How To Read Posts

We usually don’t pay much attention to pauses in language – it’s easy to assume they’re just meaningless gaps between the meaningful words. But pauses are everywhere in spoken language – and, as Andrew Leong has been studying, in written language too. Pauses are not just an absence of meaning, but can drastically shift the meaning of the words around them. From an American short story, to a Japanese coming-of-age novel to a Japanese-American play, Andrew argues that pauses are a device for hinting at things left unsaid.

Atmospheres are both insubstantial and yet very palpable – for example, think about tension that feels so thick you could cut it with a knife. Whether you’re decorating a room or throwing a party, creating the right atmosphere can mean the difference between success and failure. But Dora Zhang argues that no one person is ever in full control of an atmosphere, it’s always something collective, not just a projection of one person’s mood. When it comes to literature, too, atmospheres emerge collectively from the readers, the characters, and the language of the text.

Spectacular dance sequences are one of the most recognizable elements of Indian cinema, and female dancers are the biggest stars. Although some critics view dance sequences as just interruptions that don’t push the story forward, Usha Iyer argues that distracting from the story is actually a good thing. Whereas the stories are typically marriage plots in which women give up their independence, focusing on women’s dancing allows us to recognise the power and skill not only of the characters but also of the dancer-actresses who have shaped these films behind the scenes.

It’s difficult to maintain attention when surrounded by distractions. Even if we’re just trying to focus on our own thoughts, distracting words have a way of popping into our head uninvited. David Marno has been studying early Christian thinkers, for whom prayer meant paying attention to God, leading them to worry that distracting thoughts were caused by evil demons. But avoiding these demons of distraction wasn’t the goal for everyone: the poet and preacher John Donne believed that true attention could only emerge out of distractedness, and so wrote poetry that moves readers from distraction to spiritual attention.

For many people, binge-watching is a guilty pleasure. In the Golden Age of Television, we might feel guilty because great tv shows deserve to be watched slowly and thoughtfully, not rushed through. If we’re just watching for what happens next in the story, we’ll probably miss out on subtler kinds of artistry. But Michaela Bronstein wants to defend bingeing, and points out that people had similar worries a hundred years ago about the novel: concerns about binge-reading then and binge-watching today reflect a shift from viewing each medium as just entertainment to viewing it as high art.

It’s hard to find time for undistracted reading, and it’s easy to blame modern developments like digital technology. But Christina Lupton says that people have been feeling this way for more than 200 years. For centuries, people have been struggling to balance a desire for undistracted reading with their professional and family duties. By studying past struggles to make time for reading, we can pick up strategies to apply in our own lives – and understand why finding time for reading is not just a personal but a political issue.

There’s a negative stereotype of teenage readers as naively absorbed in their favourite books – think of young readers obsessed with Harry Potter. But Jill Richards believes that the best books and films aimed at teenagers actually create space to think for yourself. These works invite us to relate to them as fans, but in contrast to the stereotype of fans loving everything about their favourite fictional universe, Jill argues that fandom is about mixed feelings – loving some aspects of a work and rejecting others – and thus making it your own.

Life experiences can transform us in many ways, and Laurie Paul wants us to appreciate how experiencing works of art can be powerfully transformative too. Works of fiction can change how we understand our own lives going forwards, or experiences we’ve already had. But art doesn’t always transform us for the better – when we truly open ourselves up to transformation, we can’t know in advance, or ultimately control, what the results will be.

We tend to have a visceral response to someone we think is dirty. But Stephanie Newell argues that judging other people as dirty is more in our minds than it is about medical reality. Through examples ranging from the travel diaries of colonial British traders in West Africa to the surprising ways Nigerian popular culture makes comedy out of disease, Stephanie shows how judging people to be dirty always involves a failure to understand them – but sometimes can also spark empathy.

After we finish reading a book, our memories of it quickly fade and can even get distorted. Andrew Elfenbein has studied how the things we read get transformed in memory. What we remember may diverge from what’s in the book, but that doesn’t mean we’re sloppy readers – we’re actually using highly sophisticated skills without even noticing. By understanding this process we can better appreciate how books live on in our minds long after we’ve read them.