Latest news with #AnnaKarenina


Scientific American
2 days ago
- Science
- Scientific American
Optimists Are Alike, but Pessimists Are Unique, Bran Scan Study Suggests
'All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.' This is the first line of Leo Tolstoy's novel Anna Karenina, and it may hold a kernel of truth that goes beyond family dynamics. In a recent study of optimism, neuroscientists found an equivalent principle at play: optimists shared similar patterns of activity in a key brain region when they imagined future events, but each pessimist's brain patterns was unique. The results help neuroscientists understand what distinguishes optimism from pessimism in the brain. This is an important question because optimism is associated with better physical, mental and social health. The results were published on Monday in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences USA. 'We tend to think of imagining the future as a deeply personal, subjective act,' says Kuniaki Yanagisawa, the study's lead author and a psychologist at Kobe University in Japan. 'Our study, however, shows that—especially for optimists—the way our brains do this can be similar' and suggests that such shared cognitive frameworks for imagining the future might explain why we 'click' with some people, he says. Prior studies have shown that optimists have larger social networks and higher acceptance by their peers. Yanagisawa wanted to understand 'whether this social success is just about personality,' he says, 'or if optimists might share a fundamental brain mechanism that makes it easier for them to form social connections.' On supporting science journalism If you're enjoying this article, consider supporting our award-winning journalism by subscribing. By purchasing a subscription you are helping to ensure the future of impactful stories about the discoveries and ideas shaping our world today. The researchers scanned participants in a functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) machine while they imagined specific future events happening to either them or their spouse. Some of the events were positive; others were neutral or negative. Afterward the team had the participants take a questionnaire to determine their level of optimism or pessimism. The researchers conducted the study twice, once in a group of 37 participants and again in a group of 50. To analyze the brain scans, the researchers zoomed in on one region that's particularly active while imagining future events: the medial prefrontal cortex, located in the middle of the very front of the brain. They compared patterns of brain activation in each possible pair of participants and used statistical tests to determine how similar the activations were to each other in these pairs. The team found that only pairs consisting of two optimistic participants had similar brain activation; pairs where one or both participants were more pessimistic were dissimilar to each other. The researchers also found that optimistic people showed bigger differences between brain patterns for emotionally positive and negative events than pessimists did. A few prior studies of 'positive' social traits have shown similar results. A 2022 brain scan study showed that people who held a central position in their social network have similar activation patterns to one another—but that less central people had a lot of individual differences, or idiosyncrasies. The same pattern held true in another study of people with low versus high levels of loneliness. Elisa Baek, a social neuroscientist now at the University of Southern California and lead author of those two studies, refers to these results as examples of the ' Anna Karenina principle,' the idea that successful endeavors have similar characteristics but that unsuccessful ones are each different in their own way. 'One intriguing interpretation [of the optimism study], consistent with the Anna Karenina principle, is that there may be many different ways for a person to be pessimistic, while optimistic people tend to converge on a few shared mental models of a hopeful future,' Baek says. Together, these studies 'may point to a more general principle—that being 'on the same page' as others is a foundational mechanism that underlies the experience of social connection.' If there is an Anna Karenina principle at work for positive social traits, what would be causing it? After all, the traits we deem 'positive' vary greatly among different societies, so there's a risk of cultural bias. Yanagisawa thinks that these cultural values could actually be driving the effect—they orient people toward a specific goal that is valued in a society, such as being optimistic or having a lot of social connections, perhaps leading those individuals to behave and think similarly over time. It's also possible that optimism, as measured in this study, is picking up on related traits such as people's level of loneliness or position in a social network. 'These convergent findings raise an important question about the overlap between constructs such as optimism, loneliness and network centrality,' Baek says. 'Because the new study didn't control for loneliness or social network position, and my prior work didn't control for optimism, it is unclear how much these dimensions are overlapping or distinct.' Optimism and pessimism aren't unchanging traits; they tend to shift with age, although the trajectories vary from culture to culture. Nor is optimism an unquestioned good. 'Extreme optimism might not always be a good thing because we might not plan for the future as well as we should,' says Aleea Devitt, a psychologist at the University of Waikato in New Zealand, who studies future thinking. And 'pessimism may be a useful 'positive' trait in some situations; there's evidence that some people can be defensive pessimists, which can actually help them better prepare for the future.'

