How To Talk about Books You Haven’t Read is perhaps the best title of a book this decade. We’ve all been there—looking glassy-eyed like 50Cent and PDaddy at an opera. I had not read Catcher in the Rye until becoming a “Dr.” At first mention it sounded like an agrarian novel. However, I soon learned enough about the book's thesis and search for meaning to know that it was rather controversial. That fateful day when I finally read it (and such books should only take a day) my eyes were opened to the real world of Holden Caulfield and his miserable mental plight. Perhaps as important was to get to know the author, J.D. Salinger. Even though I finished the day disappointed, expecting much more and some sense of closure, and curious about its place in middle school curricula, I also gained an appreciation for the author’s genius. And in reading, and only in reading it, could I understand the underlying fascination with it among students. Misguided to be considered a required text, but a brilliant insight into the dreary fatalism that plagues so many. Reading, and only reading with a sense of sincerity, also brings to light the Harry Potter series, Tolkien’s works, the Chronicles of Narnia, and the long list of wonderful reads that enrich our lives. From Dr. Seuss’ The Snitches to Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s Gulag Archipelago, writers prompt us to think deeply about the human condition and how best to respond to its recurring shortcomings and blessings.

So what about this notion of talking about books you’ve not read—well, I’m sitting at Miami University’s King Library (Oxford, OH) ensconced by an expanse of books far beyond my reading limits. The new book has some clever and helpful advice but a sinister twist. Those of us in the academic professions and in professional setting need to stay appraised of new knowledge and should be reading literature reviews with regularity, such as Books & Culture, New York Times Review, Times Literary Supplement and so forth. We may be prompted to buy some of the books we read about, but mainly we’re just staying current with titles, authors, trends of thoughts and the key conclusions being espoused. How To Talk About Books You Haven’t Read basically says that’s enough—and we’re likely less biased by doing so. The author, Pierre Bayard, is a French literature professor of some renown, so readers without lobotomy scars should pick up a bit of overstatement and some sense of ingenuity or satire—he claims he doesn’t like ready or rarely reads. All said, it’s a wonderful read, provokes thought, brings several smiles, but leaves one perplexed with his rampant relativistic notions. My full review of this book goes into much more detail (pending publication at B&C), but suffice it to say that if a book can take on whatever meaning the reader intends, and not the author, then I’d be a bit leery of having brain surgery any time soon. If the surgeon heads towards my noggin with a gallon of ice cream and a sippy cup, I’ll be relatively certain that his relativistic reading of the med school texts were interpreted quite differently than the authors intended.

And if you read Bayard’s witty little book, besides violating its thesis by reading it, you’ll bristle at his notion that the main reason to stay current with your community’s “must read” book list is to be conversant at cocktail parties. That is, to avoid embarrassment. If that’s the case—as I reflect on my days in graduate school as one of the few non-imbibers—just arrive late to cocktail parties and you’ll hear some rather strange hops-induced theses from books you’re familiar with, or ones that likely nobody but you will remember in the morning anyway.

Well, you can’t judge a book by its cover, but contrary to Bayard’s anti-reading manifesto, I think there’s still quite a few that are still worthy of opening.