Oh, you read Stephenie Meyer? Cuz I read Michel Foucault.

While perusing The Book Bench, I found a link with an interesting story about blue collar workers' (sarcastic use of the euphemism) perception of books and reading. Here's a succinct quote about readers: "[they] don’t know how to live."

The study also show's that these 20 million working class find the reading world too intimidating. If anything, this belief transcends class. I'm surprised how many people on the T aren't afraid to read in public and endure the leers and silent judgments of the, ahem, other socio-economic group. At least with your iPod you could pretend you were listening to Matmos when you were secretly enjoying ABBA, but it's difficult to hide what book you're reading. The anomaly, of course, being the few Kindle owners that have sprouted up.

While one of the books I see being read is already a ubiquitous title, the other book I always see on the T is "The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao." I loved the book, tore through it, treating the pages like they belonged in a flipbook. And while it's received many accolades, it's not an easy text; it's riddled with footnotes--not "Infinite Jest" level, but still--and it features a couple different points of view and plotlines, not to mention it features a lot of history and research. I don't want to seem like I'm bent on stunting advancement or anything, so unless you're an unassuming housewife that got it from Oprah's Book Club and are just starting it, how immersed can you be in a book like that--or, for that matter, a dense college text--when you're traveling from Cambridge to Downtown? That's where I think this idea of intimidation comes in.

Self-conscious about what you read? Let me rid you of your anxiety: a former classmate of mine carried a worn paperback of "The Great Gatsby" in his back pocket. You know, like, for dramatic effect. It epitomizes conspicuous "reading" habits for me; hard to judge anything after that.

It's almost refreshing to see the umpteen billion people in public reading about teen vampires. They're not stopping you from reading Updike--and they know he's dead, okay?--so let them read "Twilight." Let's not go Mussolini on everybody, shall we?