Something about being interrupted while reading

While looking for more information about Frances Hodgson Burnett, I came across a previously overlooked short paragraph in her classic children's novel A Little Princess that resonates very strongly:

“Never did she find anything so difficult as to keep herself from losing her temper when she was suddenly disturbed while absorbed in a book. People who are fond of books know the feeling of irritation which sweeps over them at such a moment. The temptation to be unreasonable and snappish is one not easy to manage.”

Frances Hodgson Burnett was writing about her young heroine Sara Crewe here, but she was surely speaking for herself – and for many other avid readers, including me, who hate being interrupted while engrossed in a book. Some people do indeed react with annoyance when abruptly dragged out of a book they were immersed in: being brought back to reality in this way is often very jarring and disorienting. 

This extract has inspired some thoughts on the subject of being interrupted while reading. This article includes extracts from another classic children's book and has something to say about the motives of the interrupters.

Reading 'is not an occupation'
Some people devalue reading; it is not seen a worthwhile activity. They equate reading books with idling, with doing nothing useful, so they interrupt because they want to see the reader doing something else.

This scene from Noel Streatfeild's Ballet Shoes is a good example of this attitude:

“...Petrova was sitting on the table in the window reading a book...

The bell rang again.

“Ought to be answered.’’ Cook spoke firmly, partly because her word was law in the kitchen, and partly because whoever answered it, it would not be her. She looked round, but everybody seemed busy; then her eye fell on Petrova. Reading was not an occupation. It came in her view under the heading of “Satan finds....”

“Petrova dear,” she said, “we’re all busy; you run up and see who it is.””

What do Noel Streatfeild and Isaac Asimov have in common?

Many years ago, I read about two very similar incidents in the autobiographies of two very different people.

The first incident was recounted by Noel Streatfeild in her autobiographical work A Vicarage Family. It comes from her school days.

The glamorous, exotic Russian Ballet visited London in the summer of 1911; everyone was talking about them; everyone longed to see them. A teacher took those older girls who could afford it to London for three nights to see some performances. 

Noel (Victoria in the book) was not in the party, despite being obsessed with ballet. She was enthralled by what she heard about the company and was desperate to learn, even if it was only at second hand, all she could about the dancers and the ballets. She listened eagerly when she heard some of the starry-eyed girls discussing the outing with the teacher on their return, trying to catch some of the magic from what they said. 

Noel meant only to listen, but there was so much she wanted to know. She asked some questions that, she later realised, might well have sounded puerile to a teacher who had actually seen the Russians and who was probably tired after the exhausting trip. The teacher reacted strongly and negatively, telling her that if she had nothing more sensible to ask she should say nothing at all. 

Noel felt snubbed and deeply hurt.  Tears came into her eyes. How could anyone be so mean after three lovely days of seeing ballets in London as to refuse to describe them to someone who was too poor to go and see them for herself?

Noel decided that she was not going to forgive her teacher.