The Right Time to Read

(Note: If you're a reader of my other blog, this post may look familiar to you. It's a topic I want to touch in this space as well, though, so I've brought it over and spiffed it up a bit for you.)

Right about a year ago, I read The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera. This was actually the second time I’ve read it; I first read it about six years ago. (And, as I explained in my last post, it's actually pretty rare for me to re-read a book.)

What's weird about this, though, is that I really didn't like Unbearable the first time I read it.

The writing is incredible. Stylistically, Kundera is a first-class writer, all the way. But I wasn’t wild about the plot - or the characters - at all. 

And yet I read it again.

There was actually a very specific reason I pulled it out of the box it was buried in to give it another shot. That reason doesn’t really matter right now; I’d like to get at a different point for now.

This time around, I liked it quite a bit more than the first time. I’m still not too thrilled with some of the plot points and character quirks, but I found them much more forgivable this time. Originally, I’d have given it a 2/5. Now, it’s probably more of a 3.5/5 or so. It’s still not perfect, but there are a lot of things to admire about it.

This is actually the second time I’ve done this, though - re-read a book that I didn’t like the first time around.

I also did this with Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis. I first read it many years ago (probably about 11-12 years ago or so). It wasn’t bad, I guess…but it was terribly boring. Or so I thought.

When I had occasion to read it again (like Unbearable, there was a very specific reason I revisited Faces), I realized that Till We Have Faces is actually INCREDIBLE. In fact, it now sits in my top 10 favorite books.

Why would I dislike a book so much the first time around, and yet grow so fond of it the next time?

Considering these two little tidbits, I can imagine this means that perhaps there is a “right” time to read a book, so to speak. I wonder if, when I first approached Unbearable or Faces, I had simply come to them at the wrong time (too early, in these cases).

If this is true, I can’t help but wonder: What makes it the “right” time or the “wrong” time to read a book?

Obviously the books themselves don’t change. It can only be something in me that has changed in between readings. But what was the thing that changed?

• Am I more mature now than I was then? (hopefully, yes)
• Am I wiser? (again, I hope so)
• Do I pay more attention to the words? (meh – it’s hard to say)
• Am I looking for different things in books now than what I was looking for then?

…actually, there might be something to that last question.

The first time I read each book, it was just a book I had recently picked up that I thought sounded interesting. There was really nothing more to it than that. And I didn’t like them.

When I returned to each of the books some years later, I had a very specific reason to read them. And now I like them.

I wonder, then, if our motives for reading a certain book actually affect how we feel about the book as a whole.

This sounds like a reasonable assumption. In fact, I see no reason not to assume this is the case.

That said, though, here are the next questions:

• What other books could get the same treatment as Unbearable and Faces?
• How many books have I read (just once) and liked, that maybe I would not like now?
• How many books have I read (just once) for a reason and liked, which I may not have liked in a different circumstance?

And, perhaps most importantly of all:

• What specific reasons for reading a particular book would make me like that book more? What specific reasons for reading a particular book would make me like that book less?

There’s really no way to know the answer to these questions, of course. But they’re fun to think about.

Friends, this is a topic in which I have more questions than answers. 
So what are your thoughts on this? 
Have you ever experienced something similar?