Weaning
I’m trying to wean myself off of murder mysteries. For years they’ve been at the heart of the bulk reading I use to cope with stress.
Photo: xxrobot
I started reading mysteries in graduate school. Mysteries stood outside the prescribed reading routine and were something I could enjoy without having to be too serious or analytical about the texts. Other popular genres didn’t appeal.
I’d had my fill of popular novels dominated by romance plots in my adolescence when I read my mother’s copies of Helen MacInnes, Jean Plaidy, Mary Renault, and others. Science fiction didn’t attract me strongly since the technology-dominated and hyper-masculine stories were off-putting.
I was too stubbornly interested in rationality and realistic plots to be able to suspend disbelief and enjoy fantasy novels. Mystery novels, though, suited me: mostly realistic, plot-driven, puzzle-based, and, if I chose carefully, strong female characters.
My pattern in television watching was much the same, with a larger dose of science fiction and fantasy given the company I keep. That started to shift earlier this year as we were getting ready to put the television away for several months. Often I’d catch myself noticing that I was only watching a murder mystery because I was bored.
A common enough experience but one day I stopped long enough in the noticing to ask myself what exactly was entertaining about watching fictions founded on watching someone’s pain. To relieve boredom I was treating cruelty and death and assault as a form of entertainment.
The television’s been packed away for many months now. Occasionally in a fit of frustration or boredom I’ll watch a crime show online but I’ve more or less eliminated the genre from my view. Reading material is a different matter and I’m making much slower progress there.
Last year’s reading total was made up of 18% mysteries. This year I’m looking at 21% so far. The reason’s not hard to discern: at the library my hand still goes to formulaic mystery novels. The branch I use has a large mystery collection, a good-sized romance collection, and a smaller collection of literary fiction: that’s what suits the majority of its users.
I’m not sure what I’ll shift to for light reading. Romance novels and plots still don’t interest me much. Not interested in adding more fear into my life with horror fiction. I’m more open to fantasy than I once was and I’m slowing reading through Terry Pratchett—slowly because I am going to run out soon. I’m not particularly drawn to vampire/werewolf/zombie fiction. Military or imperialistic fantasies disguised as space opera won’t do it for me. Short stories are, well, too short.
I’m difficult.
And in need of reading suggestions. Basic requirements: light reading that passes the Bechdel test, has a good plot that doesn’t pose marriage as the solution to the characters situations, and doesn’t position conquest, pain, or death as the key entertainment. Bonus points for comedy.
