Today (September 8th) happened to be International Literacy Day, a day that I would expect to celebrate by being a big reader. I am often asked if I get tired of reading, because I read nearly every day and read an enormous amount of books. I tend to read somewhat widely, and since I have been a child I have always kept up reading in some fashion, and I haven’t gotten tired of it yet. I try to vary the subjects I read to allow for some sort of variety, and so I seek to blend the desire to study certain fields or genres in detail along with the desire to keep enough variety to avoid boredom. So far, as far as it comes to reading, I have been successful in this. Yet if I do not find myself to have read too much, I find myself having read into things too much for a reason as straightforward and predictable as it is somewhat unusual.

As someone who has a great love of reading and critically analyzing texts, to the point where many of the authors I read tend to appreciate the way I look deeply and thoughtfully at the books I read, I suppose it ought to be expected that I would consider people to be texts as well. Not only do I tend to find people and situations to be rich in opportunities for reading and rereading and seeking to understand layers. It is with regards to people where I think I tend to read too much. To be sure, people are far more complicated than the texts in books, as they change over time and are part of far more complicated narrative arcs than even the most ambitious novels. Yet if people have a lot that can be read, there is a lot that can be misread as well, and I cannot pretend that my search for layers and layers of communication and meaning has always served me well in understanding others correctly, or in living a life as peaceful as possible.

One aspect where reading too much into a situation is common and problematic is when I receive the gift or loan of books. I do not tend to be a person who thinks naturally when it comes to gifts. I am always curious about the meaning of gifts, or wonder if there is some sort of communication going on when a gift is given. This is especially true when the gift is a book, given the layers of meaning I associate with books anyway. There are times, of course, when a book is given with a clear meaning. For example, when I was a child books were a frequent gift from my father, who had a taste for nonfiction and assumed (correctly) that nonfiction books about military history would be appreciated with a minimum of ulterior motives read into it. He played to his strengths and showed some understanding of someone who has often been difficult to understand in my life. Not everyone has been so understanding in terms of books, although to be honest, I have never received the gift of a book that has been remotely as problematic as the time one of my relatives gave me a pink dress shirt, with all kinds of anxieties and concerns read into that. So, all of those who have pondered over gifts and the way I would interpret them know that they have an easy bar to reach for an acceptable line.

My inclination to read into situations as well can be a bit problematic, and certainly stressful. One example among many should suffice. Once I had a short conversation with a friend of mine who said something rather simple, “I lied.” She said it with such passion and intensity, though, that I had to wonder what layers of meaning were added beyond the original to account for the impassioned nature of the communication. I tend to be a person of honesty and integrity, yet there are times when it is difficult to speak the truth, or even to comprehend it and express it in any way. It certainly is possible that my friend felt it necessary to state something but did not have the time or capacity to explain all of the layers. Obviously, that kind of situation is going to lead me think and ponder, even if it is impossible to get to the bottom of such a thing, which is one reason why the reading into situations is not helpful, because there is clearly some deeper meaning but not enough context to make the meaning plain. And this is the reason why one can read too much, with the reading having nothing to do with books at all.