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paired reading
Mar. 8th, 2004 11:47 pmUsually, a paired reading means that I'm reading one book in bed and carrying another around with me. And perhaps a third was left at work or at a friend's house, and read when I'm there. So I read a few chapters of one book, then put it down and do something else, then I'll read a few chapters of the other book, and so on. Audiobooks are changing all that for me. They make it easy to listen to a book "in the background," while doing something else. Taken to an extreme, this can lead to reading one book while listening to another. I'm not sure there are many book combinations for which this would be a good idea.
It happened to me yesterday morning, for the first time. I've been reading _If I Were You_, because...well, one might say this happened because I went to the Somerville library on Saturday, and took home as much as I could reasonably carry. (I hadn't been to that library in a couple of years, but my "home" library is still recovering from a frozen-pipe flood in early Janary, and their main fiction room is closed off. I've been making do with audiobooks, paperbacks and YA, all of which which they keep elsewhere.) Anyhow, I'm reading the Aiken in situations that are reasonably warm, dry and well-lit. Otherwise, I'm listening to a collection of LeGuin short stories, on a tape recorder that fits in my coat pocket.
Yesterday was spring, so after a lovely birthday celebration involving dim sum and cake, www.livejournal.com/users/n0ire/48355 I walked all the way home, mostly in the dark, wearing down the battery and listening to various people talk about kemmerhouses and romantic complications ending in 4-person religiously-prescribed marriages. I got home and took my coat off, with the tape recorder with it, of course. The book I read over dinner, and when I was getting ready to go this morning, was _If I Were You_.
This morning, it was no longer spring. It was snowing. I had to scramble to find another battery for the tape player on my way out the door, because one really shouldn't try to read library books in the snow, or even freezing rain. (Last weekend, somebody took me shopping and got me AA batteries, which turned out to be very useful. I feel loved.) I am a little surprised at myself, being able to scavenge the battery and change it out while still reading _If I Were You_, and not dropping anything. The book went into my backpack and I listened to the end of _Mountain Ways_ and the beginning of _Unchosen Love_, while walking to the bus stop in the town center. Once on the bus, I opened my backpack to get my water bottle. There I was, with a book I didn't want to put down, and 20 minutes of reasonable light and shelter. The book was right there in my HAND. What would you have done?
Maybe I should have turned off the tape. Or put down the book. But I couldn't decide which. (Ok, ok. Sometimes I'm indecisive. Sometimes I'm greedy.) I was mostly focused on Alvey and the Winships, having just reached the part where James is coming home with Guy. When I put the book away and got off the bus, I realized that these people needed a sedoretu. I'm not sure how it would work out, at this point, but I know there should be something like that.
Both books lose fine detail from being read simultaneously, but there's something to be said for the experience. (I haven't decided what. Something.) Any other paired readings to recommend, in case I decide to approach this kind of insight again on purpose? Maybe I'll read Aiken while listening to Jane Austen, though that probably isn't a sharp enough contrast to be revelatory. My audiobook selection is limited to the library collections, and I don't know what their purchase criteria are.
It happened to me yesterday morning, for the first time. I've been reading _If I Were You_, because...well, one might say this happened because I went to the Somerville library on Saturday, and took home as much as I could reasonably carry. (I hadn't been to that library in a couple of years, but my "home" library is still recovering from a frozen-pipe flood in early Janary, and their main fiction room is closed off. I've been making do with audiobooks, paperbacks and YA, all of which which they keep elsewhere.) Anyhow, I'm reading the Aiken in situations that are reasonably warm, dry and well-lit. Otherwise, I'm listening to a collection of LeGuin short stories, on a tape recorder that fits in my coat pocket.
Yesterday was spring, so after a lovely birthday celebration involving dim sum and cake, www.livejournal.com/users/n0ire/48355 I walked all the way home, mostly in the dark, wearing down the battery and listening to various people talk about kemmerhouses and romantic complications ending in 4-person religiously-prescribed marriages. I got home and took my coat off, with the tape recorder with it, of course. The book I read over dinner, and when I was getting ready to go this morning, was _If I Were You_.
This morning, it was no longer spring. It was snowing. I had to scramble to find another battery for the tape player on my way out the door, because one really shouldn't try to read library books in the snow, or even freezing rain. (Last weekend, somebody took me shopping and got me AA batteries, which turned out to be very useful. I feel loved.) I am a little surprised at myself, being able to scavenge the battery and change it out while still reading _If I Were You_, and not dropping anything. The book went into my backpack and I listened to the end of _Mountain Ways_ and the beginning of _Unchosen Love_, while walking to the bus stop in the town center. Once on the bus, I opened my backpack to get my water bottle. There I was, with a book I didn't want to put down, and 20 minutes of reasonable light and shelter. The book was right there in my HAND. What would you have done?
Maybe I should have turned off the tape. Or put down the book. But I couldn't decide which. (Ok, ok. Sometimes I'm indecisive. Sometimes I'm greedy.) I was mostly focused on Alvey and the Winships, having just reached the part where James is coming home with Guy. When I put the book away and got off the bus, I realized that these people needed a sedoretu. I'm not sure how it would work out, at this point, but I know there should be something like that.
Both books lose fine detail from being read simultaneously, but there's something to be said for the experience. (I haven't decided what. Something.) Any other paired readings to recommend, in case I decide to approach this kind of insight again on purpose? Maybe I'll read Aiken while listening to Jane Austen, though that probably isn't a sharp enough contrast to be revelatory. My audiobook selection is limited to the library collections, and I don't know what their purchase criteria are.
