How to Read a Book: The Classic Guide to Intelligent Reading
This is a classic instruction manual that does what it says on the cover – it explains the different ways one might read a book.
Specifically, there are four levels:
Elementary Reading
Inspectional Reading (divided into Skimming or Prereading, and Superficial Reading)
Analytical Reading
Synoptical Reading
An interesting thing happens between #3 and #4 – control of the subject transfers to the reader. In #3, the author is pushing information at the reader, who is absorbing it. With #4, the reader is educated enough to know what they want, and they are pulling it from the author.
Along the way there are rules:
You must know what kind of book you are reading, and you should know this as early in the process as possible, preferably before you begin to read
State the unity of the whole book in a single sentence, or at most a few sentences (a short paragraph)
Set forth the major parts of the book, and show how these are organized into a whole, by being ordered to one another and the unity of the whole
Find out what the author’s problems were
Find the important words and through them come to terms with the author
Mark the most important sentences in a book and discover the propositions they contain
Locate or construct the basic arguments in the book by finding them in the connection of sentences
Find out what the author’s solutions are
You must be able to say, with reasonable certainty, “I understand,” before you can say any one of the following things: “I agree” or “I disagree” or “I suspend judgment.”
When you disagree, do so reasonably, and disputatiously, or contentiously
Respect the difference between knowledge and mere personal opinion by giving reasons for any critical judgment you make
Clearly, this is not for the faint of heart, and you’d go mildly insanely trying to apply this to every body.
Another important point, using these rules implies that you trust the author wrote well. Some books are just…not good. They’re written poorly, and any attempt to read them well will likely fail. I can remember some books that would have defied any attempt to apply the above rules to them.
What are my takeaways from this? I don’t know, it’s hard – there’s a lot to remember, and I don’t know that I want to commit to this formal of an investigation or analysis of every book I read.
One thing that did resonate was the idea of “pre-reading” (Rule #1, above). Before you really start reading a book, skim it – read the cover, the acknowledgments, the table of contents, all the chapter heads, etc. Essentially, try to mentally encapsulate the book before starting it, in an attempt to be primed to absorb it better.
There’s also some argument for skimming to be an end in itself. You might skim a book, get the gist of it, and decide you don’t need to actually read it. This is hard for me, because I tend to be obsessive, but it would have enormous value in terms of volume intake.
This is a good book, no doubt. It’s a classic book, but I think it needs to be selectively applied to books into which you’re willing to invest considerable time and emotional energy.
Reread
Added on
I re-read this as a friend was reading it for the first time. We talked about it quite a bit.
I was thinking, “I missed so much the first time…”, but in looking at my notes above, I really didn’t. The book is big on lists – the two I have quoted above are really the big ones.
What I’ll do here then is quote some of the texts I exchanged with my friend while we were reading it together.
My thoughts on chapter 1.
I forgot how long ago this book was written. The writing is a bit turgid.
But, the gist of Chapter 1 is that “looking at the words” and “getting the gist” are two different things.
I always ask myself, “What is the point of this book? Why did someone write it? What does the author want from me?”
Do they want…
…to tell me about something important to them? (like a book about history, for example)
…to convince me of their point-of-view? (a political polemic)
…to teach me a life skill? (like the book we’re reading)
…to entertain me? (some celebrity bio or humor book)
To me, that’s key whenever you start a book. What is the point of the book? How am I supposed to be changed after this?
Some books are weighty. You know going in that it’s gonna take some work to figure them out. (I’m currently reading Michael Polanyi’s “The Tacit Dimension” for the fourth time…)
Other books are fun and relaxed. You can be more passive and just kind of give in to the pleasure of it all. (I’m reading a novel about 1933 Germany right now, at the recommendation of Seth Gottlieb. It’s a weighty topic, but it’s otherwise kind of like watching a movie.)
Not every book is the same. But I always try to figure out: what is the point of THIS book?
Then I got discussing with my friend about how some books are good and others aren’t. Just being published doesn’t mean you have anything good to say, and there’s freedom in being willing and able to say that a book sucked.
I want to make the point here that THE BOOK HAS TO HELP [YOU UNDERSTAND THE TOPIC]. By that I mean that sometimes it’s not that you’re a crappy reader, it’s that you’re reading a crappy book. I feel like this [book] puts too much responsibility on the reader. Sometimes the book just sucks.
