A girl on the cusp of adolescence gazes down at a book. Her left hand rests against her flushed pink cheeks, while her right clutches the pages, ready to turn to find out what happens next. She has porcelain-like skin and golden hair seemingly full of air, executed in textures that contrast with the scratchy, loose marks that make up her shirt and the book’s pages. When I look at this drawing, I am struck by how the artist, the American-born impressionist Mary Cassatt, has perfectly captured the all-consuming sensation of being submerged in a book – the feeling that the whole world is dissolving around you. For a moment, only that story matters.
Cassatt, who worked in Paris for most of her adult life when women were finally beginning to be accepted as artists (and deserving of state-funded art education), was hailed for her intimate portrayals of women and children. They are glimpses into their minds, their private worlds, yet they also emphasise intellect and ambition. Young Girl Reading is one such example. I often wonder if she is reading something like Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women, published nearly three decades before, which tells the story of the four March sisters, who are figuring out their journey to womanhood themselves.
My reader is encouraged to make ‘wish trees’ in the manner of Yoko Ono
It’s a striking image for many reasons, one that it makes me think about all the works that helped me through adolescence. But it also feels especially pertinent today in a world where being immersed in a story is fast becoming a thing of the past for young people. Instead, it is being replaced with social media addiction that chips away at growing, flourishing brains. In 2025, the National Literacy Trust (NLT) found that the percentage of children and young people in the UK who “enjoyed reading” was at its lowest for 20 years. Fewer than one in five 8-18-year-olds said they read “something daily” in their free time, marking a 36% decrease in enjoyment levels since 2005.
That is why the charity is making 2026 the National Year of Reading: a UK-wide, government-supported initiative, driven by the NLT, to help more people rediscover the joy of reading. The aim is to distribute 72,000 new books to children with the greatest need. While Louisa May Alcott might be appealing for some, the campaign wants to find books all children might enjoy – starting with what they’re passionate about, from history to sport, from film to art.
‘I enjoyed teaching people who had no interest in art’ … Georgia O’Keeffe in Albuquerque, New Mexico, 1960. Photograph: Tony Vaccaro/Getty Images
I recently read a riveting biography of English footballer Bukayo Saka with my six-year-old nephew, but it is an enjoyment of art that I’m hoping to instil in young readers through my new book, The Story of Art Without Men: An Illustrated Guide to Amazing Women Artists. It’s a version of my 2022 book for adults – a play on EH Gombrich’s The Story of Art, which failed to mention a single woman until Käthe Kollwitz was added to its 16th edition. However, this book is really designed for readers of all ages. It is brought to life with beautiful illustrations by Ping Zhu that complement a wide range of artwork from across the globe, shaping the last 500 years of art history.
There are new chapters, such as one about the dazzling world of First Nations Art in Australia, inspired by the recent Emily Kam Kngwarray exhibition at Tate Modern in London. The book is also highly interactive. Each chapter is centred on a movement and features an “art task” that, I hope, will not only help my reader understand how a work might relate to their life, but encourage them to make their own version of what they are reading about.
When discussing the 17th-century Flemish painter Clara Peeters – known for hiding self-portraits in her still lifes, to make sure no man claimed her work as his own – I ask my reader to conceal a self-portrait in a picture of something else. In the chapter that introduces the postwar world of abstract expressionism, which also had an impact on literature, I ask my reader to make a drawing to accompany their favourite poem. Or get a friend to write one and together think about what colours you might use to capture it – just like Joan Mitchell and James Schuyler did. Likewise, my reader is encouraged to make “wish trees”, in the manner of Yoko Ono, or turn their favourite singer or actor into a pop art image. I hope the book will be a great tool for teachers wanting to integrate art into their classrooms, too.
Painter Joan Mitchell, 1991. Photograph: David Turnley/Corbis/VCG/Getty Images
Georgia O’Keeffe, before venturing to New York City and finding fame, taught art in the public school system in Amarillo, Texas. According to her biographer Roxana Robinson, O’Keeffe, far from taking an authoritarian approach, “brought to the study of art a clarity and an attention that the students found exhilarating”. The book emulates her inclusive approach to art education, whatever someone’s background or knowledge. As O’Keeffe once said: “I enjoyed teaching people who had no particular interest in art.”
We are lucky in the UK to have free entry to museums’ permanent collections. So let’s not only get young people reading about and looking at art in books, but into museums, too. If a young person says they have no interest in art, then let’s widen the focus to art history, an umbrella that covers many different subjects. What if there’s a painting of your favourite author or musician? Or an artwork that deals with technology or the environment?
So if you are keen for your child to partake in the National Year of Reading, why not start with art? It’s an activity that families can do together, at very little cost. That was my way in, as the youngest sibling whose eldest sister encouraged me to get the tube with her and draw what we found. I’m hoping that 2026 will be the year that young people of all backgrounds feel welcome in museum spaces, can find that book for them, rediscover the joy of reading – and have the sensation of Cassatt’s Young Girl Reading.
Books and art stimulate the mind. They get us to dream, to imagine worlds beyond our realm, transport us through time, teach us about other people in a way that inadvertently teaches us about ourselves. Above all, they show us that the human imagination is a superpower no machine can replace.
