Learning to Read

A couple months ago, I picked up a copy of Crime and Punishment from the local used book store and started to plod through it. I usually make a bee line for the computer section, but was inspired by a coworker who told me he was planning on reading it. Having gone through engineering school and missing out on the liberal arts education exposure to the classics, I thought it might be a good opportunity to read and discuss with someone else.

About twenty pages in, I was quickly reminded why I prefer non-fiction to fiction; I couldn't tell what the hell was going on. I've observed that I actually find it easier to read something as dry as Structure and Interpretation of Computer Programs than a spy novel like The Polish Officer. I've pretty much accepted that fact, and used it to my advantage to some extent by constantly reading evermore about programming, but this time I wanted to take a stand.

Why is it, I thought, that I have such a hard time sticking with fiction (with the exception of sci-fi I'd imagine most middle schoolers can read)? It turned out to be the characters. About twenty of them in the first fifty pages. I'd come across yet another generic Russian name (Yakov Smirnov) and wonder whether it was the protagonist or some minor passerby whom I'd never encounter again for the rest of the book.

Eureka! It's my crappy memory. I can't remember people's names until I've met them at least a few times and my spelling is terrible (I've already been nagged a half dozen times by Firefox's new check as you go tool while writing this post), so no wonder I can't keep track of a barrage of new characters every time I open a new fiction book. With technical books, it's more of filling in a piece or two into a partially solved puzzle.

Having identified the problem I set out with a new tool: a pad of paper next to my bed. Each time I encountered an unfamiliar name, I'd look it up and jot down a few notes if it was really someone new, or refresh my memory if not. This worked really well. After the first hundred pages, I finally knew the main characters well enough to enjoy the book, consulting the pad less and less often.

I wonder if my brain will ever rewire itself to get better at this sort of thing. In the meantime, at least I have figured out how to expand my horizons a bit, even if I'm going to look like a complete dufus next time I head to the beach with a pad of paper to accompany my paperback:)