I’m hoping I can attribute this to the latest lockdown but I just can’t read right now. Moving “seamlessly” between work, leisure, and nothing has left my attention span ragged. Right now, rather than being upset with my brain for not powering through the 8 books on my to-read list, I’m easing up and letting myself rest.
I did a poll on the Tote Bag Library Instagram account and it seems like I’m not alone.
Lockdown remedies are aplenty—I’ve been going on jogs voluntarily for the first time in my life, I’m still trying to meet friends as much as restrictions allow, and I’m throwing myself into new hobbies. I’ve recently taken to ice cream making. All these attempts at lockdown coping are taking me away from the written word. I wish I had a deeper understanding of why lockdown fatigue is so taxing on reading but I’m just not up to thinking right now!
What’s important is creating distance between my self-worth and my ability to read. Now that I write this newsletter, it’s tempting to make “reading books” a pillar of my personality. I want to be the person who’s caught up on all the new releases and who knows the classics and who can regale my reader with intertextual connections and fun facts about authors. But I started reading because I enjoyed it and there’s really no point in forcing the words down when it stops being fun.
Instead of puzzling over why I can’t read without the words swimming into soup, I’m giving my brain some small wins. Here’s what I’ve been consuming in the place of books.
I don’t watch any narrative television and so my reality TV calendar is split neatly into two seasons. Masterchef Australia just wrapped and we’re now into the University Challenge cycle of the year.
If you’re uninitiated, University Challenge is the stuffiest game show you imaginable. Teams are assembled from the UK’s universities and students compete to answer obscure questions like “Which English academic gives his name to a theory described as the study of ‘unavoidable regularity and large structures’?” and “In what Canadian province would one make landfall after sailing due west from St Ives in Cornwall?” On a good day, I manage to answer 30% of the questions asked. Every correct answer is a little ping of dopamine for me. Otherwise, I’m entertained for half an hour by learning trivia bits that will never again serve me.
Here’s the first episode of the season:
Quickly sliding down from highbrow television, I’ve also been watching a lot of First Dates. The premise is simple: hopeful singles write in to a TV show and hope to get matched with somebody compatible on a blind date. Drama-hungry audience members get to watch. What makes First Dates so entertaining, besides the obvious voyeurism factor, is that the producers genuinely attempt to match people well. Some couples have even gotten married off the show! I suspect that I’m also enjoying First Dates especially right now because I miss restaurants and a good 10% of the show is dedicated to contestants just … ordering food. What I would give…
Honestly though, I can’t watch a clip like this without grinning ear to ear. I’m a huge sap and I love love.
This essay from Sophie Lewis has been an interesting accompanying piece to my First Dates marathon. It took me a couple of tries but it’s one of the only full pieces I’ve managed to read recently.
The ideal woman in the field of dating is one who pretends she is not a prostitute. She is not-working and “all-giving” even when it comes to the bill after a dinner; perhaps, like Scarlett Johansson in Her, an Artificial Intelligence operative or machine-girlfriend who does not consciously labor, she just magics such inconveniences away without so much as a blink. This monstrous construction is part and parcel of the real elaboration and disciplining of a class of sub-womanly service-workers and surrogates who, like Elle, threaten to make the labor of love completely visible to men.
The essay tracks the “genealogy of the date” and situates dating within the historical context of gendered and racialised norms. It also references First Dates heavily. Lewis’ writing is pretty theoretical. The last book I was reading, before the big freeze, was her Full Surrogacy Now. It’s been shelved for the time being because it’s a little too academic for my baby brain at the moment.
Here’s a 2021 sentence for you: we’re currently experiencing a newsletter renaissance. I’ve linked to the Substack Reader page which is where Substack consolidates all your newsletter subscriptions. It’s been a godsend since I crossed the 30 subscriptions mark. Let me mention a few of my favourites.
Dirt is the publication I never knew I always wanted. It’s run by Kyle Chayka and Daisy Alioto, two of my favourite non-fiction writers. (Alioto’s essay What Is Lifestyle? is essential reading.) I’m perpetually online and Dirt provides some of the most incisive short writing about Internet phenomena and entertainment. Here’s a post I really enjoyed about Lorde’s “lobotomised pop”.
Everything is as it seems and everything is good. There is no darkness bubbling beneath the surface; furthermore, the artist is present in her own life, a participant and not an observer.
Hung Up is a newsletter about celebrities and the entertainment industry. I’m only subscribed to the free roundup for now and it’s the perfect amount of concise and hilarious.
Legally, I cannot recommend texting your ex. That’s God’s law, not man’s law. But I have to admit: it’s working out for Jennifer Lopez.
Unsnackable is a short and sweet (and salty) newsletter about cool snacks from around the world. When was the last time you left the country? That’s right, never. This is how I scratch my foreign convenience store itch.
I’m trying to ease back into reading by dipping my toes into short fiction. There’s a collection that I’m meant to review; you can expect to see it in one of the next newsletters. Otherwise, I’m just taking it easy. Are you also experiencing a reading block? Let me know what you’ve been consuming and if you’ve devised any strategies to get around it. Thankfully, Singapore has just announced that lockdown measures will be easing. I expect my brain to rehydrate soon, too. See you next time!