As I was a daily Guardian reader before I joined the steady stream of doctors leaving England for Canada in the 1960s, I made sure I subscribed to the Guardian Weekly after settling in Kingston, Ontario.
Now, a partially retired psychiatrist living in Waterloo, Ontario, as I look back over decades of reading the paper, I see that it does two things for me.
First, it guarantees I am plugged in: plugged in to the scene – cultural, political, scientific, social – and plugged in to the intellectual ideas swirling around the world that are essential to know about.
I regularly read articles in the paper on topics that, at first, seem obscure or esoteric. But, reading these articles keeps me ahead of the curve. Time and again, maybe a year later, these same topics will crop up on TV or in a conversation and I can lean back and think – ah, I know about that, I read it in the Guardian Weekly.
Second, it has improved my writing. Every week I will suddenly pause while reading and marvel at the sheer aptness of a word or phrase. I’ve absorbed the style of its arresting first sentences and paragraphs. I’ve adopted its prose rhythms and punctuation style. Even when I turn to the sports page – the only section I have no interest in – I can still appreciate the artfulness of a narrative describing the winning strategy in a football match or the style of a tennis player.
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