The other week I came across one of those posts about what you should be reading. I’m sure you’ve seen them, too: You shouldn’t read smut. You should read the classics. You shouldn’t read books for young readers if you’re a grownup. You should read books for adults even if you’re a kid. You shouldn’t read escapist books. You should read this one book, for reasons, instead of something you actually want to read. There used to be more about how you shouldn’t read science fiction and fantasy, but the tide has changed somewhat on that front.
I would like to recommend that we mostly do away with the “shoulds” in our reading lives. If you have already succeeded at this, I am genuinely happy for you, and I hope you enjoy your reading freedom! But I’m not there, and I don’t think I’m alone.
I get in should-fits all the time. I should read more of this author or that. I should read more history. I should read more literary fiction/nonfiction about the state of the world/books about music/local authors. I should reread all the SFF books I loved as a younger reader and see if they hold up. I should read more books in translation.
And this, see, this is where I think “should” gets tricky. I absolutely should read more books in translation—because I want to. Should sometimes means “I want to,” not “I feel obliged to” or “It seems like I ought to want to.” But—and this is not just semantics, I don’t think—it feels different. “Should” is bossy. It thinks it knows best. It is “used in auxiliary function to express obligation, propriety, or expediency,” according to good old Merriam-Webster.
“Should” makes me grumpy. It makes me look at books I definitely otherwise want to read and suddenly feel resistant. It makes me think I don’t want to read things. I get this cranky kneejerk response to being told I should read things, even though, like every other enthusiastic book recommender on the planet, I have absolutely gushed, “Holy CATS you should TOTALLY read this book!” more than once in my life. More than many times.
“Should” and “want to” are related but not the same, and I think there’s value in making that differentiation—in taking the should and the shouldn’t out of how we think about what we read. A post made the rounds recently in which children’s books were treated as either “nutritious” or, well, junk food. Kids had to read their vegetables to get dessert.
Kids shouldn’t be taught to treat reading like a chore, and we shouldn’t treat it like that, either. (Sometimes a “should” is unavoidable.)
And most of us, here, reading about books, don’t do that. But in times when reading becomes hard, or it’s difficult to focus, or the world feels like one massive existential crisis after another—in times like these, I mean—the shoulds creep up, at least for me. I should be reading more! I should be reading better books! I am making terrible choices with my limited time on earth! I shouldn’t have read 100 pages of that book I ultimately did not finish! I should read that book that’s been on my shelf for 20 years unread!
I think probably we should all be reading whatever the hell we want.
For me, right now, reading feels like 2020 all over again: Difficult, slow, and particular. I gave myself permission to read anything at all, this year, provided I already have the book. (I should buy fewer books—see, there go the shoulds again.) (I should also buy all the books I love and support all those authors!) (I should support local bookstores!) (You see how this goes.)
It all started out so well. I chose at random, without any sense of obligation, and they were all winners: Opacities! The first Mossa and Pleiti book! Doppelganger! Human Acts! A book about the form of essays! And then it went downhill. A book I had absolutely wanted to read when I got it, but then hated when I started to read it—and yet I finished it, desperate to understand what it was that had drawn me to the book in the first place. A recent middle-grade blockbuster that was so close to great except for the glaringly manipulative death in the middle. A book I was genuinely enjoying until William Burroughs appeared as a character.
None of these were bad books; they just weren’t the books for me. And so the shoulds crept up, looked over my shoulder, and whispered, “You should be reading something else.” And I groaned, and tried not to listen. I finally picked up Suki Kim’s Without You, There Is No Us, about teaching in North Korea, and was rapt for days. I’m not sure I picked the next right book after that. But I’m reading.
Take out the shoulds. Take out the ought-to and need-to (unless you have school or deadlines, in which case, hop to it!). Take out the obligations and the sense of missing out—but embrace the fact that you’re never going to be able to read all the books. If your taste is weird right now, accept it. I seem only to want to read narrative nonfiction about people in unusual and difficult situations. I can’t imagine why that is.
Read the weird books. Read the old books. Read the books you’ve always meant to read and thought you’ll get around to someday. Get offline sometimes. Do what needs doing, and then take a break, and read whatever the hell you want. And don’t let anyone tell you that you should be reading something else.
I agree. My reading has become more relaxed and enjoyable as I’ve gotten away from ‘shoulds’.
The one that was hardest for me to break was the ‘ you should finish what you start’. At my advanced age I don’t have the time to continue reading a book that I don’t enjoy. But it should (sorry) apply to all ages. You don’t have to finish a book, or a series, or an author it you don’t want to.
“Should” is totally bossy – and judgemental. I think that’s part of why so many people (including me) struggle with it; it’s hard not to let other peoples’ “should” opinions get to you, particularly if they’re negative.
So I think periodic reminders like this are very necessary. Thank you, Molly.
