Why is reading a book only once the norm?

I used to think it was lazy of me to re-read. There’s definitely a certain kind of energy that is not required upon a second or third read.

But that energy doesn’t mean the first read is superior to subsequent reads. Making a particular cake for the first time takes more energy than subsequent bakes, and it is not generally considered a lazy waste of time to make the same cake a second, even a third time. People are celebrated for perfecting particular cakes, even.

After all, the first bake is high risk. Are all of the ingredients included in the ingredient list? No. You have to carefully read through extensive discussion about how beaten a moderately well beaten egg should be to discover that you need vanilla—and, oh, approximately 2 tablespoons of boiling water in which to dissolve the espresso powder that you have discovered is fused into a hockey puck. There you are, mid-egg-beating, attacking the hockey puck with an ice pick while boiling water and trying to get the vanilla lid unstuck.

Such are the perils of following a recipe for the first time. You learn a lot and with luck the result is enjoyable. But clearly baking that cake next time will go more smoothly, unless you wait so long you forget everything you learned the first time.

Reading a book for the first time is, likewise, fraught with peril. Some may spend their energy distracted by worries about a character they like who seems determined to make bad choices. I’m talking to you, Anita Brookner heroines. Others may read a book about family and love and despair stubbornly focused on global warming because that’s the significant lens for them at that time. I’m talking to you, theoretically-minded readers. Perhaps the likeliest distraction is simply ploughing through to the end to “find out what happens.”

Clearly a second or third read presents an opportunity for a new experience, and who is to say that it’s the first read that matters most? If re-reading is lazy, surely it is a laziness to embrace.