Philosophy

Why do I write these incomplete, inconsequential little book reviews? Sometimes I wonder what the point is.

I can think of three reasons. First, I have such a bad memory that writing down my reactions after finishing a book is the only way of ensuring that I have any recollection at all of what I read.

Second, it is a discipline for me as a writer. Sometimes I have time to write a review that is a little more polished than the others, but usually they are simple and undistinguished. The act of sitting down to write at all is usually the hardest thing for writers, and I consider each book review a triumph in that respect.

Third, I would like to be someone who creates more than she consumes. I find myself going crazy with all the information I feel like I should take in, and taking stuff in always seems to take priority. Perhaps I feel like it is a preparation before I am equipped to say anything. But there is no way to consume everything! At some point we must stop. I hate feeling like I am just going from one book to the next without time to reflect and absorb it into my life. These book reviews are a response to what I have taken in, a minor creative endeavor. I submit that if we don’t have time to respond to the books we read, we don’t really have time to read.

In sum, these book reviews are simple, safe, and not too revealing; and perhaps they are somewhat interesting for the few people who read them. I can find nothing to say against the habit of writing them.