An unmitigated delight for any bibliophile, Holbrook Jackson's musings on the joys of reading combine his irrepressible wit with the wisdom of famous readers from all corners of the world. These three volumes are a leisurely, luxuriant confabulation on "the usefulness, purpose, and pleasures that proceed from books."In The Reading of Books, Jackson focuses on the relationship between author and reader, describing reading as "the art of extracting essences from books for our own, not the author's benefit." Reading should be "a courtship ending in a collaboration" -- a creative process in which readers not only share the writers' aesthetic experiences but also distill them into something more personal.
As Jackson says, reading is not a duty, and if it is not a pleasure it is a waste of time. Entertaining as well as instructive, his "books on books" provide inveterate readers with all things needful: vindication, inspiration, cogitation, and delectation.
Interesting enough, and clearly by a scholar who enjoys reading a lot, which I can only appreciate, of course;-) The book has an approach that shows that it's from the first part of the 20th Century, though; sounding a little quaint nowadays.
I can see why the author, Jackson, keeps mentioning and quoting classic writers, and especially poets, already long dead when he wrote the book, but it only shows how old-fashioned he is in many ways. This is especially clear when he is discussing the modernists--those in his own time. He does seem to find it hard to accept as real artists, for real, those not "in tune" with the past and with Nature, in some way. And "art for art's sake" is clearly not something to take seriously.
Writing with ideas/propaganda in mind is evidently not to his liking (regardless of what they propose and personal preferences, so he is, it must be noted, trying to be balanced on this issue). On this point I find myself in close to 100% agreement.
He does have an interesting argument for "bookmanship" as being reading for life, and not "merely" for reading; and I have a certain sympathy for his idea that pleasure and enjoyment alone can go a long way of doing this. About such matters there's not much of a snob in Jackson, and this is a point I think we can learn something about.
(A side-note: Many of the ideas, if not always the actual angle, herein would probably have sounded okay in Lovecraft's ears, with his classicism and all.)