I ruin almost every book I touch. I don’t say that as a pessimistic admission, so much as a statement of style. I ruin books in the traditional sense, I destroy their resale value. I am always writing notes on what I read.
Even in fiction sometimes I’ll be scribbling in the columns and writing little memos. I am aware that I am actively destroying the novels, and possibly incriminating people by giving them an inside view of my mind, but it’s something I simply can’t resist doing so.
By my own observation, I hate passive engagement with anything. To me, passively taking in knowledge, letting others assertions go unchecked is something I seem to resist. I can respect a lecture every now and then, but I often seek to disagree with whatever I read, and many of my notes are my thoughts going forward. I seek to be argumentative with writers, not letting their narratives simply be plugged into what I think without some amount of checks to their literature and messages.
I love it, too. I don’t want to sit idly by and be told the truths of nonfiction, or the internal messages of certain novels, but respectively to critically analyze the messages and see how they resonate with my own psyche.
Reading and being lectured too can simply be too passive for true learning to take place. Perhaps I like to discover why I am wrong for myself, or perhaps I am too much of a hothead, but either way actively creating, disputing and analyzing reality in a critical fashion has always struck me as more passionate and lively.
Until next time,