Paired Reading
And just like that I decided it was a good idea for my husband and I to read the same book AT THE SAME TIME. No more drifting off to separate lands - we will be in a state of symbiotic reading bliss. It feels strangely old fashioned. I have visions of my mother and father sitting up in bed with their library books: Dennis Wheatley for him Ngaio Marsh for her. Never the twain shall meet. Is paired reading the new sex? But no Big Print library books for us – we are Kindlers. It will be so much easier to mark our progress - his stagnant 20% meets my rampant 45% . Not competitive at all.
Initially I thought this would get us through the heavy hitters. Me not him. He is much braver about taking on the beasts than me. No qualms about reading War and Peace last summer. He’s very dogged - Focus and Finish will be written on his heart – Flibbertigibbet on mine. Plus he’s good on Russia.* I panic when I have to flick back to a family tree too often (Wolf Hall - I know, you’ve been so patient) and a book that needs its own bookmark with two sets of surnames to keep track feels like I’ll need oxygen. But hey - I’m good - I’ve read Anna Karenina, Ulysses, Middlemarch even the driest of the dry: Tristram Shandy - but that was at college when my reading brain was, well bigger. Now the thought of living with such a grown-up book for so long makes me feel panicky - like a great weight that I will be schlepping around whilst the seasons change. So clearly handheld reading woud be great for Proust. They say once you’re in it takes you over. Ten pages a day – we’ll be done by Christmas. Mmmh maybe next time. No we’re not going to go with Proust or Dostoyevsky or Ben Okri’s A Famished Road (it’s on everyone’s bookshelf but as far as I’m aware only my friend Paul has actually read it. ) We’re going for the more manageable: A Town like Alice. Prompted by new must-tell-everyone podcast: ( I worry my eulogizing is rather annoying) What Should I Read Next. Their love for this book, which has long slipped through my fingers, zipped it up to my next must read – overtaking The Twyford Code - which I thought I could fit in before the hand-holding started. But no the reading stars have aligned and we have both just finished our current reads – me The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (good book club choice because honestly how many times do we need a chandelier described?) and he Hornblower - yes we are archetypes personified if that is not tautological. And so just like that we re about to set sail on our first joint read.
But wait - what next ? Matching Pac-a-Macs? Argentine tango in the village hall? Ramblers subscription? Paired Reading is definitely not the new sex.
But it will be lovely - it will be very All Creatures Great and Small - I’m sure James and Helen would do it -my new benchmark of aspirational loveliness.
But will it be lovely? Will we swap our reading thoughts over supper? Will we discuss plot turns, characterisation, foreshadowing whilst chopping onions? Could paired reading be the ultimate couple’s therapy? Could it fuel proper discussion that’s not about netball pickups and we’ve run out of coffee? Or will it be hell?
If you read Wuthering Heights will it ignite your passion or expose your shortcomings? He’s not Heathcliff – you knew that but do you need reminding? And what if he hates it? Could I stay with someone who doesn’t love Wuthering Heights as much as me? What Pandora’s Box am I opening up here? Like husbands, choose your books wisely.
Will this lead to discontent and a whole new appraisal of him as a worthy partner? I mean he’s already not as mad about Shakespeare as me ‘overated’ (I know, I know - he is an iconoclast - which can be good) and that is enough of a literary transgression for one marriage.
No, some books are sacred and need to remain so. He can read them, he can not chime with them - but he cannot tell me. Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. The panoply remains closed. For the same reason I am holding off letting the children watch some of my favourite films. I want them to see them yes - but I also want them to love them.
Maybe we could we get the children on board too? We will sit hugger mugger about the woodburner and swap our thoughts and musings. I’ll leave that one with you.
So where angels fear to tread – this could be a terrible idea – maybe we should stick to our nooks – him on the wide ocean seas me in my fairytale papery circus world. Maybe that’s why we’re married?
I’ll let you know.
Sometime later - on a distant shore.
Dear reader I married him. And this is why. I realised ( I already knew) we are different beasts of course - I galloped ahead – he got cross with me – aren’t we meant to be reading this together? Yes but you’re sooo slow – he’s still in London – I’m in the Australian outback – I can’t wait for you – I have a plane to catch while you’re still in the solicitor’s office. You’re so competitive – it’s not a race. No but it is.
So we have both retreated back to our literary lands – me to Catcher in the Rye ( I know, where was I?) and he to Moby Dick - which he will doggedly chomp away at whilst the blossoms fall from the trees.
Remembrance of Things Past one day. I promise.
*This piece was penned before February 24th 2022 when the word Russia had a whole new meaning.