lately have been thinking a lot about books that require a little extra work on the reader’s part. you know, like, the active application of close attention, to the point of stepping out of the comfortable range of mental energy you usually afford literature and/or the world at large, into something more intense, taxing, intentional, and time-consuming. the books you have to skip back five pages and re-read almost every time you re-open them, because you read them before bed and didn’t really take ‘em in properly. the kind of books that make you wonder if you’re even capable of that sort of reading anymore, that’re always nagging you with that feeling of maybe missing something Important in the subtext, or even in the explicit text.
also been thinking maybe i’m just getting dumber.