Who Chooses Whom? The Book Buyer’s Conundrum
Photo: Karan Madhok
Does the reader choose their book? Or the book its reader? Satyarth Pandita explores this grand moment of literary connection and resonance.
“When chance, fate, and time meet in a favourable constellation, their point of intersection shall fall on that book and, like a sunbeam, illuminate it ‘with a great light’ and save it from oblivion.” ―Danilo Kis, The Book of Kings and Fools (The Encyclopedia of the Dead)
The act of buying a book holds a special significance for readers, akin to a priest thoughtfully gathering fresh, fragrant flowers for morning prayers. However, unlike the straightforward nature of flower collection, the process of book-buying introduces a perplexing dilemma, giving rise to an intriguing question: Who chooses whom? Is it the reader who selects the book, or is it the book that chooses its reader?
The answer to this question is not as straightforward as it may seem, as there are various factors at play in the process of selection.
To explore this conundrum further, let us delve into the world of bookshops and book markets. In India, books can be found in a multitude of physical spaces: in the streets, in halls, on footpaths, at traffic signals, inside open shops, outside closed shops, at railway platforms, at airports, along the stairs, beside a wall, on a cart, in a van or on rowing boats, each arranged in a manner to attract the gaze of potential readers. In his work “Species of Spaces and Other Pieces,” Georges Perec writes: “We use our eyes for seeing. Our gaze travels through space and gives us the illusion of relief and distance. That is how we construct space… Space is what arrests our gaze, what our sight stumbles over.” Perec suggests that space arrests our gaze, and in the context of books, it is space that captures our attention. Booksellers in these markets employ diverse methods to sell their books, ranging from selling them by weight to offering them at fixed prices or in cardboard boxes. It is within this environment that the question of book selection arises.
Publishers meticulously curate book covers, font styles, and blurbs to evoke sensory and emotional responses from potential readers. The cover art may hold different meanings for each person, depending on their associations and knowledge of the art world. The memories and experiences of the reader are invoked, creating a synergy between the book and the reader.
Imagine a fictionalized scenario: At a local book market, we witness two individuals vying for the same book. One claims to have chosen the book first, while the other argues that the book has chosen him. At first glance, it may seem that the reader exercises their agency and chooses the book based on their preferences, interests, or prior experiences. Our visual system plays a significant role in this process, guiding our gaze and object recognition. Our past experiences, wired into our neural circuits, may subconsciously compel us to select certain books. A familiar scent, an association with a childhood memory, or even a recent intriguing discovery can influence our book choices. Additionally, book covers, titles, and authors may attract our attention, inciting us to explore further.
However, the publishing industry also plays a pivotal role in influencing our book selections. Publishers meticulously curate book covers, font styles, and blurbs to evoke sensory and emotional responses from potential readers. The cover art, whether a photograph or a painting, may hold different meanings for each person, depending on their associations and knowledge of the art world. The memories and experiences of the reader are invoked, creating a synergy between the book and the reader.
When asked about her book selection process, Pradeepika Saraswat, a friend and founder of a recently-opened bistro and bookstore in Dehradun, replied, “The process of choosing books has evolved for me over the years. Beginning my reading journey at the age of 7-8, I eagerly embraced a wide range of genres with no discrimination—comics, children's magazines, and even classics like Premchand borrowed from my father’s bookshelf. At 10, during my time in a boarding school, I tackled every available book in the school library, often starting with the thickest ones, which became my initial criterion for selection. Even as a child, I found myself drawn to serious and profound titles, although the reasons elude me.”
“Around the age of 19,” Saraswat added “my approach shifted towards exploring authors. I’d delve into an author’s works, and if captivated, I’d eagerly read anything by them. Prefaces of the books often served as gateways to discovering new authors, creating a chain reaction of literary exploration. Recently, I've noticed in me a tendency to remain in a particular literary zone for extended periods. For instance, when engrossed in Kundera, I seek out similar styles from other authors, following the breadcrumb trail he leaves in his references. If immersed in Dostoevsky, my reading expands to encompass more Russian literature, aiming to construct a broader understanding of the Russian soul.”
In the realm of book enthusiasts, the act of choosing a new read is often a deeply personal and nuanced journey. Pratush Koul―a dear friend, writer, and avid reader with a penchant for literature related to Kashmir and a keen interest in art—sheds light on the intricate psychology behind his book-buying decisions. “I have read a lot on Kashmir, so whenever a new book comes out, it becomes an impulsive move to get it. I get attracted to any book with a title like ‘Culture and Heritage of J&K’ as I desire to find something that I don't know yet. Some anecdotes, some new findings etc. I also have an interest in art, so when I first saw Pran Nath Mago’s Contemporary Art in India or Rattan Parimoo’s Life of Buddha in Indian Sculptures, I knew they were calling me.”