Sydney Morning Herald
11-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
Too busy to read to children? You're missing out on one of life's greatest joys
Have you heard the voice I do for the mouse in The Gruffalo children's book? I've based it on that of Kenneth Horne from Round the Horne, who I realise is not so well known these days. But the voice is just perfect for the character of that brave little mouse. Oh my God, I love reading aloud. My dreams of being an actor may have ended in tears at age 16, but with a children's book in hand, I have a renewed chance to perform. The criticism my acting always received in school productions – 'far too big, can't you tone it down a little?' – appears no impediment to applause from this particular audience. Who doesn't like reading books to kids? Lots of people, according to a new survey which also found 30 per cent of NSW parents and 22 per cent of Victorian parents say they're too busy to read daily to their children. It fits with a recent UK study finding that reading aloud to children is at an all-time low. Fewer than half of 0-to-4-year-olds are read to frequently, and fewer than half of parents of children under 13 said reading aloud to children was 'fun for me'. 'Fun for me' is precisely the phrase I'd use, whether it's the memories of reading to my own children decades ago or reading to those children's children. Often the same books, the pages all torn and tatty. What's so good about reading aloud? The child, for once, is sitting still. Not tearing up and down the hallway on a tricycle, not painting bunny rabbits on the wall with Texta, not using the drawer handles as a ladder to clamber onto the stove-top, searching for the ignition. Instead, they are sitting calmly, head leaning on your shoulder, entranced. What's not to love? Repetition, to be fair, can be an issue. Jemima and Big Ted's mission to the moon has an engaging plot based on the International Space Station running out of honey, which apparently is a real problem. It's a favourite with the current lot and, if you'll forgive a moment of vanity, I think my Big Ted voice is quite compelling. On the other hand, is it worth reading 4371 times, when I've only read Anna Karenina twice? The Big Ted story is new to our collection, but other books are like a time machine. You sit there with a child on your knee, reading Maurice Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are, or CJ Dennis' A Book for Kids, or Margaret Wild's Toby – same copy, same knee, same time-tested accents. It may be life's only way to make 30 years disappear.

The Age
11-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Age
Too busy to read to children? You're missing out on one of life's greatest joys
Have you heard the voice I do for the mouse in The Gruffalo children's book? I've based it on that of Kenneth Horne from Round the Horne, who I realise is not so well known these days. But the voice is just perfect for the character of that brave little mouse. Oh my God, I love reading aloud. My dreams of being an actor may have ended in tears at age 16, but with a children's book in hand, I have a renewed chance to perform. The criticism my acting always received in school productions – 'far too big, can't you tone it down a little?' – appears no impediment to applause from this particular audience. Who doesn't like reading books to kids? Lots of people, according to a new survey which also found 30 per cent of NSW parents and 22 per cent of Victorian parents say they're too busy to read daily to their children. It fits with a recent UK study finding that reading aloud to children is at an all-time low. Fewer than half of 0-to-4-year-olds are read to frequently, and fewer than half of parents of children under 13 said reading aloud to children was 'fun for me'. 'Fun for me' is precisely the phrase I'd use, whether it's the memories of reading to my own children decades ago or reading to those children's children. Often the same books, the pages all torn and tatty. What's so good about reading aloud? The child, for once, is sitting still. Not tearing up and down the hallway on a tricycle, not painting bunny rabbits on the wall with Texta, not using the drawer handles as a ladder to clamber onto the stove-top, searching for the ignition. Instead, they are sitting calmly, head leaning on your shoulder, entranced. What's not to love? Repetition, to be fair, can be an issue. Jemima and Big Ted's mission to the moon has an engaging plot based on the International Space Station running out of honey, which apparently is a real problem. It's a favourite with the current lot and, if you'll forgive a moment of vanity, I think my Big Ted voice is quite compelling. On the other hand, is it worth reading 4371 times, when I've only read Anna Karenina twice? The Big Ted story is new to our collection, but other books are like a time machine. You sit there with a child on your knee, reading Maurice Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are, or CJ Dennis' A Book for Kids, or Margaret Wild's Toby – same copy, same knee, same time-tested accents. It may be life's only way to make 30 years disappear.


