Reading to Write
People read differently for different purposes. When you read in order to cram for a quiz, you might scan only the first line of every paragraph of a text to remind yourself of the argument's main points. When you read for pleasure, you might permit yourself to linger for a long while over a particular phrase or image that you find appealing. It shouldn't come as a surprise, then, that when you read in order to write a paper, you must read as a writer. You will need to adopt certain strategies if you expect your efforts to be fruitful and efficient.
Read Actively
When you know that you are going to write a paper about a book or article, prepare yourself to read actively. Don't read a text simply to get its information. This method of reading is passive: you "receive" the text as you read, and you hold off making any intellectual response to the text until after you've finished reading it.
This way of reading doesn't get you very far. While reading passively might enable you to understand the gist of the argument, you'll likely overlook the many twists and turns the argument took on the way to making its point. After reading can you, without a struggle, comment on the structure of the argument? Its use of language? Its wealth of detail?
Probably not. And so you have to read the book again, this time making notes to yourself about the argument and its development. While a second - or third or fourth - reading of a text is always a good idea, it's certainly better to read well the first time through. You can then ensure that your subsequent readings will take you deeper and farther than you might otherwise have gone.
But how do you become an active reader?
Break the Linear Tradition
To become an active reader, you have to rid yourself of the idea that the most efficient way to write a paper is to read first, think later, and write last of all. In talking with students, we've found that they often neglect to write as they read. When you read, do you stop to jot down questions? Do you challenge the writer? Do you search your soul for what you really believe about the topic at hand? Once you've begun writing, do you ever go back to the text? Perhaps you go back to find a piece of evidence that will support your claims, but do you do the kind of re-reading that will force you to reconsider the text and your own position on it? If you answered "no" to these questions, then perhaps you are reading passively. Your thinking will not go as far as it might, and your papers will suffer accordingly.
Trust Your Gut
Once you understand that you ought to be reading actively, you'll begin to pay more attention to your reactions to the text. It's not a bad idea to keep track of how a text makes you feel while you are reading it. If you find yourself getting angry or growing bored, ask yourself why. Is the argument coming apart? Are there too many details? Not enough? Is the writer a misogynist? bigot? liberal? conservative? jerk? Pay attention to your own responses. They might be the seeds for your paper.
It's possible, too, that you'll find yourself "wowed" by a text. Or that some particular detail, which the author touches on in passing, seems to you to hold the key to a problem that you've been thinking about for a long time. Again, pay attention to yourself as you read. Monitor your reactions. Interrogate them. They might lead you to an interesting paper topic.
Enter the Conversation
When a writer writes a book she is, in a sense, inviting you into an ongoing conversation. She is taking a position in the great human debate, and she is asking you to take yours. When you write a paper in college, you are entering this conversation.
Understand that scholarship is the written exchange of a particular community - in this case, the academic community. As a student, you have joined this community, attending it like you might attend a cocktail party that has the peculiar quality of being centuries-long. In essence, what is expected of you as a student isn't so very different from what is expected from you as a party-goer. As is true of any party, there are principles of conduct that govern your behavior. Nevertheless, the basic principles of conversation are the same in the academy as they are at the cocktail party: you must listen well, you must think about what you are hearing and your response to it, and you must contribute to the conversation in a way that is relevant, thoughtful, and interesting.
In order to enter the conversation fully as a writer, you must first enter the conversation fully as a reader. Pay attention to the text. Take note of how you feel about what the author is saying. Then consider the argument that the author is presenting to you. Are there gaps in the argument? Do you want to challenge these gaps? Do you want to fill them in? Do you want to acknowledge the validity of the argument and then apply it to things that the author hasn't seemed to consider?
All of these questions move you beyond your own reactions to a consideration of the argument. Your conversation with the writer has begun.
Use the Margins
Maybe the best practical advice we can give you about reading more actively is to make use of the margins. In some important ways, an unmarked book is an unread book. Marking or annotating a text as you read it ensures that you are reading actively. Even the simple act of underlining a passage requires you to ask yourself what is most important in a text. The act of weighing importance is one way of breaking the habit of passive reading.
But you can do much more in the margins than simply make note of important passages. You can ask questions in the margins. You can draw arrows, establishing obscure connections in the text. You can note patterns of imagery or language as you see them. You can locate contradictions. You can get feisty, even, and call the author out for a debate.
You also might find that you can demystify a text by writing in it. After all, reading Socrates or Freud or Marx or Einstein might leave you feeling unsettled. Intimidated, even. These minds seem so original, so perfect in their way, that it seems impossible that your professor is asking you to make some comment on them. Even when you read unknown writers you might feel intimidated. After all, they are published. Their work is deemed good enough to find its way into print. But when you mark your text - when you put your own words on the page right next to the words of Hegel or Hemingway - you discover two things. First is that there is "room" for you on the page. Neither Hegel nor Hemingway has the last word on any subject. Second, you come to see that your process is not so different from theirs. They read texts and they responded to them by writing. Now you are, too.
Moving Outside the Text
One important idea to understand when you read is that every text has a context. Remember that every writer is in conversation: with other writers, with history, with the forces of her culture, with the events of his time. It is helpful, for example, to read Karl Marx or Sigmund Freud with some knowledge of their moment in history. Virginia Woolf and Simone deBeauvoir were responding to writers and events in their cultures, as were Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin. When you understand the context of a work, you can better see the forces that moved the author to write that work. You will gain clarity about what and why the writer was writing. You may even gain clarity about what you yourself would like to say.
But how do you place a work in context if you know nothing about the historical time in which it was written? You might take a trip to the library or do some on-line research. Perhaps your professor has reserved some books on the subject. Maybe she has discussed the context of a particular book in class.
Even if you know nothing about the context of a particular book or writer, you know a lot about the context of a particular reader: you. You are a member of a complex culture that provides you with a particular context for your reading experience. Your gender, race, and socioeconomic class provide context(s) for your understanding of a text. You bring your own context(s) with you when you read texts as diverse as the Declaration of Independence, the Koran, the films of Fellini, and the transcriptions of the Watergate tapes.
One word of caution: context needs to be examined with care. Don't assume that the context of your own class or gender or culture is informing you correctly. Read context as actively and as rigorously as you read text!
Reading Differently in the Disciplines
Each of the different academic disciplines - English, History, Sociology, Psychology, Biology, and so on - constructs knowledge differently. Each of the disciplines therefore asks you to read differently. Sometimes, in fact, they ask you to "read" things that you wouldn't normally consider as text. For example, in a Sociology class, you might be asked to "read" the behaviors of a particular group of people. In a History class, you might be asked to "read" a sequence of events. In a Geography class, you might be asked to "read" a certain space. You might, in the course of your college career, be asked to "read" a painting, a film, an advertisement, an event, a laboratory experiment, or any number of fascinating things.
Before you take on the task of reading any sort of text, you'll want to make sure that you understand the discipline in which the text was created and in which you are working. What are the conventions and practices for reading, writing, and thinking in this particular discipline? How can you best enact these? Talk with your professors, who are experts in their fields and who can help you to better understand the practices they themselves use to construct knowledge.
Resources for Improving Reading
Some students have other, more general problems with reading. Perhaps they read too slowly, or they have a problem with retention. If you feel that you are one of these students, or if you simply want to learn strategies for reading more effectively, contact the Academic Skills Center for information about their workshops and other resources.