I fully agree. But what you say about books goes for movies and TV as well. People tell me all the time to watch this or that show or movie but I never listen.
At the moment I’m reading poetry, listening to an audiobook of a fantasy novel, and also enjoying short stories and a novella by Japanese authors, and it really works for me.
As it so happens, I’ve been reading a whole gang of lesbian romances. No-one dies horribly, no one important turns out to be a manipulative psychopath (OK, maybe the occasional mother), and people almost always find their way through difficulties. I can think of a number of “shoulds” that this violates, but I’m enjoying myself.
In between those, I’m rereading all of T. Kingfisher.
I want to agree, but at the moment I can’t entirely take out the shoulds from my own reading life…
Ex1: I have regular sessions with a tutor in my target language and that means, on that day and sometimes a little before, reading/listening to books in that language and NOT in English! Very dangerous. Also, as soon as you start reading in a foreign language you aren’t fluent in, I think there is going to be a sense of obligation, and sometimes it’s going to feel like work.
Ex2: I’m the sort of reader who, left to herself, could read romance until very late at night (or very early in the morning) and I’ve spent years with a completely wrecked sleep schedule because of it. So now, on my bedside table, there are books that require a little effort to read, which are totally okay to put down when I feel sleep coming.
Exactly.
I’m not so much triggered by “should” as “should’ve.”
I can see how books about people in difficult situations are appealing. When current stuff gets too much, I read on Hannah Arendt’s The Origins of Totalitarianism Vol. 3, and have recommended it as helpful to a friend, and in comments on news articles used “should” as in all the volumes should be in high school and university libraries and public libraries.
Yes, “should” includes how quickly you finish a book. Right now I’m from time to time rereading Our Mutual Friend which is something I started for Victober. If I don’t get it finished in time for next Victober, that’s ok. I’m reading a chapter a week on another book to keep up w/ a book discussion on youtube.
Hello my name is Julio Herrera. I fully agree with the writer. Templeton challenges the common notion that readers must adhere to certain expectations, like reading classics or avoiding genres deemed less serious. Instead, she encourages reading what feels right in the moment, emphasizing that enjoyment and personal choice should take precedence. By letting go of external reading obligations, individuals can rediscover the joy of reading without guilt or resistance.
Thank you for this. I’ve been thinking of dropping out of a book club, and this has put my nebulous reasons into focus. The next four books are “shoulds” that I really, really don’t want to read and I need to stop feeling guilty about it.
I read Greek Lessons first, last year, and fell in love with that delicate love story, and THEN I read Human Acts and I could barely speak for days after finishing it. Of course, we had just had our election here in the US, so that had something to do with it. And now Han Kang has won the Nobel. You just never know what is going to happen next. I’m glad to have found her, and I’m sure I will read all of her works now (because I SHOULD and also because I WANT TO). You are right about “should.” I think we “should” all do what we want when it comes to books–one of the true freedoms we still have and might have in the future if we are diligent. And lucky. Finally, I really appreciate all of your writing here, Molly. Thank you for sharing with us.
Thank you so much for writing and posting this. My reading is dominated by “shoulds,” but for a long time I thought they weren’t because they were “shoulds” that I kept going back to because they went against “regular” “shoulds” (I hope this makes sense, haha,) I’m very, very, very slowly getting better at this, but I still have a long way to go.
A personal example: Last month, I read the second installment in a series that I love, and when I finished it, I wanted to pick up the next book immediately (I normally don’t have the urge to do that.) I fought against the urge for close to a week, trying to pick up other books, because I kept telling myself I “should” be reading other things instead, but nothing grabbed me the way I knew the sequel would. I finally gave in and read the sequel, and I loved it as much as I knew I would.
One of my favourite authors, Kate Heartfield, helped me come to terms with those seasons where I simply cannot read the “difficult” books I “should.” If all I can read is Agatha Christie then I read Agatha Christie because it is better for me to read than not read.
I try to pay attention to the “should reads” as indicators of what I feel like at the moment rather than indicators of my capacity.
When you have too many options that all look inviting, that’s when you can let the “should”s help you decide. But if only one thing appeals, read that. It’s like hunger, even though you said it wasn’t fair to call some books nutritious, they kind of are – but when all that you can keep down is sugar water, sugar water is good for you.
When I’m so stressed out that the only thing I can focus on well to read is a familiar beloved book or the next book by an author whose work predictably works for me in a certain way, then I read that. When I’m in an expansive and exploratory mood, that’s when I read the things I have been putting off but know I’ll get something out of if I put in the work to read them.
This is a great essay. I feel I gave up the “should reads” years ago, but I still struggle with feeling I absolutely have to read all the books (hundreds) I’ve bought or traded for over the years before I can even consider buying or reading anything new. Reading this will likely help me get past that hurdle. Thank you.