This is a short book in which Schwartz shares her opinions on reading and life.

The fact that it is not divided into chapters was annoying to me. It made it harder to stop and start, since I didn't want to read it all at once.

Some of her thoughts are spot-on, others I couldn't relate to. Some of her writing is pretentious. There were spoilers for a couple books.

There were too many little sexual references for my taste; though not graphic, they were still unnecessary.

Despite these flaws, I did enjoy the read overall, and have added a few books she mentioned to my to-read list. ( )

essays on books read

Ruined by Reading, A Life in Books, by Lynne Sharon Schwartz (pp. 119). This crisp, seemingly never cracked open copy (bought used at Beers Books in Sacramento) should probably have remained unopened. I was, however, seduced by its title and, like so many lust affairs, was sadly disappointed when reality was no match for imagination. Author Lynne Schwartz was, for me at least, way too introspective and wrapped up in her self. I’m guessing that for some readers this book was as intriguing as Used and Rare was for me, described above, but for me it was a slog through the too private thoughts of the author and contained way too much detail about individual books, few of which were of interest to me. Undoubtedly if you share her tastes in literature this book might resonate with you, but for me I found it severely disappointing. ( )

I love this book. It speaks to me. It gave words to a feeling, an understanding I had always had that I am a reader who cannot remember what I have read but I do remember every single book I have ever read, I remember the cover, I remember whether I liked it, whether it was a keeper, a book to be reread sometime in the future. She speaks of having an inchoate sense of texture and dynamics. She speaks of having, after years, a feel, a texture, an aura, a fragrance. I have always thought of taste, smell, feel as what I retained of books I had read. She talks about people who review books they haven't actually read. They read other reviews, the read the jacket blurb and look at the cover picture and extrapolate a sense of the book but never experience it and claim that minimal action as 'having read' the book. Not in my experience, I feel that is cheating. I have never marked a book read until I have actually read it to the end, at which point it has a chance of being reread in the future, given away, or set on the shelves as a trophy to effort and appreciation. ( )

“In any case the books I have wanted to write brood about what I brood about and they move in uncannily familiar rhythms. Reading them I feel caught out. Some stranger, like the author of Cornelli, has preempted my secrets. I am disarmed, but less alone”. P 68

On books made into movies:“Why can’t I appreciate each on its own terms? Because when I’ve read the book, I stubbornly don’t want anything else. Why should I, when I’ve had the real thing, as originally conceived? Form and content are inseparable, and Greta Garbo, bewitching as she is, is not the Anna Karenina Tolstoy envisioned. If the form changes, the content must change.” P78

These essays on reading were like having a very literate summary of many of my rather hazy thoughts about why I read. It was often like discovering something I already knew, but had not been able to articulate.

The author’s thoughts and my own are definitely in sync. In places where they are not (I do often enjoy movies made from books), I enjoyed her thoughtful point of view. ( )