Hoping for a pleasant third reading cycle

I started reading rather late but picked up pace in college. During engineering, one doesn't really need to study and I devoted long hours cooped up on bed with a book in hand. This was time I discovered the joys of Virginia Woolf, Alan Hollinghurst, Henry James and Ruth Prawer Jhabvala. There was something ineffable about the joy of reading. The pleasure that Sarah Waters' books gave me was so definite that I remember taking them to the bathroom even when I had to pee. This was entirely new for me, every page held the promise of some magic handed to me in neat little moments.

This was entirely unstructured reading. I was still developing my political affiliation. Like all youngsters, I was in awe of leftism and its attendant ideologies. Without knowing too much, I instinctively felt for the rights of women, the subaltern and the marginalised. This was the natural progression to what had been my lack of reflection. My politics stemmed from my intestines. My gut feelings.

That was my first reading cycle. After I became a journalist, I came in touch with a different set of writers. Naipaul, Greene and Kundera opened my eyes to news ways of seeing. I moved from estimating ideologies to estimating individuals. Feminism, racism and the environment movement still held an emotional charge for me but I was more willing now to listen to the story and accommodate doubt. In other words, I became less militant about ideology and more accommodating of narrative.

This, my second reading cycle, was coterminous with my shift towards right-of-centre. Big government, the scandalous climate change debate, and terror all focused my mind on the need to relook at my beliefs. The transformation was slow but definite. It was also more full-bodied in that I allowed myself the freedom to hold disparate views culled from different ideologies without bracketing myself within a framework. On gay rights, I was and am left-of-centre but am against gay marriage (though for vastly different reasons than the religious right).

But my point is this: My reading also has changed, and not just in the texts I read but also in how I approach them. I am more cautious of believing blindly what the writer is pointing towards, and I want to bring my imprint on my reading. In other words, I have turned into an active reader from an erstwhile passive one. I am now looking for red flags in the texts I read to alert myself to any propaganda, ideology or back-channel theorizing. This has enabled me to become a better judge of what I will and will not like. For instance, I know that I can read the Financial Times' Oped page without worrying for the health of my mind. They will not stuff pansies down my throat. I mean the flowers. The WSJ has in fact started marking its columns as left, right or centre leaning.

However, I also miss the innocent joy that my earlier reading brought me. Especially fiction. It is very important to approach fiction with a generous mind since then it brings you the greatest fruits. My critical eye, while doubtless helpful in my political leanings, is hampering my enjoyment of literature.

I hope the next phase in my reading cycle will bring back the original pleasures in addition to new, hard ways of examining things.