The last time I read a book was three months ago. Well, that is a lie. I have not read a book that has not been for school in the past three months. I am an English Major. I have most likely read more books than the average person. My point is that I have not read anything voluntarily in three months, and I hate it. The ‘reading slump’ that we know all too well from discourse on Tik Tok’s ‘Book Tok’ has caught up to me, and I have fallen deep into its hole; I am no longer seeing the jars of jam or the floating furniture aligning the walls, and there is most definitely no White Rabbit waiting for me once I hit the ground. I am not experiencing dramatic romances or life-altering adventures down a rabbit hole. Instead, I am enclosed in a lecture hall filled with the sounds of Milton and Marvell. I feel at a loss without my books. Reading is a comfort for me; it works my imagination and makes me think. Most importantly, it is why I chose to major in English.
Before taking a degree in English literature, I was warned by various family, friends, and people online that I would lose my love for books. To read academically, one must apply all their tools. Your brain is always switched on. There is always the pressure to find a good discussion point for your next seminar. The eventual essay or exam looms over you as you turn each page.
I do love my degree. I love that it has changed the way I read; I notice and appreciate more than I had before. I do not need to detail the benefits of an English degree; after all, it is a dying major, and those planning to major in English are already well enough aware of its status. We take English because we love it despite the lack of direct post-graduation opportunities.
My only ‘beef’ with English right now is that it is whittling away at my favourite hobby. I find myself living for the school breaks, where I can open a new book, flick through the pages whilst letting the fresh chemical smell of the paper waft up my nose. When I can escape into the world through the eyes of someone new. Someone I have chosen, someone not from a long list of canonical writers.
I thought the perfect escape was in reach with spring break approaching. I was so excited to read a book on the plane, on the beach, or wherever I could steal five minutes between drinking cocktails and laughing with friends. I was almost giddy at the prospect. That was until my professor strongly suggested ‘spending spring break wisely reading the books for the following week on the syllabus’. My heart sank. My dreams of a spring break free from the confines of stuffy prose were no more.
All things considered, I would choose to study English in a thousand lifetimes. Any degree will limit your reading time, so you should not be deterred from majoring in English.
While I wait till the end of this semester to rekindle my reading spark, I will make a grand ‘tbr’ (to be read). All recommendations are welcome.
See you in Wonderland.