is something to be said for the former and the possibility of serendipity, room for serendipity doesn't make sense of the books I've read and the time I've spent.

The part of this year that raises the greatest distress: I've read some...I've thought a bit...and I've written nothing. (To be fair, some of the compensations in traveling Europe have been lovely.) Perhaps I had nothing to say...but in reading the things some think they have to say, this may be doing myself a disservice. Perhaps I focused more on others than on me...and that may be a good thing. Perhaps I lack the time...but this is the excuse too easy to offer. Perhaps I lack the discipline...and this is my new fear. The latter issues are to one degree or another within my control, however.

The secret to solving these problems of reading, thinking, and writing--if problems they are--may be in a simple commitment to writing. If the wish is to write, once must write. And if the wish is for direction; I hold with Scharnhorst:

"The drafting of a report reveals gaps in knowledge, whether in various disciplines, in presentation, or in language. The drafting of a short essay is sometimes more useful to the writer than the reading of a thick book. — These are known truths."

Looking back at the clumsiness of the preceding suggests that I need practice in the craft...and an editor. I can do better this coming year. It remains to be seen if I shall.

* A note on method is perhaps worthwhile. I include only those work read from end to end for the first time. I do not include books previously read, and I do not include those books I've "gutted," reading introductions and conclusions, extracting the minimum necessary content to place the work in a broader literature as fast as possible. I can do this, and I have done this; it's not wrong, but I'm doing a different kind of virtue signalling, I suppose. I also do not include audio books; that's a separate debate in which I don't intend to engage here.