“Serendipity plays its part, too, with chance encounters in cafes and hostels during my travels. In moments of emotional resonance, I might stumble upon a title that mirrors my feelings or situation, prompting me to pick up the book and read through the night.”
Italo Calvino’s If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler provides further insights into the book-buying conundrum. Calvino describes the reader's journey through a bookstore, ultimately choosing his book based on prior familiarity with the author and the anticipation of a new publication. The reader’s preconceived notion shapes his decision, guided by his horizon of expectation. In this way, the reader actively chooses the book.
So, then, you noticed in a newspaper that If on a winter’s night a traveler had appeared, the new book by Italo Calvino, who hadn’t published for several years. You went to the bookshop and bought the volume. In the shop window, you have promptly identified the cover with the title you were looking for. Following this visual trail, you have forced your way through the shop past the thick barricade of Books You Haven’t Read, which were frowning at you from the tables and shelves, trying to cow you… You cast another bewildered look at the books around you (or, rather: it was the books that looked at you, with the bewildered gaze of dogs who, from their cages in the city pound, see a former companion go off on the leash of his master, come to rescue him), and out you went.
However, another perspective emerges, suggesting that it is the book that, ultimately, chooses its reader. Elif Shafak, in the foreword to The Quarter, recounts an experience with a bookshop owner who quizzed customers about literary, historical, scientific, or philosophical matters and refused to sell books to those who failed his tests. The bookshop owner acted as a mediator, ensuring that the right book found its intended reader. Just as a book may lay untouched on a reader’s shelf for years until the right moment arrives, there is a certain call of the book that draws readers to it. Some readers believe that books have a kind of serendipitous quality and that the books they are meant to read will come to them at the right time.
Saraswat, expanding on this perspective says, “Then there are the books that seem to choose me. Siddhartha Gigoo [an author and filmmaker], a significant influence on me, often sends books, turning each one into a must-read. Serendipity plays its part, too, with chance encounters in cafes and hostels during my travels. In moments of emotional resonance, I might stumble upon a title that mirrors my feelings or situation, prompting me to pick up the book and read through the night.”
“I believe that for that [books choosing readers] to happen, the book’s title and the cover should strike a chord with the buyer’s inner consciousness,” says Koul. “It happened to me when I was in my first year of college. Coming to a different demographic made me even more isolated than ever. I went around alone most of the time. It was during that time that I came across Quiet by Susan Cain. It was a book about introverts, and the cover was all white with the word ‘Quiet’ having a light gloss. It felt like the book was calling me, and I got it. I read it in a week... I strongly believe that my mental state at that time enabled the book to ‘choose’ me. Another incident also happened during college when I was feeling homesick; being eight months without seeing home really had me in a bitter position. At times, I would stare at the ceiling for a long time with nothing but a buzz in my head. During those days, to cheer me, a junior took me to the Delhi book fair and there I found Hymns for the Drowning, a translated work of the Tamilian saint-poet Nammalvar. I had no understanding of South India or its culture, nor had I met anyone from there, but the image of lord Vishnu on the cover page was very soothing and once I started reading some of the couplets I was transfixed. The lines comforted me, and the poems stuck in my heart. I always keep that book with me whenever I need faith in life.”
In this manner, it could be argued that the books are choosing their readers, in a sense, by appearing in their lives at just the right moment. This may be particularly true for books that have a profound impact on the reader, or that inspire a deep connection or sense of resonance.
Considering these various viewpoints, it becomes evident that the relationship between readers and books is complex and multifaceted. Both the reader and the book play active roles in the selection process. Readers bring their preferences, experiences, interests, emotions, and conscious decision-making to the table. Simultaneously, books exert their influence through covers, titles, authors, and the intrinsic power of their narratives. Books have the potential to surprise, captivate, and find their way into the hands of readers when they are most needed.
Another interesting aspect to take into consideration is that of the Libet Paradigm or the Libet Experiment. Around the year the 1970s and 1980s, Benjamin Libet performed a series of experiments which assessed brain activity in study participants who were asked to perform a specific task. These experiments were designed to explore the timing of conscious awareness and decision-making in relation to neural activity.
In the experiment, he showed that 0.5-1.5 seconds before a person’s conscious awareness of the act/intention to perform a movement, subjects emit EEG activity that predicts this movement.
These findings raised significant questions about the nature of free will and conscious decision-making. The Libet Paradigm sparked debates and discussions about whether conscious decisions are truly volitional or whether they are predetermined by unconscious neural processes.
Some neuroscientists put it like this that we, humans do not essentially make our decisions but that our subconscious does and hence negating the notion of free will. Then, again, one is tempted to ask if it truly is the reader making the conscious choice?
