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The Affordances of the Medium: A Comparative Mixed-Method Study of an On-Site and Online Shared Reading Group for People with Cancer Cover

The Affordances of the Medium: A Comparative Mixed-Method Study of an On-Site and Online Shared Reading Group for People with Cancer

Open Access
|Sep 2025

Full Article

Introduction

Over the past decade, digital platforms have begun to complement physical encounters, and we log on to Zoom, Skype or Teams to participate in various meetings and activities. This move was intensified and accelerated due to the lockdown during the COVID-19 pandemic, as schools, libraries and other public venues had to close their doors and were forced to consider digital possibilities for providing services and hosting events. Also, the use of telehealth increased significantly during the pandemic, and healthcare services, such as group therapy interventions, moved online using video-conference platforms. These online alternatives were crucial for everyone affected by staying indoors and being isolated for longer periods of time. Patients with a low immune system were extra exposed to the virus and were particularly at risk of isolation and depression.

One type of event that went online was Shared Reading (SR), a reading group activity developed and practised within the UK-based Get into Reading (GIR) program. Research suggests that SR has a positive effect on quality of life and mental health (Billington et al., 2014; Dowrick et al., 2012; Gray et al., 2016; Longden et al., 2015, 2016; Robinson, 2008). It is characterised by 1) reading aloud a short prose text followed by a poem, 2) the presence of a trained facilitator or ‘Reader Leader’ (RL) and 3) group interaction (Dowrick et al., 2012). A SR session typically lasts 90 minutes and ideally involves 5–8 participants and a RL reading aloud and guiding the conversation. The short stories and poems are presented to the group in the session, and not beforehand, which makes SR a ‘live’ reading experience (J. Davis, 2009). During the reading aloud, the RL makes two to three stops in the text, providing room for an open discussion where group members share thoughts, ideas, and associations related to the text with a focus on their reading experience and personal engagement. Importantly, SR invites an open way to explore literary texts since the RL does not aim towards a specific way of understanding or interpreting the text but recognises all contributions as equally valid. Thus, relating personally to the texts read makes SR a reading practice that can open conversations about life and lived experiences (Robinson, 2008). The purpose of SR is personal growth and enjoyment of literature rather than an academic approach to the texts. However, although there are no therapeutic predetermined goals, the activity may still have therapeutic outcomes (Billington et al., 2013).

The study examines both an on-site and an online SR group for cancer patients, exploring their potential as sources of psychosocial support. It was assumed that by discussing ‘life and lived experiences’ through short stories and poems SR might help cancer patients cope with their illness and provide a sense of community or togetherness. Numerous SR studies have been carried out in health settings, for various patient groups, and findings suggest improvement in mental, cognitive, social, and psychological well-being (Billington et al., 2010). However, none of these studies have included an online group. Online opportunities could be beneficial in health settings where inexpensive, psychosocial support is much needed (Gordon et al., 2011; Grassi et al., 2012; Tack et al., 2022), particularly for patients where an online option may be preferable to on-site, due to limited mobility and fluctuating well-being. Therefore, we will explore the potential of online SR in a healthcare setting to better understand how the medium’s affordances (as defined below) influence engagement during an SR session.

Although the potential advantages of online SR (and related bibliotherapeutic programs) may have been in the pipeline for some time, the drastically reduced possibilities for physical encounters during the lockdown following the COVID-19 pandemic triggered a transition to digital alternatives. Face-to-face meetings were replaced by digital meetings via Zoom or similar platforms, and various types of cultural events appeared in a digital format, as music performers, artists, museum curators and theatre directors explored possibilities to engage in and experience cultural events in front of screens at home (see e.g., Burke et al., 2020; Houlihan & Morris, 2022). Many SR groups also moved online, typically using platforms such as Zoom where the RL would share the text on screen while reading it aloud.

The transition from physical encounters and engagement in various social events, to a virtual meeting space, invites many intriguing questions about the medium’s role and its affordances in interpersonal communication and socio-emotional group dynamics in an event such as SR. Coined by J.J. Gibson (1979), “affordances” denote the opportunities for interaction that an object, such as a medium, provides. Skjerdingstad and Tangerås (2019) have applied the term to SR by characterising SR as an “affordance nest” that enables readers’ engagement with literature and meaning-making in a transpersonal space. In the present context, the concept of affordances is particularly relevant as referring to the ways in which the substrate of paper allows for, or affords, different ways of handling, navigating, and engaging with a text, than a digital screen display, for instance when turning pages (see e.g., Hillesund et al., 2022; Mangen, 2016).

SR is a live event facilitated by an RL, and precisely, its “liveness” is considered pivotal to its potential experiential impact where unpredictability and deviations occur and should be encouraged (Longden et al., 2015). Hence, a systematic investigation of how this aspect may be affected by the affordances of the medium is needed. A few recent studies have begun addressing some of these issues (Blundell & Poole, 2023; Fagerlid & Vannes, 2022; Gustafsson et al., 2022), looking at collaborative meaning-making processes, joint attention and characteristics of online SR. Still, many other aspects of the role of the medium in SR have yet to be addressed empirically. This research gap motivated the present study: What happens with the dialogue around the texts read aloud in SR when the participants sometimes must mute/unmute when they speak and when they are represented as faces on a two-dimensional screen instead of sitting together in a physical space? How may the digital medium’s affordances impact facilitation and the role of the RL, the socio-emotional facets of the group dynamic and meaning-making processes in the session? In the present study, we address such questions in a mixed method design by combining session transcript data and reported experiences from the two types of SR sessions to examine structural and socio-emotional differences and similarities between online and on-site SR.

