Book knowledge

This week I took the boys to the library to join the summer ‘Reading Journey’ activity. Over the summer holidays the boys are required to read six books and then answer questions on what they have read to gain a medal for the achievement(presented at school). For R, this is last year he can participate (presumably because he should be reading this amount without bribery! He isn’t), and for P this the first year he has attempted it.

Over the years R has discovered I was a creative child who found many ways to get around the rules of the household. I don't believe R’s often succeeded in pulling a fast one on me, ‘cause I know them all! For instance: at the dinner table no child is allowed dessert if they don’t finish their plate – sounds simple – but there is a way around their fathers eyes; you see, if someone eats their potatoes and gravy (before finishing other things) then they’re allowed to help themselves to seconds – and if you have seconds, you don’t have to finish your plate to get dessert! And what R does is help himself, then push the cauliflower in with the left-over potatoes. He thinks he’s clever, but I’ve given him the eye, and he knows I know! (I should add, that although I agree the children should clear their plates, a good attempt is enough for me and I can’t be bothered with the upset the strictness brings.)

So back in the library, R knows I will check the books he chooses to make sure they don’t have supersize writing and a reading age of five, and mostly importantly – he seems to have finally stopped trying to get away with this!

And then we have P. P loves dragons and pirates and being a good mom, I scoured the shelves with him and was pleased with what I found. He wasn’t.

It seems P has two firm criteria when choosing a book: the cover must be garish and busy to the point of sending you cross-eyed, and it can’t be over one hundred pages long. NOTHING ELSE MATTERS.

I thought of fighting him on his choices, but the reading age was about right and so I decided he could learn a lesson about suffering through poor choices.

But it wasn’t him who learned something. It was me. The stories might have been all over the place, (a couple were about a detective mouse, one was about Jason from Greek mythology, another about a boy who falls into a time-slip) but he’s finished the lot (350 pages total) and had a wonderful (varied!) time along the way. He even begged me to take him back to the library to sit his questions and chose the next batch (which are longer!)

So P impressed me. Not so his father.

My BetterHalf was sceptical that the books had been read and asked P about the stories. Forty minutes later he begged P to shut about the damn stories (he didn’t actually use the words ‘shut up’ or ‘damn’, but you get the picture!)

Then the BH began telling P he wasn’t reading the books correctly. P shouldn’t have been able to read that much in so short a time. According to BH you should read slowly, fully relishing the plot and puns, and not race through it.

I don’t get it. I don’t read like that. If a book is good I can’t help but read it quickly, and if it’s not good then I’m not reading. And I said so.

P sat quietly as an exchange took place. (I won’t go into the details, because one day my husband might discover this blog and then I’d be up shit creek!) But we kept it down to calm sarcasms and the outcome was, I told P he could read a book any way he likes!

But it has got me thinking. Is there a correct way to read a book? Am I getting something basic, so wrong?