
In response to the question of why we read, C. S. Lewis once wrote, “We seek an enlargement of our being. We want to be more than ourselves.”1 Lewis — an exemplar of what we mean by a “well-read person”, if the term means anything — knew how books could broaden us in just that way.
We push back the boundaries of our minds, expand our moral territory, widen our cultural gaze in order to be more than we presently are. We try to be more widely read, widely travelled, more open-minded and open-hearted. We often seek this by concentrating on breadth. We open up our personal canons to make sure we read from other cultures and voices; we challenge the repertoire of our own tastes. This is, of course, a good thing. However —
We too often overlook depth in our frantic search for breadth. We fail to see how going deeper is often what we need to go wider. We keep a tally of how many books we read each year, as if hitting a magic number will at last grant us the accolade of “well read”. But this does damage twice over.
First, it perpetuates the myth that our learning can end, that there will be a final test we can pass or fail. The wonderful reality is that becoming our best selves is a lifelong process.
Second, it confers a certain momentum on our seeking, so we move ever faster in the hope of reaching the mythical finish line sooner — or become that much wiser that much quicker. Oftentimes, the best route is the slow one. The journey (to paraphrase some popular wisdom that actually turns out to be correct) is not beside the point, it is the point. All that scenery on the scenic route is what furnishes the life of the mind.
It’s worth occasionally slowing down and taking a second look, a closer look, at things of value. Because just as Keats knew that a thing of beauty is a joy forever, the genius of certain works are never truly “used up”. Paul Valéry once wrote that a poem is never finished, only abandoned; likewise, the study of a novel, the soul-searching within a piece of art, is never finished. We simply move on from it. I’m here to argue that you should re-read something beautiful, rediscover something wise.
Which is why I’m bringing a new series to Art of Conversation: Words of Wisdom.
In each edition, we’ll zoom in on a passage of writing — a short essay, a chapter, a speech — from a great thinker on a specific topic. It will be one piece of text and one big idea, and we’ll take a close look at the latter through the former. I’m planning on bringing you selections mostly from non-fiction, at least to begin with. I want to grapple directly with ideas by showing how others have wrestled with them. Eventually, I expect to draw on poetry and fiction as well.
It’s fitting that I opened this introduction with a quote from C. S. Lewis, as he’s the first writer we’ll turn to in the new series. You’ll be able to read it on Saturday.
Happy reading,
Matthew
An Experiment in Criticism, C. S. Lewis (1961)