Should I Remember What I Read?

I’ve read books where I can remember the story but not the title. I’ve read books where I remember the title and not the story. There are scenes from books that I remember reading. But I don’t remember what books they were from or what else happened in the story. I read over 90 books in 2021, and when I go back through my Goodreads account, I’ve already forgotten that I read them or reread them. Chunks of the stories are already missing from my memory, falling off like an iceberg while the rest of it hides below sea level in the depths of my subconscious.

There’s a stereotype that people who read a lot have accumulated all of this knowledge and information when really, we don’t accumulate much at all. What stays behind are those little slivers of a book that pack a punch, whether it’s an epic scene, poignant line, interesting character, or unforgettable title. There’s only so much room in our heads to retain this information, and more often than not, we don’t have visuals to help us out. So, reading is more about being in the moment than retaining it for another time.

Still, reading comprehension is always a skill that I have struggled with, despite being an avid reader since before I even knew how to read. My reading history and habits have a lot to do with that. And it keeps me wondering: should I remember what I read?

Being read to

Before I could read, I always wanted someone to read to me. Whatever parent was free would get a book shoved onto their lap, usually one of a handful of favorites from my much larger collection.

Kids like to be read the same stories over and over. They like the familiarity of knowing what’s coming and the rhythm with which their parents tell it. It’s comforting to know that any conflicts will be resolved and your favorite parts will emerge at just the right time. Kids gravitate towards certain illustration styles. I always went for big, colorful books, often featuring Muppets or Disney characters, anyone I knew from cartoons.

But being read to also allows you to zone out. It’s why kids like to be read before bed. It puts you into a meditative state. You lose focus and miss parts. But if you already know the story inside and out, it doesn’t matter, unless the reader tries to skip some parts. That’s the kid equivalent to someone turning off the TV when you’re asleep in front of it. It jolts you awake and messes up that rhythm.

When reading comes naturally

In school, I got a lot of self-esteem from being labeled a fast reader. Learning to read is a big deal, and the fact that it came so easily to me made it feel like a superpower.

In all actuality, I’d been training to learn to read long before I was actually taught to read. Letters, words, and stories were just naturally interesting to me. It was fun for me to practice writing my letters or memorizing my favorite picture books the way that other kids practice sports or music.

At the same time, I could see why others didn’t have fun with it. In the same way that anything other than basic arithmetic stumped me in the math world, had learning to read taken more effort, I don’t think I would have taken to it as willingly as I did. I can’t think of another skill that did come easily to me. I’ve had to work at every other interest that I had, like playing the clarinet, learning to draw, or playing softball. I worked at these things because I liked to do them, and I got better and sometimes even did well in them. But I never excelled.

Reading fast over reading well

Being an “advanced reader” though had me thinking that I had to read fast in order to be “advanced.” I put a high priority on reading aloud as fast as an adult. I sped through books each week so that I could read more books than anyone in my class, and eventually, the whole school. Being the fastest and reading the most meant being the best.

When we would take state tests, I would zoom through the reading comprehension portions of the tests and fill in those lettered bubbles with the corresponding questions as if I were being timed. I would close my workbook and sit there all smug, waiting for the teacher to call “time’s up” before passing our bubble sheets forward.

Then the test results would come back, and I would do well. But my reading comprehension scores were never great. I wasn’t reading through the story prompts well enough. I was just skimming them and answering the questions as quickly as I could without taking the time to really think them over and go back and reread anything that I had missed. There were no points for finishing first, only points for getting them right.

My parents explained to me that I needed to slow down and really grasp at what I was reading. And I would for the sake of my grades. But when it came to leisurely reading, I would speed right back up again.

Holding interest in a book

Readers devour their favorite books quickly. So to me, if I’m enjoying a book, I’m getting through it fast. If I’m just starting a new book, I have to force myself to slow down to keep from missing anything in the beginning because I’m unconsciously trying to get to the meat of the story from those introductory pages.

As a result, I’ve found myself starting books and then giving up on them right away. If I’m distracted or not in the mood or find that I’m not interested the genre or the writing style is too dense, I give up. This isn’t a bad thing, but I do feel like I don’t give certain books a fighting chance.

