On reading in relation to literature — Text and Context

The Mechanism of Reading vs. True Reading

Hearn identifies a common pitfall: reading words 'automatically, even pronouncing them quite correctly, while your minds are occupied with a totally different subject.' This mechanical reading, he argues, is not reading at all. He observes that most book buyers 'do not read at all. They only think that they read,' using books to 'kill time.' The result is that out of a thousand people who claim to have read a book, perhaps not one can offer an opinion 'worth hearing.' Hearn’s emphasis is on the need for 'taste and discrimination,' which he says require 'considerable experience with literature' to acquire. He acknowledges rare exceptions with 'inherited literary instinct,' but focuses on the average reader, for whom deliberate practice is essential.

Choosing Translations and Classical Foundations

Hearn offers specific guidance on translations, particularly from Greek. He flatly states that 'all verse translations are useless' for reproducing the original, recommending prose translations instead. For Homer, he praises the Lang and Butcher prose translation of the Odyssey for preserving 'something of the rolling sound and music of the Greek verse.' He considers the Odyssey more important than the Iliad for its romance and its countless references in later literature. For Greek mythology, he recommends Keightley’s Mythology of Ancient Greece and Italy for its 'philosophical spirit.' Hearn cautions that without knowledge of Greek life and art—gained through 'engravings, pictures, coins, statues'—appreciation of classical authors remains limited, a challenge he notes is particularly acute for students in Japan.

The Hierarchy of Literature and the Canon

Hearn proposes a three-tiered ranking of literature. First, works that 'reflect life' in a broad sense. Second, those that offer enduring wisdom. Third, masterpieces of drama, which he considers 'the highest literature.' He acknowledges that the number of such books is small: 'The best, like diamonds, will never be found in great quantities.' He advises students to own good copies of a few choice books and read them throughout life. For European students, Greek authors would be essential, but for his audience, he suggests focusing on outlines of Greek mythology and the stories of major dramas rather than the original texts. He mentions Sophocles, Aeschylus, and especially Euripides as dramatists whose subjects should be known, though he notes that Greek drama 'was constructed upon a plan that requires much study to understand correctly.'

Practical Advice for Building a Personal Library

Throughout the lecture, Hearn emphasizes the importance of owning and repeatedly consulting a small core of books. He recommends the Lang and Butcher Odyssey as a volume 'worth keeping constantly by you,' predicting its utility will become apparent later. For mythology, the Keightley volume is singled out as 'of inestimable service.' Hearn’s approach is pragmatic: he acknowledges the limitations of his audience (e.g., lack of access to classical art in Japan) and tailors his advice accordingly. He does not advocate for exhaustive study but for a focused, lifelong engagement with a few essential texts. This emphasis on selectivity and repeated reading aligns with his broader argument that true reading is an active, disciplined practice, not a passive consumption of stories.

Hearn’s lecture is best approached as a series of provocations rather than a systematic guide. His sharp distinction between mechanical and genuine reading invites readers to examine their own habits. The specific recommendations—for prose translations, for Keightley’s mythology, for the Lang and Butcher Odyssey—offer concrete starting points. Readers should note that Hearn’s advice is shaped by his context: a lecture to Japanese students in the early twentieth century. The value of his observations lies not in their universality but in their insistence that reading is a skill to be cultivated, not a passive intake of text.

Hearn taught me that reading well is less about speed than about patience, a lesson I recall whenever I shelve The Puzzle of Dickens's Last Plot — A Closer Reading. That little volume sits quietly beside his lecture, two old friends whispering about discernment—how a true reader lingers over a single thread, trusting the slow unraveling of a story’s deepest seams.