On being afraid of books

Morgan Baden  //  Aug 5, 2015

On being afraid of books

Five weeks ago as I was getting my summer reading booklist ready, I bought a hefty tome that's been earning rave reviews.

I am still too scared to read it, though.

Has that ever happened to you? Have you ever wanted to read something, even gone out of your way to find/purchase/borrow it, only to then watch it languish on your bookshelf because you're afraid of it?

The thing about this particular book is that, while I'm sure it's an excellent piece of literature, I am also sure that it is deeply, darkly intense. Reviewers and other readers have warned me that it is an emotionally tough read, that there will be tears, that I may not even finish it, that it will make me question humanity. (You know, all the existential questions everyone loves to dive in to during their 30-minute commutes.) So I'm hesitant to begin it.

A lot of readers don't read certain books because they're afraid of them, of course. I asked around, and several OOMers won't go near the Stephen King oeuvre. (Michael says about It: "Big ol' NOPE to clowns.") Brittany wouldn't even touch a book about spiders she had in her home as a child.

What I'm talking about here is more than just being a scaredy-cat, though. It's about something deeper; about how a book has the potential to shake you to your core, and whether you're ready for that. For example, Anne says she's afraid to read Go Set a Watchman because it might affect her feelings about To Kill a Mockingbird. Julia, meanwhile, skips entire sections of books if something bad is happening to a child. She just can't stomach the idea. As a new mom myself, I can see doing that, too. (Already, my love for horror movies has begun abating, thanks to this new chasm of fear that parenthood has opened up in me.) 

What should we do with the books that scare us? The obvious answer, the brave answer, is to read them, of course. To examine our fears, try to learn from them, overcome them.

I'm going to give that book I bought all those weeks ago a try. Really, I am. Just as soon as I finish this light-hearted romp about five teenagers lost at sea. I promise.