Published: April 04, 2008 10:47 am      

We're becoming a lost society because we refuse to read

It’s time for me to get a dirty little secret off my chest: Two weeks ago, I bought Spark Notes for “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.”

“You don’t need to do this,” I told myself. “Just try to read like you always do; it can’t be that bad.”

Normally, I would follow my conscience.

But I was busy, and trudging through a 500-page tome in just a few days, with countless other important things going on, seemed daunting.

So, off to Barnes and Noble I went.

Once there, I found my target, the dumbed-down copy of a book widely credited with nudging America toward Civil War, on a shelf alongside other light versions of literary classics.

Like an inept shoplifter, I slipped the “book” under an arm and walked sheepishly to the register, trying desperately to avoid making eye contact.

Alas, I couldn’t.

“Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” I heard the cashier say.

“What a great book.”

“What have I just done?” I thought. “I’ve become one of them.”

A recent study by the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) suggests that nearly half of 18- to-24-year-olds didn’t read a book for pleasure in 2005.

And an AP-Ipsos poll from late last year found that one in four adults did not read a book in 2007.

On the eve of the American Library Association’s National Library Week (April 13-19), it looks as if Americans could use some directions to their local libraries.

Even we college students, supposedly a pretty educated bunch, have thumbed our noses at reading. In fact, one in three college seniors never reads for pleasure.

And we’re worse off because of it.

We do have compelling reasons for our disregard for books: Reading is boring, hard and, well, not worth the trouble. Why take hours to read a book when you can get the gist in 10 minutes?

Plus, look how much other stuff we have on our plates. Where can I fit reading into my rigorous schedule of partying, video-gaming and napping?

Just buy Spark Notes.

As reading has declined, Spark Notes sales have remained steady. The publisher, owned by Barnes and Noble, reported in 2006 that it has sold 10 million copies since its launch in 1999.

But Spark Notes, or any other study guide, is a poor substitute for reading a real book.

It might seem passé, but there’s something irreplaceable, almost indescribable, about opening a book and spending hours losing yourself in it, page after page. It’s an activity that’s almost too active, too engaging, for our multimedia-saturated lives.

We want the information to come to us, not the other way around.

I learned this firsthand when I breezed through “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” – well, a 50-page version of it – in less than an hour.

Sitting in class on the day of discussion, a shroud of anxiety surrounded me as the conversation shifted from basic plot elements to the author’s style and language.

I had no idea what kind of language Harriet Beecher Stowe used. Why should I even care? I knew the story well enough.

I realized my flawed logic once my angst subsided.

Language and style are just as important to a great book as the story itself. If the author’s style isn’t there, chances are the story won’t be quite the same either.

What would Shakespeare be without the rhythmic patterns of iambic pentameter? Vonnegut without personal injections and satiric prose?

When we don’t read, we miss an opportunity to see the grand potential of our language. We limit ourselves to the humdrum of daily conversation.

We also become dumber.

As reading has declined, so, too, have reading literacy and critical thinking. In November, the NEA reported that students who read for fun performed much better on reading tests than those who don’t.

That much seems pretty obvious.

However, the study suggests that students with limited access to books have lower math and science scores as well.

Our ability to write coherently has also suffered.

I remember my high school English teacher’s lectures about the benefits of reading.

“You can’t write well unless you read,” she would say.

It’s cliché, but it’s true. Our greatest writers have always looked to their predecessors for influence and inspiration. All of them have read the greats to become great themselves.

We’re robbing ourselves of that chance.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some unfinished business to tend to. I’m going to read “Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” the 509-page version.

I hear it’s a pretty good book.



Ryan Wilk of Bedford is a journalism major at Penn State and an occasional sports stringer for The Tribune-Democrat.