There’s an inherent difference between the feelings someone has after reading a whole book in one day than they would if they had just finished a whole season of something in one day. I am someone well versed in both, having most recently watched all of Netflix’s "Daredevil" season two on the day it premiered and this past week having read all of Albert Camus’s "The Stranger." While the time difference it took me to accomplish both was vastly different, 13 hours for "Daredevil "and only three hours for "The Stranger," I had very different feelings.

Watching all of "Daredevil" in one sitting I questioned my life choices. I sat on my bed in the dark wondering if I would regret doing nothing with my day, whether I could’ve done more productive things or enjoyed the outdoors. I asked myself what I do now. If I had simply spread the season out over a couple of days then I would have something to do for the weekend, instead, I was left to search online and try and discover a new television series to sate my thirst.

Reading Camus’s "The Stranger" in one sitting, over the course of a flight to Chicago, I didn’t ask myself the same questions. I had expected to finish it over the course of the week, and yet I finished it on my first day, before even arriving in Chicago. Instead I asked myself about the novel, what I liked about it, what I disliked, I analyzed it. This did happen to me with "Daredevil" but it did not happen as quickly. While finishing "Daredevil" my mind was in disbelief and I felt like a slouch, finishing the book my mind was proud. I felt as if I hadn’t wasted any time in my day, that reading this book was utterly worth every second I poured into it and that it was even more rewarding that I didn’t have to pause off at any climatic or suspenseful moments, but that I was able to digest the novel as a whole.

The major difference here is that while I loved "Daredevil" and mildly enjoyed "The Stranger", I felt better about myself reading something that I had minor likings for rather than finishing a television series with which I loved. To me it speaks mountains about our culture and how as media continues to grow and get larger, we seem to be shrinking away from classic stories and novels. "The Stranger" was published in France in 1942, and the only reason I picked it up is because I wanted to read something that came from France and that this was a classic. I had no real drive behind it like I did with "Daredevil", and yet I devoured it and felt better about it in the end. Maybe it is a testament to how creative and excellent scripts are getting for movies and television that people will sit and binge watch entire series in a weekend or day, but to me there will never be that same rewarding feeling that occurs when doing that with a book or series of books. Call it foolish imagination, but I think that maybe binge reading should start becoming the latest trend.