As an introvert, I take great pleasure in being with myself. There are some nights (maybe even most nights) where I would rather drink obscene amounts of tea with the fluffiest blanket I can find and my newest literary obsession than be surrounded by a mass of drunks and flashing lights. One night last year, I decided I would do just that. In order to get some needed alone time I took up sanctuary in a study room just down the hall. After reading for quite a while, a friend of mine popped in to say hello and we got to talking. She asked me, "what are you reading?" and when I replied with the title her response with a confused and almost disgusted expression on her face was "why?" I was kind of taken back by her reaction and I just said, "because I wanted to. I haven't read it a long time and I love it so...." After that, she told me to have a great night and I wished her the same.
When she closed the door, I started to analyze the situation over again in my head and asked myself, "why was she confused that I was reading because I wanted to? Is this not a thing anymore?" I then realized I don't really know very many people who read for pleasure anymore. It's slightly understandable considering we're in college and have to read passage upon passage in textbooks but, really? What happened to just reading because you want to? Anytime I turn up in public with a book in my hand I get the most bewildered looks from people when I tell them it isn't for a class.
I think the reason reading for pleasure has lost it's appeal among college age students is because it's associated with studying for a class and when a college kid hears read, the reaction from some and maybe even most is "ew, why?" The other reason maybe because most people don't feel like they have the time to read an entire novel on top of all of the work they already have to do.
Reading for pleasure needs to be the ultimate comeback kid. As we grow older and grow more aware of the world that live in that has it's fair share of sadness and tragedy, our imaginations deteriorate. Our imaginations crumble under the weight of our adult worries and stresses. The imagination flourishes best when it's drowned in stories and planted in wonder.
Maybe if reading for pleasure came back more people would speak how they thought rather than dumbing down their words for their audience with the fear of judgement. Maybe if reading for pleasure came back people wouldn't have to escape their everyday lives in the most volatile ways. If reading for pleasure came back stronger and better than ever, the world would sure be a lot more intellectually open than we are now.
