> Is the compulsion to reread a regression to this infantile state? A denial of maturation? Margaret Atwood suggests that it might be when she compares it to “thumb-sucking” and “hot-water bottles”; she admits that she does rereads only for “comfort, familiarity, the recurrence of the expected.” This also might be the reason why so much rereading apologia is written by those for whom the glow of youth has long passed by
I think about how our society, or at least our economy, appears to possess an endless appetite for series, sequels, prequels, remakes, reboots, adaptations, and spin-offs, ad naseam. For some strange reason, in middle age, the pop culture of my youth has come to be fetishized by the present, even long after I've personally lost interest. I grew up, matured, but it can feel like nobody else did. I enjoy finding new work, novel novels, as it were, and usually eschew rereading. There's so much to discover, so why limit yourself to what you already happened to know at a much earlier point? Sometimes when I do revisit something I enjoyed in the past, I find that it doesn't hold up. I may have originally overlooked certain flaws or other problematic aspects of the work that are apparent to me now. One's sensibilities can change and evolve.
Even speaking academically, some of the most important, influential articles and books I've ever read, that turned my head around, were ones that I've read only once. They affected me so profoundly that I didn't need to reread them.
And other works by Adorno, such as Minima Moralia. It comes from Benjamin, of course, but Benjamin's conception is more complex and Adorno serves as a better introduction.
> Is the compulsion to reread a regression to this infantile state? A denial of maturation? Margaret Atwood suggests that it might be when she compares it to “thumb-sucking” and “hot-water bottles”; she admits that she does rereads only for “comfort, familiarity, the recurrence of the expected.” This also might be the reason why so much rereading apologia is written by those for whom the glow of youth has long passed by
I think about how our society, or at least our economy, appears to possess an endless appetite for series, sequels, prequels, remakes, reboots, adaptations, and spin-offs, ad naseam. For some strange reason, in middle age, the pop culture of my youth has come to be fetishized by the present, even long after I've personally lost interest. I grew up, matured, but it can feel like nobody else did. I enjoy finding new work, novel novels, as it were, and usually eschew rereading. There's so much to discover, so why limit yourself to what you already happened to know at a much earlier point? Sometimes when I do revisit something I enjoyed in the past, I find that it doesn't hold up. I may have originally overlooked certain flaws or other problematic aspects of the work that are apparent to me now. One's sensibilities can change and evolve.
Even speaking academically, some of the most important, influential articles and books I've ever read, that turned my head around, were ones that I've read only once. They affected me so profoundly that I didn't need to reread them.