Speed Dating Literature
Do we read too fast for university?
Slumped over my Penguin Classics edition of Wuthering Heights on the third floor of the main library, I stifle my unwelcome coughs from lingering freshers' flu and struggle to keep my eyes open. I’ve officially hit my fourth hour in the library, and since it’s Sunday and my lecturer tomorrow will be operating under the assumption that I have completed the text, stopping is not an option. For Catherine and Heathcliff, their tumultuous family grievances lasted them roughly thirty years. For the sleep-deprived first years of the English department, they had to wrap up by the following Monday.
Sitting at a round table of eight fellow students, the likes of whom you’ve also known for a week, you realise just how slight that timing is to gain any substantial knowledge about a person. I know the girl sitting across from me is from California and that she’s studying a joint degree in psychology, and I know that Heathcliff is a scorned man on a journey for revenge against all those who have wronged him and his beloved Catherine, yet I’ve known the two for the same amount of time. It hardly seems fair to give complicated characters, extensive plots, and years of an author's efforts no more than two rushed hours an evening wielding a bright orange highlighter that lazily scribbles over vague details we assume to be important. Yet it is the structure that we’ve been told we must follow in order to keep up with the pace of the curriculum.
While, despite first impressions, the task is physically possible, it is hard to determine whether it is as mentally rewarding as slowly inching through a 400-page novel across the span of a summer, a task which surely has its own faults. I find myself an easy ally when having only just met a person; I extend my sympathies liberally to all characters who are unfortunate enough to stop by the Heights. Upon discussions with my more cultured friends who already read the book before arriving at university, I find that their impressions are varied. One, who read the text as a high school literature class assignment, found that she enjoyed the book much more the second time. Being slumped through the text with forced expectations of what to search for and predetermined twenty-page intervals hindered the experience of authentically getting to discover her own takeaways. Speeding through, she found herself able to pick up quickly on the themes that existed beyond the often preached-upon romance.
As I write this piece, I am taunted by my imposing copy of Great Expectations, the foe I must befriend to survive my next tutorial. Pip stares at me through the pages and asserts that I will never be able to make it to page 485 if I continue lingering at chapter two, distracting myself with insignificant tasks like eating and sleeping. Yet, as my second week of classes comes to a conclusion, I’ve learned not to fear the challenge of hundred-page nights and lingering questions. When only given a week to know a person, you can find out more than you expect. Just maybe, a week is all you need to fall in love with something — if that something is a book, of course. Put aside your preconceived notions and give speed dating literature a chance; your written soulmate could be just a week away.
Image from Artvee
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