Just back from the UK, I’m rueful about just one thing–I didn’t have time to stop in at The School of Life, while in London. The name of the place makes me want to buy a boat and call it “The Ship of State,” or invent a perfume and call it “Joie de Vivre” (I bet somebody’s beat me to it). I do love the idea of a brick and mortar “school of life.”
There all sorts of goodies at the website, but my favorite is the offer of “bibliotherapy.” For a small fee (or large, I’m not sure), you can get just the right book prescription. Let’s say you’ve just been in the hospital and want something to read during your convalescence. What should it be? I’m not a professional bibliotherapist, but I’d say not a book about child soldiers in Africa, but maybe some Jane Austen?
Here’s the hitch. I’ve been reading lately about how people have stopped reading books. So says the cover story in a recent issue of Atlantic, and a huge article in the New York Times. So just possibly the good people at the School of Life ought to offer meta-biblotherapy, or advanced bibliotherapy. This would mean some treatment plan to get us away our computers, and back to books.
What would that be? And is it really better for you to read books than cruise the internet or chat at blogs? And are people really reading books less to begin with? So many questions…I’ll leave it there.
Ah, well, now, if we’re talking about bibliotherapy, is there a cure for reading? I can’t stop! Or is meta-bibliotherapy about that too?
And then there’s the problem of reading too many books at the same time. I think meta-bibliotherapy could actually cover a lot of territory!
I’m reading fewer books. One factor is the time I spend in internet, but the most important one is that my eyes tire more easily, even with glasses, than they used to. The print in my edition of Nietzsche’s Beyond Good and Evil looks so so small. It gets smaller every year. Welcome back, Jean.
Welcome back Jean. I’m sorry you were subjected to the poor summer we’re having…!
The term ‘bibliotherapy’ is actually an National Health Service concept that de Botton et al nicked! I think it all started in Cardiff actually - a psychologist called Neil Frude got it going I think. I’ve written many a book prescription when I worked up in Scotland.
It was used to try and stop doctors prescribing so many antidepressants to people who didn’t need them. The thinking was that doctors feel obliged to give people something when they ask for help - we aimed to replace pill prescriptions with book prescriptions!
We stocked the libraries full of carefully screened books and thousands ended up being borrowed in the end, I think.
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There’s this article, which you might find of interest:
http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200807/google
The thought is that google (and the internet generally) is making us stupid (unable to focus on much for very long). There’s at least one interesting thought in here, having to do with the way we adapt to certain media. The rot really set in when Nietzsche learned to type, apparently.
Leme tell ya what book NOT to bring to the hospital. The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down. Nothing against the book, but therapy it is not. I will take Jean’s suggestion and sink into a big easy chair with Jane Austen.
Music therapy, art therapy, why not book therapy? But there’s really no need to get snotty about it. There’s very therapeutic stuff on (gasp) tv, also.
Not to suggest that books are over-rated, but there is something to be said for living one’s own life instead of relying on even well-written vicarious experiences or even vicarious thoughts. The stereotype of the four-eyed, hair parted in the middle, wimpy, bookworm, has only a teeny tiny base. Still, not so bad to get one’s head out of that book and go out to play.
But we’re talking therapy. A book thoughtfully chosen for the invalid is a wise choice. I wish I could post a photo here that I took of one of the therapy dogs at the hospital, in his sunglasses and little red hat and big brown eyes. Instant magic cheer. Nothing like it. Great idea. Better than Hound of the Baskervilles or Lassie.
Ah, yes, I forgot the ‘too many books at a time syndrome’. Perhaps we could call that bibliopsychosis, or biblioneurosis, or something, so long as those terms are not already claimed for other bibliodysfunctions.
I should have defined my terms. ‘Biblioneurosis’ would be the dysfunction of reading too many books at one time due to the fear that there is not world enough and time. ‘Bibliopsychosis’ includes a subset of those suffering from biblioneurosis, and who believe, wrongly, that they are reading one book, when they are actually reading another.
I think I should open up a bibliotherapy clinic.
Eric, I have a friend who reads books backwards. Surely this is some form of biblio-dysfunction.
Paul–I’m amazed! I thought the word was just supposed to be cute…which it is. I’d love to have an example of biblio-prescription you might write. I’m curious what’s in that NHS library.
Re: weather. We who live in Texas actually deliberately go to cold, rainy places for summer vacations. England and Scotland did not disappoint.
rtk–welcome home from hospital. One form of therapy of course does not preclude another. Best case–read Jane Austen with big fluffy dog at your feet, or possibly by the side of fish pond, or both.