Regarding the four levels of reading (quoted above):
I have some issues with his “four levels.”
#1 isn’t really a level. This is just basically, “Can you read at all?” No educated adult is at this level.
And #4 isn’t really a level of READING – it’s more a level of THE ENTIRE STUDY OF A TOPIC. The point he makes about #4 is that you read a lot of different books about a topic, and then your mind enables you to “fill in the gaps” between the books to create a broader depth of knowledge about the entire TOPIC.
In the end, you (and most all people) are just striving to go from #2 to #3. There are likely topics that you’re at #4 already – DXP or digital marketing or something.
So, I feel like the levels are a little… padded. You want to go from #2 to #3. I don’t think it’s more complicated than that.
We talked a little about “pre-reading” or what the book calls “inspectional reading.”
I liked the chapter on “Inspectional Reading.” I really like the idea of “pre-reading.” I do this often. I ask myself, “How much can I absorb from this book without actually reading any of it?” I’ll spend five minutes consuming every “around” the book – the front and back covered, the leafs, the table of contents, the index (look for terms with LOTS of references), and chapter headings, etc. I do this before I start a book. It really helps to know where a book is going.
Someone told me once that getting a PhD will redefine “reading” for you. Apparently you get assigned SO much that you literally cannot read it all, so you have to learn to understand things without actually reading them. You have to learn to cut away all the fat of a book, and get to the core of it, so you can move on.
I also mentioned that it’s helpful to figure out what you want from a book before you start reading it. This primes you to frame the book in the right way, but also lets you relax if it’s a book you’re not reading for understanding.
I had a thought over the weekend: one of the key ways to remember more from what you read and enjoy reading more is to very clearly decide what books are worth remembering. Some books just aren’t worth it. Some books can be read just for pleasure, and other books are just not that great. There are precious few books that are worth the trouble to truly absorb (level 3, as the author frames it). It’s fine to decide that a book is just okay and can be superficially read, just for fun. The real key is to be able to sense – when reading a truly great book – that something has earned your attention, and is worth the time of a deeper read or even a second, third, or fourth read.
Then I started expanding from reading to pedagogy in general.
This is all got me thinking about the basic nature of learning and “taking advice.” When you hear a lesson – a great piece of advice – either in a book or somewhere else, what’s the key to retaining that and applying it? I think this extends far beyond reading. Getting “better” at reading can only help you identify and retain the knowledge. Have humans cracked the code for reliably putting knowledge to use?
So, the key problem you – and almost everyone else in the world – is experiencing isn’t so much a reading/comprehension/retention problem, it’s a problem of initiative and application. How do you figure out what lessons apply and are realistic to your situation, and develop the habit of putting them to use?
I compared my experiences reading two very different books and how I wanted very different things from them.
So here’s a perfect example of a point I’ve realized –
Here are two books. I am reading them for totally different reasons.
I very much want to learn from Uncomfortable Conversations with a Jew. I’ve always been fascinated by Jewish culture and the Jewish experience. I think there are terrifying similarities between the run-up to the Holocaust and what we’re seeing now. And I’m particularly interested in the various sources of Jewish stereotypes (the hooked nose, the greedy banker, etc.).
So, I have now read this book twice – the second time with a highlighter. And I’m going back through my highlights and taking some notes. I want to absorb this book. I want to become a better person for having read it.
None of that is true for End Times: A Brief Guide to the End of the World. This book is mindless(-ish) entertainment. It’s… interesting, and I bought it because it looked interesting. I’m not going to learn anything practical from it (“Thank goodness I know how to divert an asteroid now!”).
It’s not a bad book. I’m enjoying reading it. I have learned a couple things from it (a supervolcano eruption is more likely to end the world than an asteroid), but I skipped the last half of one chapter because it got boring. I’m not highlighting anything. I’m not taking notes. I won’t read it again.
And that’s okay. That’s not what I want the book for.
And that’s the trick: know what you want from a book before you go into it. If you want to learn from it, you’ll learn more. If you just want to enjoy it, you’ll enjoy it more.
More opinining about the book’s four questions:
In chapter 4, find a section called “The Essence of Active Reading: The Four Basic Questions a Reader Asks.” These are good questions – they’re worth reading again.