Time of India
07-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Time of India
X user claims you can read 100+ books a day with AI— but the internet isn't convinced
Recently, Packy McCormick — the writer behind the Not Boring newsletter, posted a tweet that felt both hilarious and painfully accurate. With biting sarcasm, he quipped a tip for his users 'you can basically read> 100 books per day by asking ChatGPT to summarize them for you. Tired of too many ads? go ad free now ' Attached was a screenshot where the AI neatly distilled Anna Karenina into a tidy, 300-word explanation — plotlines, themes, and all. And if that didn't make a statement enough, Packy in his follow-up tweet, Packy asked ChatGPT to summarize The Lost Art of Reading — a book ironically warning about our shrinking attention spans and the slow erosion of deep, meaningful engagement with text. The AI obliged, and explained that David L. Ulin explains through his work, that 'in this fast paced, hyper-connected world, we're losing the ability– and patience– to sit with a book and engage deeply. The irony wasn't lost on anyone. A tool partly responsible for this very erosion was now calmly explaining its consequences — as if it hadn't just accelerated the trend. It was meta, brutal, and hilarious all at once. And netizens were quick to catch on to that. One user wrote, 'You're missing the entire point of reading. Books aren't just about the narrative. They're about word useage(sic), language. They're about culture - they give you quotes, insight to historical context and worldview. You cannot get any of that with a child's summary of what was an iconic book that served to change our world when it was released.' Another said, 'You read books for more than one thing. The point of reading a book like Anna Karenina is the experience of reading Anna Karenina. Tired of too many ads? go ad free now How did the love happen? How did the betrayal happen? What was the clash between desire and expectation? All lost in these crass cliff notes.' A third user puts her understanding quite eloquently. She wrote, 'Pro tip: you can basically eat whatever you want per day by asking chatgpt the recipe of it.' But beneath the humor lies a real, more unsettling truth. In a world that's constantly speeding up, where information is bite-sized and everything scrolls past in seconds, reading remains one of the last few acts that demands our full attention. It slows us down. It offers depth. And maybe most importantly, it gives us companionship — a quiet conversation with a voice that's not shouting over the noise. In a fast, distracted, and often lonely world, reading might just be the most human thing left.


The Guardian
02-07-2025
- General
- The Guardian
Choose comfort, ditch boring and prioritise pleasure – how to find the perfect beach read
Leo Tolstoy's novel Anna Karenina is a masterpiece. It has never been out of print. Luminaries from William Faulkner to Jilly Cooper have remarked on its brilliance. It is usually within the top 10 of any list of the '100 books you simply must read before you die'. However, I would argue that it's a singularly poor choice of a book to bring with you for 10 days on the beach in Tenerife. Especially in hardback. I really tried. Every day, I'd read two or three pages before realising I'd read the same pages the day before, and it simply hadn't stuck. I kept drifting off during the more complex descriptions of 19th-century property law. I simply couldn't see what Anna saw in Vronsky; he seemed dreadful, just a slightly different kind of dreadful from her husband, Karenin. My arms ached, the sand seemed unusually gritty, and on day four, as children shrieked and splashed around me, their parents read Jack Reacher books while I failed to understand the significance of Levin scything his fields, I thought, 'No more!' My luggage allowance was about 20kg. Tolstoy had taken up more than a tenth of it, and 100% of my headspace. I couldn't relax. I wasn't enjoying myself. When I found a Sophie Kinsella novel in the hotel gift shop, I almost wept with relief. It didn't matter that I'd already read The Undomestic Goddess – my aching brain craved comfort and joy, and it simply wasn't finding it on Russian railway lines. As an author and a reader, it makes me sad that 'beach read' has become a pejorative term. In my book Read Yourself Happy, I investigate the enormous positive impact that reading has on our wellbeing – and I discover that we can only experience the benefits of books if we're enjoying what we're reading. I believe that any reading we do is good for us, if it captures our attention and stimulates our imagination. The results of a 2016 Yale University study demonstrated that readers of books tend to live longer; another, published by the National Library of Medicine in 2020, showed that reading wards off cognitive decline. But studies also show that fewer children and adults are reading for pleasure. A 2024 survey