I hate to sound like a Luddite, but I think the worries about the internet vs. reading have some foundation. The joy of the internet is that everybody gets to say something, without the interference of nasty, elitist gatekeepers. The joy of reading is more self-less. You put your own self on hold and let another world take over. This is a great pleasure (imho), but a bit less obvious. Why try to live in the world of some novel, when you can tinker with your facebook profile, or whatnot?
I think I do read less as a result of blogging at TP, which does Worry me, with a capital ‘W’.
Reading, classical music, old masters art - none have a wide audience now. I can think of three possible reasons.
1. Highbrow is a dead concept. Maybe that’s okay, sign of democratization.
2. Blame the artists. The current practitioners may not be speaking to the senses of today. Their expressions don’t resonate.
3. Maybe it’s life in general these days that requires new mirrors and the internet speaks a little bit closer to states of mind than the old guys.
Beside the point: time spent playing with Facebook doesn’t have to come from heavier interests. It could be taken from not having to pump the well for your water or walk to the store with your wagon.
Yes but one can (of course) do both, and there is a great deal to be said for living one’s own life which has been broadened and enriched by ‘vicarious’ thoughts. In fact the whole idea of vicarious is interesting, because without vicarious thoughts and experiences, what do we have at all? Just our own selves, which would surely be arid and narrow and dull enough if they were sealed off from all other selves.
It’s fine to put down the book and go out and play and it’s also fine to come inside and stick one’s head in a book. We need both, and the two are not opposed. We can’t do both simultaneously, but that doesn’t make them opposed overall.
OB: they sure aren’t opposed to me and I can’t imagine life without both, but that’s what I hear on all sides. Either I HATE to read or I HATE the internet and tv and I HATE whatever. All that exclusivity. I don’t get it. I am now worried about how Emma will manage with her governess gone, will get back to the olympics in time to watch the pentathlon, love my iPhone and its new app Shazam, Bach and rap.
Bottom line: I agree totally; one can do both, even do it all.
Well, yes, a little bit of both…but the reason why it makes sense to express some misgivings about the internet is that it seems to be taking over. The Atlantic article I linked to (and James did as well :-)) is written by a reporter who says he’s so internet-focused he’s stopped reading books.
Here’s the Nation’s excellent Katha Pollitt on the subject of the internet–
I relate! know it’s ponderous and Luddite and all, but I think time on the web does have an effect, making it harder to enjoy quieter, less interactive pastimes like reading a book from cover to cover. This seems particularly like a problem for younger folk who never got into the habit of book-reading in the first place.
Harry Potter has made a radical change in younger folk’s reading enjoyment. Perhaps the appeal can be analyzed. I don’t understand it, having tried hard and not succeeded to finish a couple of them. After all the clever set-up I wanted something to happen and it didn’t.
The appeal of the internet is a mystery to me. When I’m finished doing what I sat down to do, I’m very eager to get away from it. Is the attractiveness similar to newspapers and magazines which require less commitment?
But the subject is bibliotherapy and I’m finding that yes indeedy Jane Austen should do nicely for both men and women who are tied up in extended periods of invalidism. For short hospital stays I recommend Persepolis, Maus, Palestine, and Crumb’s bio of Kafka - all graphic novels.
rtk says: “Reading, classical music, old masters art - none have a wide audience now. ”
Let me respond to your declinist litany with some historical facts.
Except for the Elizabethan-Jacobean period in England, only a very tiny minority of Europeans were literate before the introduction of mass public schooling in the late-19th century. Until the creation of public symphony orchestras in the mid-19th century, so-called classical music was composed for and performed to only the richest elite, never more than 5-10% of the population. Until the creation of the first public art galleries, again in the mid-19th century, all old-master art was painted for and seen only by that same, very tiny, elite.
Without question, the current audiences in western countries for reading, for classical music and for old masters art, as percentages of the total population, are 10 or more times larger than these audience percentages were when the books, the music and the art were first created. In absolute numbers, of course, today’s audiences are 100 + times larger than they were then.
So, the string quartet concert on campus really was full? Not just gray heads? The exhibit of the Hudson school at the museum drew an enthusiastic crowd? And aside from the arts, those multi-course dinners and carefully coordinated wines have not been replaced by come as you are pot-luck shambles? All that high brow stuff I thought melted in the democratization of internet expression hasn’t really gone?
I’m not comparing centuries and counting the opera crowds of the 19th century with today’s; I’m just looking back one generation.
Jean, I’m sorry, I’m slow on the uptake … you mean bibliopalindromitis, surely!
In my only stay, as an adult, in hospital, I read about ten of Shakespeare’s plays. I found them stimulating and restful at the same time. Tragedy seems very at home in the hospital, and so do some of the more bloody histories (is there any other kind?).