Starting to read a new book is almost as hard as starting to write a new book, especially a book you haven’t read before. The reader has to build a world in their head based on cues from the author. And you have to be on board to construct a world that closely resembles the one in the author’s head.

I recently started trying to read Wuthering Heights via an audiobook. But I started it while engaged in several other activities. So, I didn’t give it a decent chance. But at the same time, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to return to it because of the little that I did retain from my 30 minute session of listening to a narrator tell me this classic story.

Listening to audiobooks

Speaking of audiobooks, the debate about whether or not audiobooks count as reading aside, I do listen to a lot of books, mostly bestseller recommendations, via audiobooks. Audiobooks give me more time to read because I can multitask as I listen to them, even if that multitasking is just by doing another leisurely activity, like art or puzzles or taking a walk.

But not having your eyes on the page is a huge opportunity to let your mind wander. And I’ve lost track of many audiobooks by spacing out while someone else is telling the story. It can be hard to catch up even losing five minutes of comprehension.

It’s interesting how important it seems to stay on track while reading a book, even knowing that a year from now, much of the plot will have been erased from your memory. But reading requires you to be in the present. And as easy as it is for your mind to wander while listening to an audiobook, it’s just as easy for moments to stick, and that can only happen if you are engaged in the plot while reading it so that the moment has a meaningful framework with which to be caught in the web of your memory.

The amount of books there are to read

There are certain books that I know I’m never going to read. There are certain graphic novels that I stay away from and nonfiction that I have no interest in picking up. But for every book that I know I don’t want to read, there are several more that I know I will.

This may play into my penchant for reading fast. My stomach tightens every time I look at my to-be-read pile. There are books that have been sitting on that shelf for years. There are other books that I’ve just added to the pile after forbidding myself to buy more books. The memes are all true. We buy more than we can read. And there are more books that we want to read than we can ever read in a lifetime.

At the same time, we procrastinate over reading. We’re so eager to do it, but then when the time comes, we tend to watch something else or do something else. Because like starting a new book, it’s hard to pick up where you left off, unless it is one of the best books you’ve ever read, and they can’t all be. And even then, you have to be in the mood for that particular story.

So, my desire to read a lot of books prompts me to fly through them. I’ll skip over boring passages, skim through others in order to hit a daily page count or self-imposed stopping point in that reading session. If I’m getting close to the end, I’ll fly though the climax or big action pieces. I rarely stop to study the art when I read graphic novels, too concerned with turning to the next page. And as a result, I know I’m missing key details that a slower but more attentive reader is going to catch.

Reading books as a reviewer

Since becoming a book reviewer, the pressure to read through a book fast is more intense than ever. I’m trying to meet deadlines, read as much as I can, and help out as many writers as I can. But reviewing books also means dissecting them and comprehending them more than any book that I read for fun.

So, I force myself to take notes, to write down when I’m having a profound thought about the story and its larger themes or specific character beats. I jot notes about major plot points so that I can easily throw together a plot summary at the beginning of my review. And I write down my takeaways so that I can convey what I took from the story. I’m always overjoyed when writers said I nailed the point of their book. It confirms the fact that I actually paid attention.

Years of pulling apart stories in high school and college, listening to and reading story breakdowns online, and my own tendency to pick apart my all-time favorite stories has given me the practice I need to do this as a reviewer. It has also helped with my reading comprehension. I know that I can’t retain everything. And anywhere from a few months to a few years later, I may forget a lot about that books I’m reading now.

But good books leave you with a feeling. And that feeling has prompted me to reread certain books over the year. Sometimes I like them better. And sometimes, I don’t like them as much upon repeat readings. But they definitely imprint on me in some way.

Whether it’s a line of dialogue, a short scene, or the story as a whole, they leave their mark. And whatever my brain tends to remember stays with me and helps me to see what I value most when it comes to stories, philosophies, and life in general.

What kind of reader are you? What, if anything, do you do to retain what you read? Leave your answers in the comments below!

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