The Underrated Pleasure of Reading Fiction

I used to read nonfiction books exclusively. I’m not sure when it started. Probably sometime in college when I – like so many delusional males my age – decided that I wanted to become rich.

And so I started reading anything that could help me get rich. I read books about entrepreneurship, personal finance, productivity, business, psychology and marketing. I set aside $50 a month from my salary at my first job (a huge amount to me at the time) to buy books.

It was a worthwhile investment, and I learnt a lot. But after several years, everything started to blur together. Most new books cited the same old pop psychology behavioural sciencey-type studies. They all made the same points, just packaged in different ways. (By the way, I discovered that the secret to getting rich was to work hard, be valuable, and spend less than you earn. Shocker.)

After reading the same old examples for the 653rd time, I got bored. And so, during a recent holiday, I decided thatI would try to read fiction again. This was a big deal for me. My last fiction book was probably the Harry Potter series, which I would sneak into the office and read under my desk during internships.

How Fiction Changed My Perspective

But, where to begin? Thankfully, my team did an informal poll about their favourite books a couple of months ago. So I picked the first fiction book on the list, borrowed it from the library, and started to read. (Side note: Singapore’s NLB is freakin’ awesome. It’s our most underrated public service, in my opinion)

In a span of 4 months, I devoured:

  • The Enigma of Room 622 by Joel Dicker
  • Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin
  • Yellowface by Rebecca Kuang
  • The Great Reclamation by Rachel Heng
  • Welcome to the Hyunam-Dong Bookshop by Hwang Bo-reum
  • The Suicide Club by Rachel Heng

I’d read more in 4 months than I’d read the whole of last year. Not all the books were great (some were pretty meh actually), but it changed my whole perspective of reading.

Previously, books were a source of utility: I’d go in, extract the information I needed, and get out. They were to be taken seriously. So I highlighted passages, took careful notes, and tried to apply the lessons in my life.

But now, books were a source of meaning, emotion, and (dare I say it) pleasure. They could make me laugh or keep me in suspense. They helped me draw meaning in everyday details. They made me appreciate the simple fact that everyone has different emotions and perspectives. And they reminded me not to take everything so damn seriously all the time.

Three Reasons Why I Love (Good) Fiction

First, it helps me notice the little details. Often, these detailswould be difficult to convey through other media, like video. For example, take this passage from Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow:

The invitation was quite plain, which is to say, it was not obviously fancy. Heavy cream card stock, raised text, vellum-lined envelope. But Sam was old enough to have noticed that simple things were often the most expensive. He held the invitation to his nose and he took a certain pleasure in the scent of fine paper. Sam didn’t think it smelled like money, because money was dirty. It smelled rich and clean, like a hardcover from a bookstore, like Sadie herself.

I often let observations like these pass me by. But once someone articulates them, I can’t unsee them. And it’s only through the written word that you can truly highlight the richness of experiencing those little details.

Second, stories help me convey meaning to events. The Great Reclamation is a story about a kampong family set against the backdrop of Singapore’s relentless march from sleepy fishing village to first-world metropolis. In this passage, the protagonist Ah Boon reflected on how he felt after the Japanese Occupation:

Ah Boon had the feeling that the world he inhabited was false. Though Syonan-To was no longer, the country that stood in its stead felt like a flimsy mirage, an uneasy dream of its former self. The kampong was the kampong and yet it was not, it was temporary, it could not last. The war had shown that to be true. A restlessness plagued him. It had begun in his toes—they could no longer keep still.

In the book, Ah Boon first experiences a whole range of emotions and experiences: love, war, grief and heartbreak. But when he realises how unstable this is, he decides to join the “Gah Men” (government) and transforms into a pragmatic, efficient, and effective problem-solver. Much like the development of Singapore itself.

It made me think about how Singapore’s entire identity is shaped through the lived experiences of millions of people like Ah Boon. Why we value pragmatism, stability and efficiency so much, over other values like political diversity or liberalism.

Thirdly, fiction is just more fun. One of my favourite books recently was Yellowface, a horror story about the dangers of social media and the cutthroat publishing industry. Rebecca Kuang is a hilarious writer with gems like:

I felt, as Kanye put it, harder, better, faster, and stronger. I felt like the kind of person who now listened to Kanye.

I’m not opposed to children in theory, but I think I would have liked Allie better if she were a shy, bookish type I could have taken on shopping sprees at indie bookstores instead of an iPhone-addicted, TikTok-obsessed basic bitch in training.

Not all books are this enjoyable to read, but every time I come across a clever turn of phrase or a witty observation, I get a little tingle of pleasure. Good writing is hard to come by these days.

In Conclusion

Reading has fallen out of style lately. Our TikTok-wired brains have little patience to sit down for an hour to read an actual freakin’ book.

It didn’t used to be this way though. When I was a kid, I loved reading. I could read Road Dahl and Enid Blyton and Paul Jennings till late into the night. And then, I kind of lost my way by taking reading a little too seriously through nonfiction.

I’m glad that I rediscovered fiction though. It’s helped me to fall back in love with reading again. I’m on the lookout for some good fiction books; let me know if you have any recommendations!

This week’s Shiny Dime writing prompt was “What’s something you think is underrated, and why?”

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Cheerful Egg: