Poetry Response:

A Study of Reading Habits

Philip Larkin
(1919-1985)

When getting my nose in a book
Cured most things short of school,
It was worth ruining my eyes
To know I could still keep cool,
And deal out the old right hook
To dirty dogs twice my size.

Later, with inch-thick specs,
Evil was just my lark:
Me and my cloak and fangs
Had ripping times in the dark
The women I clubbed with sex!
I broke them up like meringues.

Don’t read much now: the dude
Who lets the girl down before
The hero arrives, the chap
Who’s yellow and keeps the store,
Seem far too familiar. Get stewed:
Books are a load of crap.


I think that this poem is about somebody who reads a lot and then is disappointed when his life is nothing like what he reads in books. Though I can certainly understand the meaning of 'losing yourself in a good book', ie feeling like you are part of the story when you are reading something really interesting, I think that if you can't distinguish reality from fiction- ie expect your life to be like that in books (you really feel like you are (Dracula or Superman or Jack the ripper or whatever) then you have a problem. If you read books and expect yourself to become like the characters in them, that's not good, because obviously you won't be. Books are not 'a load of crap' just because the reader doesn't grow a pair of fangs and bite people. (This is also you won't turn into the personality as well).