Who’s Ben Von Jagow Reading?

Have you seen the new season of Stranger Things?

Are you up to date on Heated Rivalry?

Did you watch that new Avatar movie?

No, no, and no.

People are often dumbfounded when they learn that I don’t have a TV, or an Xbox, or a subscription to any streaming service. I shake my head, and they look at me like I’m prehistoric, or Amish, or just plain weird.

“Well, what do you do with your free time?”

Unfortunately, there’s no way to say “I read” without sounding like a pretentious asshole. But it’s the truth.

I read in long jags – on metros, in waiting rooms, stretched out in bed – and I read in short spurts – during meals, at work, even while sitting on the toilet.

I read because some long-forgotten professor once delivered a lecture on the effects of compounding – how small, consistent actions can yield large results – and for whatever reason, the concept stuck with me.

Almost all of Microeconomics was washed away in a beer tsunami. Statistics for Business suffered the consequences of “the bucket system.” And football jostled loose what was left. The principle of compounding, though – that stuck with me like a scar.

In those days, I hadn’t yet known I wanted to be a writer, but I do remember holding on to that tidbit, safeguarding it as though it were something valuable. Years later, when I decided I wanted to start writing books, I researched the best way to do it. Everyone seemed to be saying different versions of the same thing:

In order to write, you must first learn to read.

So now I steal all the little moments I can in the day and fill them with reading. Over time, those moments compound, and I end up going through a great deal of books. And since I have the attention span of a sugar-coaxed iPad kid, I bounce around between them.

Here are a few of the books currently on my nightstand, coffee table, and in my backpack:

The Other Side of the Bridge by Mary Lawson

Some books I read and I think, I can do this. Then there are books which I open and think, I will never, ever write this well. Mary Lawson has that effect on me. She’s a brilliant storyteller and I typically re-read at least one of her books every year. At the moment, it’s The Other Side of the Bridge which, in my opinion, is her best work (though you can’t go wrong with any of her titles).

A Love Affair with the Unknown by Gill Deacon

I drove an hour and thirteen minutes to Gill Deacon’s book launch and I complained the entire way. Listening to Gill speak, though, transformed my mood entirely. I was also hooked after the first page of her book. The line that did it: near-catatonic slug-person, limp as an overcooked noodle. Money.

by René Goscinny and Jean-Jacques Sempé

Pour pratiquer mon français.

Perestroika by Malena Mokhovikova

In 2023, I wrote a couple of poems that appeared in EVENT 52/3. On the page next to mine were poems written by someone named Malena Mokhovikova, who reached out, and we struck up a chat. Over time a literary friendship blossomed, and today I’m reading her first chapbook. It’s about fleeing Russia and how that experience shaped her, and so far, it’s phenomenal. I also thought that was pretty cool – a friendship founded on words. And beautiful words they are.

The Fall Off by J. Cole

Another one of the great storytellers of our time. No, The Fall Off is not technically a book, but I paid $66.12 with the exchange rate for the CD so I’m allotting myself the right to include it here. Argue with a wall. Also, it’s been worth every penny. I’ve pored over this album, analyzed lines, memorized lyrics, and lost myself in the rhythm. GOAT status.

The New Quarterly, Issue 177

I’ve been digesting this issue slowly, trying to afford each page the attention it deserves. So far, the quality of work has blown me away. Some of my favourites include, “The Smallest Things” by Kornelia Drianovski, “Monday Night Viewing” by Pete Bock, and “Navigating Line Breaks and Linebackers” by Ben von Jagow.

Ben von Jagow is the author of Goalie (Guernica Editions). His work has appeared in Canadian Literature, Prairie Fire, Queen’s Quarterly, The Fiddlehead, and the Literary Review of Canada, among other publications. For more of Ben’s work, visit benvj.com.