from the Reading Agency found that 35% of us used to read for fun, but we've let the habit lapse. It's understandable, because it's incredibly difficult to cultivate a reading habit in the 21st century. We all think we 'should' read, in the way we think we 'should' do more exercise. We put it off. We pick up our phones and wish we could put them down again. It's very hard for books to compete with our phones, because books don't tend to light up, or vibrate, or flash with notifications. Books haven't been designed to be addictive. We plan to read when we have some free time. Eventually we go on holiday and promise ourselves that we'll tackle some serious Russian literature, or we bring the Booker winner with us. And we struggle to concentrate and connect with the story because we're not used to using our reading muscles. We long to pick up our phones and scroll instead. We feel angry with ourselves, and we resent the books. Reading feels like a chore, and we don't feel as though we're having the relaxing, reviving, nourishing holiday that we need. After my failed attempt to read Anna Karenina, I vowed to prioritise pleasure when choosing my holiday reading, jettisoning anything that felt too much like holiday homework. And I started to notice some surprising changes. First, I started to relax much more quickly. I didn't waste the first two days in a state of anxious agitation, struggling to switch off. In the past, I'd felt fidgety and restless when I was lying by the pool. However, when I found a book I loved, I lay with purpose. My sleep seemed to improve. I felt calmer and more grounded. It changed my focus, too. When I wasn't reading, I felt more present – I was better at listening to conversations and paying attention. During day trips, I didn't have the urge to scroll through my phone seeking out recommendations for better restaurant options or nicer beaches. I didn't have the same irritable holiday squabbles with my husband. This was partly because I felt happy and relaxed, and partly because most of those squabbles are about missing phone chargers and power adaptors. Reading was reducing my screen time, and I wasn't draining my phone battery. Most importantly, reading for pleasure made me feel that I'd benefited from the holiday. We go away because we need to relax and recharge. A holiday is supposed to have health benefits. And reading might be the magical secret that ensures we feel those benefits. It's one way to truly get away from it all. It's easy to dismiss 'fun' summer books: because they are so easy to read, critics (wrongly) assume that they must be easy to write. But in a world where everything can feel very difficult, easy books are more valid and valuable than ever. They bring us lasting, nourishing pleasure. Sarah Maxwell, the founder of England's first romance-only bookstore, Saucy Books, says that this summer the shop will be celebrating and focusing on beach reads. She says: 'A so-called 'beach read' can often reach places a serious book can't – especially when we're craving ease, escape or a dose of delight. Summer is a time to recharge, and reading for pleasure is one of the simplest, most nourishing ways to reconnect with yourself.' So when you're packing for your holiday, and fretting about reading the books that will impress your friends and intimidate your enemies, why not try to give yourself 'a dose of delight'? If you'd like to get the most from your time away, and read yourself happy, here are some suggestions. It sounds counterintuitive, but it might be worth bringing a book that you've already read. When I'm especially stressed, or struggling with anxiety, I bring one that I know I love. I find rereading very comforting, and sometimes I need to warm up with something familiar and remind myself that sitting down with a book feels good. It takes the pressure off the reading experience – and it feels like being reunited with old, beloved friends. If the idea of rereading an old book doesn't appeal, look for a book by a writer you've enjoyed before, or something from a series of books. (You can't go wrong with Poirot or Miss Marple.) Sometimes I start my holiday reading before I go on holiday. In the run-up to a trip, it feels as though there's never enough time to pack, clear my desk and do my laundry – but if I try to read a few pages every day, I feel the benefits as soon as I arrive. It can take a couple of chapters to get into a book, and it's difficult to focus in a new environment, even if it's supposed to be a relaxing space. But if I'm already invested in the narrative, I'm excited about picking it up as soon as I arrive. (And if I have been reading on the plane or train, I find the arrival process – waiting for luggage and going through passport control – a lot less stressful.) If I'm going on holiday with friends or family, I'll suggest we share and swap our books. That way, we can maximise our luggage allowance, and avoid a situation in which we have eight