Pearl River Reports indicate that reading is down for many, book purchases are flat, and audiobooks are rising. Some have engaged in a back and forth about whether listening to audiobooks should classify as reading. I don’t have a dog in that race. Reading is reading, and listening is listening. Both are invaluable. One might not stand for another, but still have huge merit.
Over the last year or so, I’ve made a deep dive in experiencing audiobooks, so I have a report from this frontier for what it’s worth. If you’re trying to fully analyze and absorb a topic in politics, science, and the like, especially something technical, audiobooks are not ideal. Better to get a book or read on Kindle so that you can highlight and search the results on your computer to aid your memory or note future research.
On the other hand, audiobooks are a perfect fit for learning projects, where time management is also a critical factor. For years, I have had little time in my life for fiction. Here and there will be something irresistible, I’ll need a break, or save something for holidays or year-end vacations, but there’s too much other reading I need to do in order to keep up with work, current affairs, and the changing world to dedicate time in that direction. Driving is a different kind of beast. Back and forth to Little Rock or beyond every month or so is a 13-to-18-hour time suck. In the past, I’d work the dials on the radio, but these days that’s a fool’s errand. There’s only so much far-right conspiracy peddling anyone can handle, and my tolerance is low.
What about rumored great, classic literature like Tolstoy’s War and Peace or Proust’s seven volume Remembrance of Things Past? Is a life well lived without coming to grip with such classics, even if modern life doesn’t allow the time commitment to sit in solitude and read them page by page? Local libraries have apps that allow a listener to check out such audiobooks without cost. War and Peace and Proust’s volumes require investments of about 60 hours each of listening. Who would do that? Well, driving on the highway endlessly, count me in.
What can I report with the year almost gone? War and Peace clocked out in March. Napoleon’s tactics seen from Russian eyes was fascinating, as was upper class life that goes on regardless. The writing on fox hunts in timber reserves with horses was great, though Tolstoy’s lectures were trying. Proust’s volumes were a picture of French upper-class society that wasn’t my cup of tea, but often he was surprisingly modern in looking at marriage, homosexuality, and of course memory palaces populated by sweets and flowers. Spending time with him and his obsessions was an off-and-on affair on drives from April to November. Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina and Flaubert’s Madam Bovary were surprising for their time in examining the frustrations and situation of what Tolstoy called the “woman question,” while delicate, but modern, in dealing with the affairs and consequences that sprang from these conflicts between living life fully and expectations.
I had read Crime and Punishment, when young, and its darkness stayed with me forever, but listening to Dostoevsky’s Notes from the Underground and The Idiot were so different that it was a wonder and thankfully less didactic than Tolstoy. Henry James’ Washington Square was another upper-middle class romp, but closer to home in the USA. Emile Zola’s The Beast Within was a slog, but the sections on trains were marvelous. His Germinal was brilliant and offered such a detailed description of coal mining in that period that its full horror, danger, and destruction were on display, while being an excellent look at the progress and pitfalls of organizing a union among working miners and their communities at the time. I can’t recommend it too highly. Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice looks at an epidemic and a man confronting age and beauty unsuccessfully. His Magic Mountain was less my cup of tea and seemed more about quackery in the sanitorium and the susceptibility of the cousins than much else. I was surprised to read an interview in the Times with George Packer, a frequent reporter on military, politics, and more, who claimed that Hans, the central character, was his favorite of all time.
It made me realize that in this instance and many others over the last year, my personal audiobook project has successfully allowed me to understand and appreciate the references that come from these classics. Listening is learning and entertainment in a different way than reading, but worth the time expended, especially when it ably fills in gaps that would be permanent otherwise and make us poorer because of it in so many ways. Don’t be put off by the argument between physical books, e-books, and audiobooks. I’m first up now on the waiting list for Cervantes’ Don Quixote. It’s a brave new world, so join in heartily!