"Oh, it is only a novel!"

I'm just starting to read Northanger Abbey, and tonight, I got to Austen's "defense of the novel".  Here is my favorite little bit:

" 'And what are you reading, Miss --?' 'Oh! it is only a novel!' replies the young lady, while she lays down her book with affected indifference, or momentary shame. 'It is only Cecilia, or Camilla, or Belinda'; or, in short, only some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humour, are conveyed to the world in the best-chosen language."

Northanger Abbey is the very novel that Austen writes to chide and satirize many contemporary novels of her age, but that aside, her defense here reminds me of the truth in fiction.  

You see, I have been struggling to answer a very basic question for myself: why read novels?  After all, as an English professor, this question is what I must answer for students, but certainly not for myself, right? After years of struggling to communicate the answer, I woke up one day and realized I was the one asking the question.  Cue vocational crisis. 

I should know why novels matter, and they matter for all the wonderful reasons that Austen mentions  -- the powers of the mind, the knowledge of humanity in all its varieties, the expressions of wit and humor, and all the lovely uses of language.  But, but, but....

It is like wanting to believe in Santa, but deep down, you know that the fantasy isn't real.  I need a pillow that says, "I believe in reading novels" so that I will inspire others to believe as well.

I often think we are reading all the wrong novels.  We force Orwell down high schoolers' throats when -- good God -- we should just let them read Collins.  Or we assign Bronte when Rowling would do.  Who needs to read it all, anyway?  We can't.  Only some of us will see the Louvre in person. Others of us will just see images online and survive. Let us choose our battles.  Let us choose our pleasures.

I will continue to read novels, and I will continue to ask why.  Perhaps I will not be ashamed of reading them, but I desperately need to seek a reason I can believe fully -- with heart and mind.