Reading anxiety: A simple calculation shows that none of us has enough time left:
[A]t some point along the path to discovery, the reader confronts his or her reading mortality. There's only so much time. And there are so many great books. And every year more books are published, some of which will be great. Reluctantly, the reader begins to acknowledge the appalling necessity of choosing to read certain good things and not other good things.
In his 1994 book The Western Canon, literary critic Harold Bloom leaned right on to the literary panic button. "What shall the individual who still desires to read attempt to read, this late in history? The Biblical threescore years and 10 no longer suffice to read more than a selection of the great writers in what can be called the Western tradition, let alone in all the world's traditions. Who reads must choose, since there is literally not enough time to read everything, even if one does nothing but read."
Harold Bloom was on NPR this morning, and I think he blames J.K. Rowling for siphoning the two hours of his time it took to scan the Harry Potter books and grumble into a paper bag.
At any rate, remember Sartre's response to the learned man, who was aspiring to read every book in the library, alphabetically by author:
"THEN WHAT?"
Even if you could read every book ever written, memorize, deconstruct, and recite every last syllable created ... well, NOW WHAT?
I've gotta go. I've got some reading to do.