To Be Literate

I was never an enthusiastic reader as a child. I didn't actually commit to learning to read until late in my childhood and even then it was a difficult task for any adult to convince me that reading would in some way benefit me in the immediate future.

This was so true, in fact, that when I was reading my way through nine child-sized novels for a literacy award program where there were medals at stake, my father tested my knowledge of my books to ensure that I had actually read them and was not lying in order to achieve a medal. (To his credit, I could be a manipulative little liar, and I do so like medals.) However, to my credit, I had read them all and very easily explained who the B.F.G. was and why the little girl was not afraid of him.

It was also such a strong truth that when my elder sister was angry with me once and ripped my favorite book in half (and, at that point in time, the ONLY book that I had ever read for my own edification) my father took her to the book store that very moment and made her spend her own money to buy me a new copy.

I do not mean to drag any family members through the mud, but I couldn't think of a better way to preface what I am about to say, and I think it is important that you understand where I am coming from before I begin.

A couple of days ago I gave one of my best friends the novel "Ender's Game" for his birthday. We went to lunch with some friends and I presented him the novel and, much to my surprise, we were scoffed at because the novel itself is labeled as Science Fiction.

I do not understand.

When I went home and told my husband that we had been chided about Star Trek and other campy examples of "Sci Fi" as a response to the gift, he said, "Well, yeah." What? I don't understand what the genre of a novel has to do with the content of that novel. I don't understand why I am labeled "geek" or "nerd" because I have read and emotionally responded to a beautiful, tragic, overpowering, influential story. Who cares if it is sci-fi? Are the novels of Asimov and Bradbury to be scoffed? Heinlein? Is the genius of invention so easily betrayed with labels and stigma?

I do not understand anyone who would limit themselves from experiencing something wonderful. It took me so long to understand that reading was its own reward, that it pains me to see this type of open ignorance in my peers, in people that I respect and even cherish as friends. Then again, I don't understand people who don't want to travel the world, or try new foods, or open their minds to new religions or philosophies. But I digress.

Do you know what my favorite novels are? Ender's Game, labeled science fiction; Watership Down, labeled analogy; The Life of Pi, labeled fiction; The Great Gatsby, labeled Classic; Stranger in a Strange Land, labeled science fiction; The Education of Little Tree, labeled autobiography (which, by the way, was recommended to me by the friend that I gave Ender's Game to, so I know he has taste).

What do these have in common? They are stories that are well written. They have heart and spirit and, without fail, speak about the human condition, speak truthfully about the best and worst aspects of humanity, and undoubtedly unlock our own perceptions of ourselves, those things that we cherish and despise in our own reflections. The vessel that is used to convey that message is the only thing that varies. And, let's be honest, what good is a message if it doesn't come to you as something that you can sink your teeth into. Something that you can give yourself over to, if only for the time being, and truly see something from a new perspective. And, if you are really lucky, and the author truly gifted, perhaps you will be able to see yourself from a new perspective.

So, to those who would pigeonhole me, let me say this. I am not a geek. I am not a nerd. I am not a historian or a classic literature snob. I am not a fantasy freak nor do I speak Klingon.

But I am, undoubtedly and without remorse, literate.