Two inconsequences of getting older

How long do you persist with a book before giving up? A while ago, I came across a handy rule of thumb that tells you how many pages you should read before deciding whether to stick with it or leave it:

(100 – your age) divided by 2

So for instance, if you’re 30, you would read 35 pages ((100-30) ÷2) before you guilt-freely give it the boot. And if you live to be 98, well, you can justifiably judge a book by its cover.

What is the basis of this rule? I’d like to think that the older we are, the better able we are to judge a book’s worthiness - to ourselves at least. But I suspect the simple reason is that we have less and less time. The stakes get higher with each passing year. There are only so many books, articles, blogposts you can fit in a lifetime. A sobering thought for those contemplating on doing the “100 books you must read before you die” challenge!

Da Vinci, a man of art and a man of science

Or perhaps we just have less stamina. I remember my adolescence when I would faithfully wait till the very last page of any Agatha Christie novel to find out whodunit. Plus I had good book hygiene. I would patiently go through one novel before starting another – why dilute the experience? But it all started to go awry came the HSC, when I never finished reading my English text, Emma. (Got up to the bit when Emma realised she loved Mr Knightley; Clueless and Cliff’s Notes filled in the rest. It’s very hard to keep the dramatic tension going once the sexual tension is resolved, isn’t it?)

Reading fatigue is not helped by the array of words plying for our attention. A friend used to say that we only have a certain amount of reading energy each day and if that is taken up by reading bullet points and legalese all day, there is precious little left for the important or pleasurable.

And so sadly I am putting this rule of thumb to good practice without intending to. Still, I can’t help feeling a pang of disappointment at not being able to finish what I started.

* * *

On a radio interview some time ago, a scientist made an interesting observation. He said that scientists usually do their groundbreaking work young, while musicians and artists continue producing into their old age.

Case in point: John Nash famously came up with his most important contribution to game theory in his 20s; whilst Picasso painted great works into his 80s.

Why is that? The same scientist postulates this is because in science, you need to be constantly interacting with new information in order to come up with a novel idea. An aging scientist is ill-suited to do this, not least because he or she is taken up by administrative tasks like running departments and applying for grants. Whereas in the arts, the information you need to create and keep creating is acquired in youth, and growth occurs internally.

Interesting. We don't choose our vocation based on its longevity – how a businessman might last longer than a barrister, who might last longer than a surgeon, who might last longer than a footballer. And at this rate of increasing life expectancy, we might all need second or third careers to round out our working lives. So it is natural that many people turn to writing and teaching in their retirement.

There’s a saying in Chinese tradition, “if you read ten thousand books, you might as well walk ten thousand miles” – meaning – it is better to step out, travel and experience the world firsthand than to read about it in books.

But when reading ability is in decline, and the wanderlust is gone, it’s good to know that the final and most thrilling journey happens inside.