The performance of reading: can we judge a person by their books?

At my local bookshop there is an eccentric employee who chats to everyone. After time spent carefully perusing the shelves looking for the books that appeal to us, we join the queue where he waits. Me and my mum exchange a look, bracing ourselves for the condescending comments that always ensue, where he judges us for the novels we choose to buy. However, these books are undoubtedly an extension of who we are as people and ultimately serve as sources of comfort for a hobby that is meant to be enjoyed. So, my question is, do the books people choose to read justify judging who they are?

While a book’s primary function is to serve as an object of knowledge or a source of fictional storytelling, in recent years it has become so much more. Perfectly organised bookshelf displays with trinkets, candles and fake plants interwoven throughout tell the story of an individual who takes pride in their books. Annotating books has become an increasingly used art form, serving as a beautiful expression of our inner thoughts and feelings. The simple act of recommending books to friends and family showcases the emotional attachments we form with these stories. Books are no longer objects that we read; they have become an important part of how we express who we are.

If a man reads Dostoevsky on the bus he is deemed performative

However, books have also come to serve as an easy source of judgement. The rise of social media has undeniably played a large role in shaping these newfound attitudes. If a man reads Dostoevsky on the bus, he is deemed performative. But what if he genuinely just enjoys some classic Russian literature? What if someone is reading a self-help book because they genuinely need help and don’t know what else to do?

When I take a trip to Waterstones and head to the history section, I feel performative in my actions… and I study the subject! Why should purchasing a new history book for my essay feel like a performance? This rising sense of performativity reflects the pressure placed on books to say something about who we are as people, despite their primary purpose being to provide enjoyment. As a result, our reading choices become vulnerable to criticism, online and in person.

Books people display aren’t necessarily an honest representation of who they are

This raises the question, why do we choose to hide certain books? Unfortunately, it primarily boils down to our awareness that other people might judge us based on them. If books are used to construct our identities, there will always be other people around to critique our identities through those books. In turn, we fall into the trap of displaying the books that people will see, and hiding the novels that we may get judged for reading. I work in libraries, so I know first-hand what books people enjoy, the ones they read because the internet told them to, and the ones they are often too embarrassed to ask for.

So, the books people display aren’t necessarily an honest representation of who they are, having been deliberately curated to construct an idealised version of themselves or one that social media has deemed desirable. They may tell us about someone’s interests, imagination and values, but it certainly does not mean the individual believes in what they have read, nor does it mean that the ideas within the book represent their own beliefs or character. Someone might have books you personally dislike but still be the kindest person you have ever met. Perhaps the most important thing is to understand why people choose the books they read, what they gleaned from them, and how they may have changed them, rather than immediately criticising and judging the individual for what they have read.