The reports of the death of reading appear to be greatly exaggerated (apologies here to Mark Twain). Shorter attention spans or not, many people insist they are reading more than ever. Or so suggests my admittedly unscientific poll — of readers.
Several years ago I combed my bookshelves and gave my teenage son some old paperbacks I thought he’d enjoy. Recently, while hunting for a book he asked me to send to him in college, I found the books neatly stacked next to his bed. I wondered if he had ever read any of them.
One he had probably not cracked open—or so I thought I had evidence to prove—was Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man. I figured this because when I myself opened the book, the pages started shedding.