But I wouldn’t worry so much about question #2 until you decide what we talked about above: do I care about this book?
Remember, the first step to reading better is figuring out if a book is (1) worth your time, and (2) is something you want to learn from and retain. I would say a minority of those books fulfill those two requirements.
And I would add a question #5: is this book something that should proactively change me in some way? Sometimes (often?) the answer is “no.” The book was just something you enjoyed and might gain some background knowledge and perspective from. Other books are so critical that you should proactively try to put the lessons to use.
And again we come to the point that “reading” at the level you’re searching for is more about learning and initiative than it is about looking at words.
Is AI going to change how we understand books?
Is the point of reading a book to (1) look at every word, or (2) understand the point of the book (alternately: fulfill our personal “goal” for the book).
I’m reading The Last Intellectuals: American Culture In The Age Of Academe. Is the point to literally look at every word the author has written, or the point to (1) understand what he’s saying, and (2) figure out how it can apply to me (or improve me) personally?
If we go to an in-person lecture, I don’t think we think, “I have to listen to every word in a linear fashion.” That’s not the point. The point is to understand what the speaker is saying.
But with books, we fall into “the linear trap,” where we think, “I have to look at all the words, in the correct order.” Full stop. That becomes our goal, rather than understand the gestalt of the book is trying to say.
AI will change how we read, I think. With AI, things are way less linear. You can ask questions, ask for different analogies, ask to relate concepts to other things, etc.
I’m wondering if the age of “linear reading” might be waning.
I loved the concept of the “unity” of a book.
I enjoyed chapter 7. I like the idea of the “unity” of a book. It kinda boils down to a question: “Why did the author write this book?” That ranks up there with the question, “Why am I reading this book?”
It also got me wondering, if you can state the “unity” of a book, and “outline the multiplicity” of a book… then what purpose does the actual book serve? If you understand the gist of a book… do you need to read it?
You know those book summarization services? Or even ChatGPT’s summarization. Let’s say you completely absorb one of those – the “skeleton” of the book. How does consuming the “flesh” of the book actually help you?
More on the idea of AI and discussion.
The “Aids to Reading” chapter omits something important: discussion – like, what we’re doing right now. I have gotten 10x as much out of this book this time around because you and I are talking about it. You don’t understand a concept nearly as well if you don’t talk to someone else about it. Our conversation around this book has forced me to think about it in new ways, and formulate comments and arguments about it. It’s been amazing.
On that same note: AI is a great discussion partner, especially about historic books for which a lot has been written. I’m reading Wuthering Heights right now, and having great discussions with AI about it. I can tell it, “I’m on chapter 7, do NOT reveal any spoilers.” It’s incredible for understanding.
And that last point is important: you should discuss good books. Read them in a group if you can.
Let’s face it, my second reading of this book was dramatically different because I was discussing it with a friend. I was better at critiquing the text, and I made more conceptual leaps about it.
The conversational aspect of AI has been amazing for me, in terms of discussing books. I’ll often ask AI questions like this:
- What is the central thesis of the book?
- Give me a 1-2 sentence summary of each chapter
- What terms were defined by the book?
- How was the book received when it was published?
- Did the book generate any controversies?
And this is not in place of reading the book. I’ll still read the entire thing, this just helps me understand it more.
Now, talking to AI is fun, but it’s not the same as talking to another human because there’s no didactic component to it. When I was discussing the book with my friend, I wanted to persuade him of something. I wanted to make a point to a fellow human, reinforce it, prove it, and bring him around to my way of thinking. You’ll never get this from AI.
Additionally, some of the mental leaps I made were in response to things he said that I didn’t think were quite correct. I felt like he misinterpreted some of the book, so we had a dialectical conversation about it. Again, not what you’re going to get from AI.
So, my second reading of the book was more a catalyst for discussing, reflection, and debate, than it was a rote reading of the text. That, to me, was vastly more important than what I actually read in the text.
Book Data
- Author
- Mortimer J. Adler
- Year
- Pages
- 426
- Acquired
- Not recorded
- Open Library
- OL487444W
- Wikipedia
- How_to_Read_a_Book
- I have read this book. According to my records, I completed it on .
- A hardcover copy of this book is currently in my home library.