copies of We Solve Murders and All Fours between us. One of my favourite holidays was a trip to France with my sisters, where we all took it in turns to read The Disaster Artist – Greg Sestero and Tom Bissell's wild account of working with Tommy Wiseau on The Room ('the greatest bad movie ever made'). Of course, remember not to bring a prized first edition. Take a book that can be replaced if the worst happens. When books are being read and thoroughly enjoyed on holiday, they risk being dropped in the pool or covered in sun cream. Perhaps the most important piece of holiday advice is this: if you don't like the book you're reading, you don't have to finish it. Be fair to yourself, and fair to the book. Holidays are supposed to be relaxing and enjoyable. For example, if you work for Nasa and you're taking a break from a stressful workplace, you might feel tense and triggered after three chapters of Atmosphere, Taylor Jenkins Reid's new astronaut novel. Reading is a subjective experience. I will rarely give up on a book – but I often pick up a book and put it down again, realising I need to be in a better mood to get the best from it. And sometimes, changing to a more fun book is all it takes to put me in that better mood. I returned to Anna Karenina eventually. It took me a few years to do so – and I spent that time building up my reading muscles. I read it for pleasure, and by the time I was ready, my appetite for pleasure had become much broader. I didn't need to learn how to read; I needed to learn to love to read again. It was that Sophie Kinsella book that reminded me of the power of brilliant storytelling. The experience of losing myself in the novel was delicious, and it made me greedy for more. Reading for the sheer fun of it fills up my emotional tank and gives me the strength to attempt 'challenging' books. Maybe even more importantly, they also give me the strength to deal with challenging real-life situations. When I'm cheerfully immersing myself in a series of happily-ever-afters, I feel more optimistic and positive. I see the best in people, and I'm kinder and more patient. Life starts to imitate art. Reading always leaves me feeling better and calmer. I never regret picking up a book, and I'm so grateful to have discovered a hobby that makes me happy, as well as making me feel as though I'm on holiday. It's good to keep the holiday vibes alive and kicking on a dark, rainy Saturday afternoon in November. And I'm confident that reading for pleasure this summer will ensure you have a better time on the beach. But I suspect the benefits will outlast the trip, too. My holiday reading romance has been going on for years, and rediscovering my passion for romcoms made me realise that books had been my true love all along. Book Boyfriend by Lucy VineSimon & SchusterJenna is a reader, and a dreamer. When a secret admirer starts leaving her letters in her favourite book, she's reluctant to take the relationship off the page. But her chaotic twin, Clara, is determined to solve the mystery. This classic romcom is utterly charming – a gorgeous dollop of escapist fun. Tiny Daggers by Caroline CorcoranThomas & MercerBritish expat Holly has built herself a perfect life in Miami – but when her old schoolfriend, also called Holly, turns up, she might have the power to pull the thread and destroy it all. But which one is Good Holly, and which one is Bad Holly? This twisty thriller is a perfect poolside read. How To Make A Killing by Kate WestonHeadlineWhen Bella, the star agent at Harrington Estates, is murdered, people start to ask just how far her colleagues will go to make a sale. It's a riotous comedy with a body count. If you've ever harboured murderous thoughts about estate agents, this is the book for you. Say You'll Remember Me by Abby JimenezLittle, BrownSamantha falls for the hot and improbably named vet Xavier Rush almost instantly – and so do we. But, of course, they can't be together. Can they? Completely captivating and instantly addictive, if you want to remember the sheer, giddy fun of falling in love, this is the one to read. Can't Get Enough by Kennedy RyanPiatkusHendrix Barry is glamorous, fabulous and successful – but behind the scenes, life isn't so easy, as she has to take care of her ageing mother. She certainly doesn't have time for love. Until tech mogul Maverick Bell shows up. Ryan is Jackie Collins for the BookTok crowd – her romcoms are smartly written, laced with spice and so much fun to read. Read Yourself Happy by Daisy Buchanan (DK Red, £16.99). To support the Guardian, order your copy at Delivery charges may apply. The new series of Daisy Buchanan's podcast, You're Booked, will be recommending summer reads for every different mood, destination and suitcase. This article was amended on 2 July 2025 to describe Saucy Books as England's first romance-only bookstore; owing to an error introduced during editing, an earlier version had described it as the UK's first such store.