In her seminal treatise Reader, Come Home; The Reading Brain in a Digital World, writer and educator Maryann Wolf delineates the differences between book reading and screen reading. She describes “the perspective-taking dimension of deep reading,” and highlights the “capacity to be transported from whatever our present realities are to an internal place where we can experience a sharing of the inevitable burdens that typify most human existence,” (46). However, with the cultural shift towards screens, which necessitate quicker scanning patterns and homogenized, simplified, and therefore less nuanced language, the immersive act of deep reading is interrupted. “What will happen,” she wonders, “to young readers who never meet and begin to understand the thoughts and feelings of someone totally different?” (47).
As our society grapples with questions of polarizing identity politics, assignation of moral culpability, and tearing down systems without having a clear vision and a practical plan for replacements, Wolf’s question is profoundly poignant. For the world is messy; there are few purely black-white moments. As educators, we have a responsibility to instruct our students in the way of intellectual honesty and integrity. Language is that way.
Words matter, not because they cause harm; but, rather because they may be misunderstood. It behooves us to ensure that we measure our words and say exactly what we mean to express. The words nice, generous, and kind do not mean the same thing although they all fall on the spectrum of positive modifiers. Deep reading demands that we elevate our language and engage complex thinking problems. Deep reading requires us to go back a few pages to make certain we understand. Deep reading allows for more effective communication when we leave the conceptual world of paper and ink, and return to the world of corporeal flesh and blood.
With that framework, it is our duty to celebrate authors whose words are transcendent. Octavia Butler is one such author. Butler was a powerful voice in the science fiction genre, although she did not consider herself a science-fiction writer. Like her characters, Octavia Butler did not succumb to limitations; indeed, she strove to break barriers of caste, race, and sex by behaving as though there were no barriers. Thus, she was able to continually redefine herself and her craft, and embody the beauty of life with grace and integrity. Highly respected and widely acclaimed, Octavia Butler was prolific and her stories transport readers into other realms.
Parable of the Sower is one particularly relevant work which presents a dystopian future that is almost prophetic—the whisperings of which we are already witnessing. Set in the not-so-distant crumbling society of Los Angeles, plagued by drugs, war, and water shortages one girl balks at the face of catastrophe and fear, and musters an inner strength to start anew. Lauren Olamina suffers injustices unimaginable, yet never does she succumb to victimhood. Instead she fights through each trial, always on guard for the next impending disaster.
Butler’s facility with words launches the reader into Lauren’s reality. In her world, “[people] have no power to improve their lives, but they have power to make others miserable,” and they employ this power. Mercilessly.
Through the experience of immersive reading and by projecting ourselves into another world, perhaps we might begin to place value on the story of “others” and think critically about identifying the common humanity existing within us all. Perhaps through literature, we may avert the impending catastrophe of vicious and violent tribalism that threatens to erode our capacity for intellectual honesty and compassion. Perhaps deep reading can help us reject the manufactured schisms of a zero-sum culture and assist us in reconciling the contradictions of life in pursuit of the Truth.