Apr 3 2010

What I learned from reading stories

I grew up in that age when computers weren’t common. We had one at home (that ran Windows 3.1!!) that I played some disney games on (hey, I was 6 ok!). But we never played it that much. My parents always pushed us to play properly instead. By properly I mean imagining trolls and wizards, heroes and ninja swords, fighting together to save the world. Well, I was 6.

But even better, they pushed us to read. So when my sister started reading a whole bunch of story books, I figured that I should follow big sis and read as well. Now, when I think back, I realize it was peer pressure. She was half of my play group (my little brother was the other half) so I had to bow down to peer pressure!

So I read a few books. Then a few more. Then more. And then I finished off the books we had. I still remember them. Mostly Enid Blytons at the time; stories about little kids who dealt with imps and witches, stories of children who climbed trees a hundred stories high, stories of boys and girls with a hollow tree in their backyard.

And we begged to buy more books and my parents said yes! So while we waited, we read the books a few more times. Then we went to the bookstore and bought a ton of books (like 3 or 4!!). And we devoured them in a few days. Then wanted more. So we read the same old ones a second time. And a third and fourth and fifth time.

I’m kind of sad that a lot of my generation and the generation after me don’t read as much. It taught me so much more than just the stories inside.

1. It taught me to see from 2 perspectives at once.

By its very nature, reading a story book means that you have to see from 2 perspectives. You have to read it and be the one telling the story, telling it as how the author wrote it, with emphasis here, a question there, an aura of mystery when the hero opens the door. You also have to be the one receiving the story, the reader who sits back and enjoys the tale that the author has spun.

It gives you that oh-so-important skill of being able to speak in a conversation and understanding how you are saying it (as the author) and how the listener hears it (as the reader).

2. It taught me to imagine.

How do you teach a kid to have fun and imagine and play? Well, you could just get him a huge empty box and he’d build a fort out of it. Or a time machine. Or a transmogrifier. That’s what my parents did. Got me a big empty box I mean. I don’t think they know how to build a transmogrifier.

Reading stories only gives you the words. It’s up to you to imagine those words, and those worlds. How the heroes look like, and how sturdy the forts are. How fast the horses gallop and how an elf talks. It forces you to imagine, and so… you do.

3. It taught me proper spelling and grammar.

Yes, I’m that guy who hates it when people don’t spell properly. If I’m not spelling properly, please tell me. I’ll be glad to fix it.

4. It taught me what good manners can be like.

A lot of those stories I read as a kid were stories about kids. And it was always emphasized that you must have good manners. They would mind their P’s and Q’s when visiting other peoples’ homes. They would tip their hat to ladies. They would always help neighbours carry groceries in from the car.

These are acts  that can barely be found any more. At least not in my parts of the world.

5. It taught me to write.

How can you know how to write properly until you’ve seen it done before? Therefore, to write properly you must read properly. It’s an amazing feeling to be able to put your thoughts into words, even if it’s only for just you alone to see. It’s part of why I write on this blog, to write more often so that I don’t forget to.

What it sums up to…

…is that reading stories is such a rich experience that I pity those who do not enjoy it. I hope that people will start reading more, just because it’s amazing.

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  1. What I learned from Math

By Lutfi Torla • Featured, Reflections • 8 • Tags: , , ,