Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-06-07

The old fiction about Eight Summer
reading" has gone the way of many
other exploded fallacies.
Today people read what they please,
when they please, and the only question
is, Why not?
The curious belief that there is any
real relation between the weather and
different types of books is held only
by a few now, perhaps the same people
who believe that lack of window cur
tains makes a house cooler" in the
hot weather.
Away back in the '9os-and how far
back it seems Tight Summer reading
meant such books as THE Lightning
Conductor" by the Castles.
Romance. and plenty of it, spread on
with scintillating pen. 1t was the
forerunner of many, many bright,
breezy books, such as The Man in the
Green Hat" and so on. All of these.
however, are published at any time OF
the year whatsoever.
The demand, even, for something
light" as If one actually did not have
enough breath to read by in warm
weather, has almost disappeared.
X y :; x
One reads anything he pleases during
Spring or Fall.
Now that the high vogue of the new
biography is quietly expiring, buried
under a mound of eXpenslve-too eX-
pensive-bookS, readers Of the Nation
have time to realize that there is no
season quite so good as the present.
In other words, if one has neglected
to read Gibbons Decline and Fail o.
the Roman Empire" having put 1t OIL
for half a lifetime perhaps. this Jolly
Summer of 1880 will do as well as any
better than any, indeed,
Now is the time to brush up on one S
reading.
There is no questioning the fact that
the many activities of the present day
tend to cut into the reading habltS OF
even the most active readers. For
there are active readers, lethargic, read
ers. demonstrating readers, all types
of, readers, each one of whom may
claim, and in all honesty, that he
loves to read"
Often however. he loves to read from
theoretical standpoint, rather than
from an actual one. His reading Is
Pickwickian. The muscles of his mind
grow weak. and, like an old beau try
ing to recall the amours OF his youth,
he fondly im9gines that he is the
reader he once was.
The only way 10 read Is 10 Tedu, JUST
as the only way to learn how to write
is to write. Pretending that one Is
reader may fool ones friends, but
there is no glory in decelvlng those
who are not interested.
We prefer those honest persons who
only look at pictures to those self-de-
ceiVers who are forever prating OF
books without ever reading any.
y X
The publishing world has come to an
interesting situation, with at least one
magazine selling at book prices, some
books selling at magazine prices, and
Sunday editions of the newspapers
issuing as much reading matter weekly
as several books would hold
The lines of demarcation between
books magazines and newspapers, once
clearly defined, are breaking down.
Writing is writing now, wherever you
find it, and is so recognized by the So
called general reader.
Even the old function of books, to
preserve the permanent" things in
writing, is tending to vanish, as sophiS-
tication and increased wealth have
tended toward the publication in beau
tiful bindings of essentially ephemeral,
and sometimes trashy, writings.
Yet at bottom the printed books
must remain the only way by which
the living generations of men may
transmit their thought, whether deep
or light, serious or imaginative, to the
generations yet to be. And this thought