Ultimately, the question of who chooses whom remains subjective. Some may believe that books choose their readers, while others emphasize the agency of the reader. The debate surrounding this question mirrors the “Borgesian conundrum,” first presented in the short story “Borges and I”, which explores whether the writer writes the story or the story writes the writer. It is a question that may never be definitively answered, as the relationship between books and readers transcends simple categorization.
The other one, the one called Borges, is the one things happen to. I walk through the streets of Buenos Aires and stop for a moment, perhaps mechanically now, to look at the arch of an entrance hall and the grillwork on the gate; I know of Borges from the mail and see his name on a list of professors or in a biographical dictionary… Years ago I tried to free myself from him and went from the mythologies of the suburbs to the games with time and infinity, but those games belong to Borges now and I shall have to imagine other things. Thus my life is a flight and I lose everything and everything belongs to oblivion, or to him. I do not know which of us has written this page.
It is a complex interplay of various factors, including personal preferences, social influence, evolving tastes, marketing strategies, and emotional responses. The relationship between readers and books is a dynamic and nuanced one, where both parties contribute to the ultimate choice.
Whoever does the ‘choosing’, the encounter between the book and reader is a moment of connection and resonance. Books have the power to shape our thinking, influence our emotions, and transform our understanding of the world. They invite us on journeys of imagination, knowledge, and self-discovery. In the vast landscape of literature, the choices we make and the books we encounter shape our lives in profound and unexpected ways.
Returning to our imagined incident at the local book market, where the two individuals argued over the possession of the same book, now imagine that that neither of them could acquire it. The book had already been paid for by someone else! Nevertheless, the incident reaffirms the allure of book selection and the enchantment that lies within the pages of a chosen book.
As readers, we are continually presented with a vast array of books, each beckoning us to explore its contents. Whether we actively seek out books or stumble upon them by chance, the relationship between books and readers remains a magical and mysterious one. It is a dance between agency and chance as books and readers find their way to each other, creating moments of connection, enlightenment, and profound impact.
Sushant Dhar, who is a friend, reader, and writer, articulates his perspective on the book-buying process as follows: “Journeying through books, you choose books, and thereafter the book chooses you. The book covers, blurbs, cover art, intriguing details about the author, our own personal choices, the genre we like, our inner calling, our way of looking at the world, our struggle and labour through time and space, all of it influences our choice of books. The tragedies we’ve endured also shape it. An exile searches for themes of displacement, memory, longing, and loss of home, turns onto philosophical work, exploring the human condition, some ailment, questioning the meaning of life and the absurdity around it. That’s how I came across Thomas Mann’s The Magic Mountain, a journey of self-discovery, an odyssey through life, disease and death. Our inner struggles/crises shape our interest in different themes of life philosophy. And this is the ever-changing process, always in flux, drifting through years. A decade back, I was into Camus, Dostoevsky, Gogol, Hesse, Pessoa, and Schophaneour, then hopped onto Greek philosophy, reading all of Kazantzakis’ works, then to Indic philosophy; finding refuge in Ashtavakra Gita, Upanishads, Bhagavad Gita, ashram journals, Raja Rao’s books, leafing through each and every page of Serpent and the rope. Borges’ work, took, me to a different realm of story writing. I related to every piece written by him, spending an entire year to read and collect all his work. The journey of reading and writing must continue.”
In the end, the question of who chooses whom in the book-buying conundrum may not have a definitive answer. It is a complex interplay of various factors, including personal preferences, social influence, evolving tastes, marketing strategies, and emotional responses. The relationship between readers and books is a dynamic and nuanced one, where both parties contribute to the ultimate choice. Whether it is the reader who actively selects a book or the book that finds its way into the reader’s life, the magic of the reading experience lies in the connection forged between the two.
In a lecture, Jorge Luis Borges quoted Bishop Berkeley and stated, “The taste of the apple does not reside in the mouth of the eater―neither is it in the apple itself. It requires the exchange between them.” Perhaps it’s this combination of fate and intention that makes the experience of choosing a book so magical and mysterious.
Who knows what wonders may await us once we turn those first few pages, as eloquently conveyed by the opening line in Orhan Pamuk’s The New Life: “I read a book one day, and my whole life was changed.”
***
Satyarth Pandita is a Junior Research Fellow at the National Institute of Mental Health and Neuro Sciences, Bengaluru. He completed his dual degree of Bachelor of Science and Master of Science in Biological Sciences (major) and Humanities and Social Sciences (minor) from the Indian Institute of Science Education and Research Bhopal (IISERB). His works have appeared in various newspapers and periodicals, including The Quint, Outlook India, Madras Courier, and Kitaab, among others. You can find him on Twitter: @SatyarthPandita and Instagram: @satyarthpandita.
