Why has reading felt so difficult?
Reading is so simplistic. Immersing yourself into new worlds, dreaming about characters to prolong their stories, simply allowing your imagination to wander. It is an escape from reality, an exploration of language and an expansion of knowledge.
I’ve always told myself I’m a reader but finding my reading rhythm has often been difficult. I have been guilty of leaving books on my beside table to collect dust and develop an ornamental quality.
Recently I have settled into my reading groove. However, knowing how easy it is to lapse, I’ve reflected on my past struggles and come to two conclusions.
Book Clubs
As I read a book I know if I am enjoying it, if I like the characters, the journeys they are on or the underlying themes. I know if the writing was engaging & complex, engaging & simple or completely unengaging. Attending the first book club “session” of my life, I thought this deduction of the book would be sufficient. I expected a light discussion followed by a social chat with a glass of wine. And maybe that is the case for some, but not the book club I tried. For me, the detailed analysis (especially on a book I didn’t choose to read) was beyond my comprehension.
I never went back to that club, nor did I try a new one. I felt like an imposter. I questioned reading as a true hobby if I wasn’t as deeply moved or intellectually challenged by a book as these people. It seriously harmed my reading groove. However, I now know this is not the case; appreciation of literature takes many forms, and my enjoyment just didn’t mirror the responses of the others.
The one aspect that I did appreciate about the book club was discovering new books that would otherwise have been left unturned. Yes, I only went to one meeting, but I did stay in the group chat for a few months after my debut appearance and managed to leach from the monthly recommendations. There are numerous books I’ve enjoyed from lurking in this chat that I would never have come across otherwise – I understand the benefits of being part of a club.
So, would I go back to a book club? Yes, I would. But I would make sure to: a) be more confident to give my simple response to how I found the book and b) leave others to go into the detail that they want to and believe that that does not belittle my enjoyment of reading.
Genres
Growing up I was only exposed to crime novels. I would sit with my mum as she would give me daily updates on the ‘adult’ books she was reading. And gradually, I would start reading her books. I’ve always loved the fast pace, compelling plot with unexpected twists and turns. As I grew older, I continued to love crime fiction (and still do to this day) but along the way I saw it as a childish genre to enjoy. As an alternative, I turned to popular science non-fiction as I was going into university. The genre appeared like the smart, trendy books to be reading as a science student. But after four years of occupying this mindset, I barely finished a single book. And of what I did read, I didn’t retain a word of it.
After this lull I allowed myself to enjoy the comfort of a crime novel, learning that forcing ‘enjoyment’ often results in defeat. I rediscovered the fun, relaxing nature of reading and began to explore a wider range of fiction genres, which led me to discover Japanese fiction, and I have been captivated by it. It is a genre that has been appearing more and more on the bookstore shelves. In the 2024 top 40 translated fiction titles, 43% were Japanese.
My first Japanese novel was Butter by Asako Yuzuki. The book welcomed me into the love of reading with open arms. I have since fallen into a Japanese literature hole. The storytelling in this literature is slow and comforting, with subtle yet sweeping themes. The stories are deep, moving and insightful. They are authentic. They don’t feel like an embellishment of real life, which, somehow, feels like a true escape from reality.
