The Therapeutic Value of Reading

Germaine Leece’s fascinating piece in the Guardian

Germaine Leece’s article in the Guardian last May left a lasting impression on me. Provocatively titled (‘Have a lover, have friends, read books,’ said Montaigne. He was right about one of them), in it she advocates the positive effects of reading. Leece, a bibliotherapist, describes the “therapeutic value” that stories can have through engaging our emotions. If you’re interested, I would encourage you to read her article for yourself. My short rumination that follows does not do justice to its breadth and depth.

Leece takes her title from the Renaissance essayist Michel de Montaigne, who famously espoused three cures for loneliness: Have a lover, have friends, read books. But interestingly, of these three only the latter, reading, is truly abiding. Leece summarises why: “[Montaigne] argued sexual pleasure is too fleeting and betrayal too common, and while friendship was better it always ended with death. Therefore, the only therapy that could endure through life was the companionship of literature.”

I love that expression: the companionship of literature. As a keen reader, it resonates with me somewhere deep in my soul. When I come to read a book, whether one that is familiar to me or “a stranger”, I often feel the warm solace of its companionship. Reading is not necessarily act of escapism, but can be an exploration of our interior selves, mediated through a story as we vicariously inhabit the lives of others. Often, it is in those times when I am immersed in a good story, distracted from the busyness of life, that I acheive moments of insight and clarity. I forget about myself, in order to find myself.

I was struck, as I read the Leece’s article, by the ways in which her ideas can be applied to reading religious texts, such as the Bible. History shows us how the Bible is a book that, perhaps more than any other book, does truly endure for a lifetime. For many, certainly for me, it is the greatest of literary companions.

Throughout our lives countless numbers of us turn to the Bible, perhaps as part of some kind of daily practice, or perhaps only in those crucial hours of need and desperation. In fact, even those of us who do not read the Bible at all cannot escape its prevailing influence upon our cultures and societies. Of all books, it is the Bible to which many of us have some kind of relationship. That relationship differs enormously from person to person. It could be direct, where the actual biblical text is engaged, or indirect, where the Bible’s enduring significance is encountered in the pages of other literary works, or indeed elsewhere in society. But still, we cannot escape the story of the Bible. It’s unavoidable.

Following the emphasis of Leece’s article, I would argue the Bible should indeed first and foremost be read as a story. If you’re approaching the Bible for the first time today or the thousandth time, I encourage you to take that view: the Bible is a story. It can be read in myriad other ways, of course; for ancient religious history, sociology, or psychology, for literary intrigue, for the formation of theological systems and structures. But, I would argue, if the Bible is not first and foremost engaged as the Christian story of God’s involvement with humanity, then we have almost entirely missed the point. If you’re picking up the Bible, immerse yourself in its story.

Any good story involves some kind of encounter. It is as though two horizons collide: the horizon of the world of the story, and the horizon of the world of the reader. And in that collision, in that encounter, the reader is left changed in some way — inspired, perhaps transformed. This is true of all good literature. It’s not uncommon to hear a person say, “That book changed my life.” For a religious text, like the Bible, I think this is true all the more. For the Bible, in some sense, the world of the story is the world of the reader. Why? Because the story of the Bible is still playing out. The last scenes of the final act are still being performed, and the stage is the world.

So, read the Bible as a story, as a grand narrative of a personal God deeply and intimately involved with the world. Immerse yourself in that story. Yet, at the same time, know that when you put the book down, the story may still follow you around. It may inspire you, or lead to your transformation. As you take part in its ending, it may lead you into a new beginning.

The Coffeehouse Cleric is a Medium Publication dedicated to asking the big questions of life. We feature writing on three main areas: minimalism, spirituality, and learning. Thank you for reading.