Reading As An Act of Resistance: How the Nerds Inherit the Earth

I read Animal Farm in high school. I learned that power corrupts; and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

I read Lord of the Flies. I learned about scapegoating, and scarcity. And mob mentality.

I read Heart of Darkness.  I hate that damn book, and I had to read it 3 times. THREE. Twice in high school for two different teachers (who I felt could have done some better collaborative work in planning their curriculum, but whatever) and then again in college for a Victorian lit class. I learned from Conrad that industry can be a force of great evil; and that a narcissist in charge of anything is a very, very dangerous thing.

I read Shakespeare, and Milton, and Chaucer (ugh) and I learned the satire is a powerful weapon against tyranny.

I’m among the many people who read avidly, sometimes with manic fervor–not just for homework, but as a way of life.

We learned, alongside Harry Potter, that “the world is not divided into good people and Death Eaters;” that there is capacity for great evil and great good within each of us, and if we don’t nurture the good, the darker things eat us alive. We also learned with him that “might” does not, in fact, make right; and that none of us has the power to fight the darkness alone. It takes an organized magical community to keep the shadows at bay.

And we’ve seen what President Snow can do. We’ve seen that isolating factions of people from each other will destroy the fabric of democracy. We know that only a Katniss– a leader with tremendous courage and vision–can overcome those boundaries and rebuild society by urging people out of isolation. And we’ve seen how ferociously an authoritarian ruler will fight to keep that gilded, golden palace apart from the commoners.

We know this story. Or rather, these many stories, which are all different expressions of the same human story. It is all familiar terrain. And so, when Kellyanne Conway went on Meet the Press and uttered those terrifying words “Alternative facts…” that phrase became not just an on-going punchline for late-night comics; it was a call to action for book nerds everywhere.

What she meant to do was defend the gas-lighting ways of this administration, discount the press, and encourage the public to no longer trust what they see and hear. But instead, she rallied the collective conscience of literature hounds near and far. Within 24 hours, George Orwell’s 1984 had shot to the #1 seller spot on Amazon. The people went to reading, and re-reading, our primers on fascism. Because we, who know this story, are the ones who see it coming. The ones who defend the free press, and stand up for the immigrant, and march for women, and defend public education and science.

Because we know how this story ends without those things.

Which is to say–English Majors and bookworms everywhere, this is our moment. Nerds, rise up. We are the ones who know this story, because we’ve read it before. Over, and over, and over again–whether for homework or for pleasure; under the duress of a term paper deadline, or hidden under the covers with a flashlight to just finish this one more chapter after the tyranny of bedtime. We know where this road takes us. We see the warning signs of autocracy because we have travelled to those depths many times with a beloved cast of characters.

So maybe we are the ones who can pen a better ending to this terrifying plot line we see unfolding at our feet.

And not just the English Majors: also the history buffs; the scientists; the theologians; the music people; teachers; parents who treasure nightly story time above all else; the  CPA and the CEO who sneak a few chapters into the furtive lunch break; the 3rd shift worker, reading on the bus or the subway. We’re all in this together, because this is not just a resistance to a certain leader, or a particular administration. What we’re battling, at this moment, is bigger than that.

A poster at the U.S. Holocaust Museum displays the “Early Warning Signs of Fascism”…and a photo of that sign has gone viral this week because it is clear that America is living into every one of those signs. Chief among them? “Disdain for intellectuals and the arts.”

The wave of anti-intellectualism that’s been growing among us for years has just been sanctified by the White House. When your President brags that he never reads–in fact, cannot name the last book he read to completion; when he vilifies the “experts” in any field and stacks his house with special interest hacks and billionaires; when those in his corner reject the reality of public witness and lean instead on “alternative facts;” then you know that we are wandering into a dark place. Clearly, this is going to be a season of targeted contempt for the educated, the reasoned, and the smarty-pants of every stripe.

I have never in life considered myself an academic or an intellectual. I did ok in school. I did homework because I had to, but I was never the straight-A type. I got a Master’s Degree because it was required for ordination, but I never exactly reveled in writing research papers. I have no desire to pursue a higher degree, and I don’t stake much of my identity in the ones I’ve got.

But– I am a reader. I always have been, and I always will be. And at this moment in history, I’m glad to be on same team as Atticus Finch, and Jo March, and all the Ravenclaws . Because when the going gets tough, the tough get to the library. We know that our greatest strength lies between the covers of history, and science, and scripture, and literature. Every volume is a roadmap for what lies ahead; and the achilles heel of all who think they are above the wisdom contained in those pages. That makes reading the ultimate act of resistance.

We have flipped ahead, after all, to see how this all goes down. And who better to re-write the ending, than those who know this story by heart?