Among my computer literate associates, there seems an almost invisible line right around age 30 or so. Those below that line who are serious netizens don’t read books that much. Those older typically do.
Right now I’m starting what amounts to a re-read of some Oklahoma History. The textbook we used in teachers’ college was the latest edition then, but I stumbled across a much earlier version from the 1960s. Frankly, our slightly fatter later edition was less readable. Apparently what I found in a thrift store last week was the first edition: Oklahoma: A History of Five Centuries by Arrell M. Gibson, a professor at University of Oklahoma, where it was published (Harlow Publishing).
I was also reading Bamford’s Body of Secrets, finding that at the Friends of the Library book sale. Right about half-way through it got a little too intense for me, but I’ll get back to it probably next week.
I confess I’m a little harder to please these days. I once went through a period of about two decades devouring anything which claimed to be science fiction, plus a lot of fantasy. It started with Ray Bradbury novels. One day, I simply lost interest. Over the years I’ve plowed through several different genre. Upon starting my work toward a teaching certificate, I became a fan of social science books. I still love good history, and even still enjoy some economics, but frankly I prefer what is called social history, a sort of everyday life in some time and place.
Once I got online, I read far fewer books. It took a lot of my time just to figure out what being online meant, and what was my place there. But that thrill is gone, as they say, and books are calling me again. Even while I was digging into the Internet, most of my books were not for entertainment, but seeking information. Lots of computer books took my money, and I still have quite a few. But that’s not the sort of thing one simply reads, but uses for reference. Once I retired, I started reading more books for pleasure.
Lately publishers are simply pumping out the pulpy trash. The system for putting both fiction and non-fiction on the shelves of most stores is tightly closed. I haven’t seen much at all, even in places like Borders or Barnes and Noble, which I would buy if I could afford whatever I wanted. Most modern fiction from the big publishers is lifeless junk. I wouldn’t trade a dead rat’s patootie for what the reviewers call a good novel these days, since the reviewers are also owned by the same system. You hear about only because some thinks it will make a buck. Most of what I find nowadays worth buying is the stuff nobody publishes any more.
Still, I’m always keeping my eye out for good stuff hidden in the piles of tomes justly discarded because they weren’t worth the paper on which they were printed. The real treasures will never make into any electronic format, either. So I am slowly building a library of solid reading. Yep, some of us still think books matter.