I’ve always been suspicious of the “things aren’t what they used to be” discourse in any form: people no longer care, people no longer read, etc. Actually, much of the time I spend in internet is spent reading the news, which I used to read in a newspaper. I read fewer books because, besides having poorer eyesight, I’m more selective about what I read and I read more slowly, with more care. There’s a Woody Allen joke: I took a speed-reading course. I read all of War and Peace in 30 minutes. It’s about Russia.
In addition, there is absolutely no way that I can recover that sense of wonder that I felt when at age 16, 17 or 18, I first read authors that before that were only names in my mental map: Nietzsche, Dostoyevsky, Sartre, Plato, Marx, etc. But that’s not just a problem of reading: neither will I ever recover the sense of wonder I felt when I first heard Miles Davis play the trumpet or when I first listened to a Mozart opera. There are only a limited number of cultural giants in the history of mankind, and while I’ve not read them all, I’ve read enough of them and am familiar enough with them that the first wonder will never return. So I re-read, more slowly, with less enthusiasm and less sense of discovery, but with more attention to detail. Finally, I once believed that there was something called Wisdom, which could be found in certain authors and I went through author after author in search of wisdom. I no longer believe in Wisdom.
“I’m curious what’s in that NHS library.”
Hi Jean, mostly CBT self-help stuff if I’m honest - which is useful when or if you need it. Overcoming Anxiety, Overcoming Trauma - that kind of stuff. Good one on depression is:
http://www.constablerobinson.com/?section=books&book=overcoming_depression_9781841191256_paperback
Tends to be based on research rather than most of the sefl-help quackery that line the shelves of most bookstores - but not necessarily stirring literature.
That’s why I liked the School of Life version of bibliotherapy. Authors such as Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, D. H. Lawrence etc all speak directly to the troubled soul about love, madness, angst and so on. And if at the end of the day a person can’t solve these problems, at least they know they’re in good company!
The main problem with using book prescriptions widely is that the average reading age of the UK population is 9 years old. Most basic stuff has a reading age about 16 or so. Even if you write something at reading age 9 (very difficult to do) still only half the population will get it. And to be honest, the people who are in greatest difficulty are from deprived areas where the reading age is much lower.
I expect none of that will be a problem for angst-ridden but educated clientele of the School of Life ;-)
I like the idea of reading Shakespeare in the hospital…all those graphic novels with painful subjects (rtk) would be too much for me. Truth is, I can’t read when in hospital (I have discovered). I am too busy complaining about the food and stuff like that…
Paul, Aha, well that makes sense, though I’m slightly disappointed you’re not writing prescriptions for people to read Tolstoy…or, what? I’m curious what the bibliotherapists at the School of Life would suggest for various forms of misery.
Amos–But there are new authors to be met for the first time. My current favorite is someone you probably haven’t read–the Icelandic author Halldor Laxness. “Independent People” is a fantastic book. It’s possibly even good bibliotherapy for some ill or another (maybe the ill of being too proud and isolated).
OK, I had a closer look at the S of L site, and now I see “full bibliotherapy” is 50 pounds. This includes a full discussion of your reading habits, prescriptions, and 5 months of follow-up.
They also do “spot” work…like the following, which addresses our question about what to read in the hospital. Pretty highbrow, if you ask me. No Superman comic books or Mad magazines allowed. The books sound good though!
There, you see, Shakespeare’s tragedies are just the ticket! I’m getting in to this bibliotherapy thing! I don’t know about the ‘full and instant recovery’ thing. That’s a bit of a stretch! Better not to make promises when you’re doing the therapy thing anyway. It’s a bit of a gamble. The Mystic Masseur is okay, but A House for Mr. Biswas is perhaps the greatest comic novel in the English language. Great reading for hospitals too.
By the way, The Mystic Masseur is so close to contemporary Trinidadian politics that it is a bit scary.
Jean: From time to time, that sense of wonder reappears in discovering a new author or even in rereading: I recently reread Dostoyevsky’s The Idiot, which I hadn’t understood at all when I was young and now find it to be his greatest work. Still, it’s different to see a great city, New York or Paris, for the first time and to discover a small and charming street in one of them after visiting them for years.
Not only The Mystic Masseur, but Haunts of the Black Masseur is very worth a read, especially in the hospital unless you got there by almost drowning. Subtitled the Swimmer as Hero, it is a quite unknown little book about Byron, Weissmuller, and others including fictional swimmers like Mann’s Tonio Kroger’s infatuation, plus a few who came to grief or joy in a wet environment. Sometimes deep, sometimes shallow.
Nice thread, J.
Could someone please edit the Wikipedia entry on bibliotherapy (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bibliotherapy)? One of the ghastly examples: ”However bibliotherapy may be implications beyond children.” As a bibliophile this is of concern to me, but I am not expert enough to tackle it myself.