Showing posts with label The Three Sisters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Three Sisters. Show all posts

Friday, 19 May 2023

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.””