Reading Middlemarch

Lisa Schiffren at NRO asks "whether books are dead?", which really translates into the question of whether we have the patience any longer to give ourselves up to the hours of real solitude, as opposed to virtual conversation, that it takes to read real literature. She writes:

As a matter of fact, after several failed attempts, two of which may have occurred before the advent of the Internet — which was, therefore not to blame, I have finally read, in full, George Eliot's masterpiece, Middlemarch. To be sure, it required extraordinary measures, including turning off my computer on weekends, sitting in computer-free places indoors and out, foregoing nightly TV talk fests for a while, and neglecting facebook entirely. To be honest, it also helped that I persuaded my book club to make it the September book — giving us much of the summer, and creating both peer pressure and a deadline. That I missed nothing important, and actually recreated the formerly familiar, almost-zen state of submerging oneself in an author's created world for hours at a time, has made it hard to go back to newish bad habits.

What I gained was substantial. I am prepared to conclude, in the company of a long line of readers, that Middlemarch is the greatest English novel ever written. (Of course, that matters little if our culture is giving up serious literature entirely.) The author's insights into human psychology are stunning, even 140 years later, when we are all presumably much more sophisticated about motives and thought processes. Furthermore, I forgive my younger self for not sticking with it. It is no book for a 20-year-old — or even a busy 30-year-old. Even if I had read it back then, rereading it at mid-life would yeild far greater insight. Life experience makes a real difference. I recall being too upset to by Dorothea's headstrong act of self-immolation in marrying Causabon in a state of total misapprehension of who and what he was the first time I tried. Now it seems clear enough that we all walk blind into many of our choices in life — and some of them don't work out.

Literature teaches wisdom. Reading teaches patience. Those are two very important skills to have. They are in fact the virtues that define being a mature person.