On reading slowly

I read slowly. Some months, I read one book. I do not apologise for this anymore. I used to.

A book that you finish in three hours has a different relationship to your life than a book you read for a month, between other things, with a pencil in your hand. The fast book gives you information. The slow book gives you company.

The way I read now: the book sits on the table for a week before I open it. I read in mornings, fifteen minutes, with coffee. I underline very little. I write in the margins. I close it before the chapter ends and let the chapter finish in me. I re-read the first page of every chapter before moving on to the next one.

I do not finish many books this way. The ones I do finish, I rarely have to read again — they become part of how I see.

This is a long way of saying: a library is not a collection of books. It is a collection of long, slow relationships.