Literature review

While there is not much research comparing the impact of on-site and online SR, a few studies have explored the nature and potential of specifically online SR. A Swedish study (Gustafsson et al., 2022) focused on features of verbal interaction, reading strategies, and collaborative meaning-making in an online SR group. Applying theories of joint attention (e.g., Eilan, 2005; Moll & Meltzoff, 2011) and combining transcripts from a video-recorded online SR group with focus group data (also online), the authors identified recurrent themes revolving around the participants’ socio-emotional interaction during the SR session and their experiences as voiced in the focus group. The participants in Gustafsson et al.’s (2022) study pointed to “joint attention”, that is, the ability to focus on an object or event while at the same time being aware that another person is doing the same (Tomasello, 1995), as one of the advantages of an online group. However, as noted by the authors, this experience could also be related to the fact that, when the participants were all jointly attending the text being read, the proximity of their faces on the screen could create the sense that they were looking at each other (p. 122). Finally, the participants in this study had limited, if any, experience with physical SR groups, and the researchers did not have data from physical SR groups.

Focusing on the role of digital technology in creating a safe space for connection and reflection, Blundell and Poole (2023) explored whether attending a shared reading group may improve individual and community well being, and whether a digital platform could be an effective way to replicate the connectedness of a face-to-face group. They found that the nature of an online space seemed to make it more challenging for the facilitator of the group to foster a safe, nurturing and democratic environment, because

The facilitator is not in control of the environment in the same way as they might be in a physical space […]. Building a safe and trusting environment has been seen to be more challenging in the online environment, where many of the non-verbal elements of communication are missing, and where connecting with and caring for participants is difficult. (Blundell & Poole, 2023, p. 207)

In the article entitled “Quality of life and low-threshold dialogues around literature in the year that did not count”, Fagerlid and Vannes (2022) report some experiences from nine online SR groups on Zoom during the pandemic (spring 2021) from session transcripts and field notes, and interviews with 14 participants. In their sample, some had participated in physical and digital SR groups before the lockdown, whereas others had only experiences from digital SR groups. Their findings indicate that the participants experienced a strong sense of presence and immersion during the reading, something the authors relate to the role of sound being more prominent in online SR groups compared to physical groups. In the latter, sound has to compete with all the other sensory modalities during the reading, such as the flipping of paper pages, the body language of the other participants and the RL, and other aspects of the physical surroundings. In an online group, there are usually no other sounds or noise in the surroundings that interrupt or disturb the voice of the one person speaking, provided the non-speaking participants have muted their microphones and that the audio rendition in the digital platform works well. Several participants also highlight the slowed-down pace of the reading; it is experienced as a type of “grounding” (p. 346) that one participant compares with meditation.

In addition, the participants described subtle variances in their experience of engaging in the dialogue in an online group compared to a physical group. The authors refer to the phenomenon of “Zoom fatigue” (e.g., Bailenson, 2021; Nadler, 2020; Wiederhold, 2020) to explain differences. Zoom fatigue refers to a feeling of exhaustion which is attributed to the rapid increase in the use of video conferencing following the move of study- and work-related meetings, seminars, and lectures from face-to-face encounters to digitally mediated alternatives. Online meetings require more concentration and focus to interpret non-verbal information such as facial expressions, tone and pitch, body language, and gestures. Moreover, there is a tiny delay in the transmission of the digital signal, which may make it more difficult to sense the appropriate temporality of turn-taking (when is it appropriate to take a turn; when is another speaker “done” and it is fine to interrupt and engage in the discussion). When on a screen, with your camera turned on, you are constantly being confronted with your face and appearance, which can be fatiguing; the same pertains to the sense of being stared at by other faces, all on the same two-dimensional flat screen. There is always the opportunity to shut off the camera; however, this may bring about an uncanniness on behalf of those with the camera turned on, who may be left feeling exposed and observed by someone unknown.

Importantly, Fagerlid and Vannes (2022) point to the fact that not only the dialogue and talking but also the silence and the shared experience of being silent together may feel different in a physical group compared to an online group. The physical format may entail a stronger sense to commit, which may, in turn, result in a stronger feeling that someone needs to say something. At the same time, engaging in dialogue may feel more complicated and less intuitive online than in person.

The present study has several similarities with both Fagerlid and Vannes (2022) and Gustafsson et al. (2022), but our unique contribution lies in providing a quantitative conversation analysis combined with in-depth observations on 17 session transcripts (on-site group = 9, online group = 8) from a health setting. Moreover, our sample included one person who had participated in both online and on-site SR, thus allowing a comparison between the two types of sessions. Given that skilful and mindful facilitation of the dialogue and interaction in SR sessions are key to its impact (Steenberg et al., 2021), the particular role and facilitation of RLs have not been adequately addressed in research on SR, irrespective of the medium. To address this gap, our study also includes data from an online RL with extensive experience in organizing on-site SR, allowing her to compare her own facilitation practices. These data invite further exploration of the role of the medium for their facilitation of the group, as well as their experience of the dialogue and group dynamic.

Summing up, our overall research question is: How does the medium impact the nature of Shared Reading sessions? Here, we especially explore practices, challenges, and outcomes related to facilitation, participation, and group dynamics. In addition, we examine how the medium might impact the processes of joint and subjective meaning-making of literary texts.

Material and methods

Organisation of the reading groups

The online and on-site SR group (with different participants in the groups) met weekly for two hours for 12 weeks, which was extended with an additional four weeks for the participants who wished to continue. In the extension period, three new participants joined the on-site group. They met from September 2021 to January 2022, partly during the COVID-19 pandemic lockdown in Norway. The physical meetings took place at a local cancer organisation. The online meetings were hosted by a hospital library using the secured video platform Whereby. The researcher took part in both groups as an observing participant.

The reading groups were organised in line with the program developed by The Reader (The Reader, n.d.), in which participants read and discuss one prose text and one poem together. In the on-site group, the participants received a paper copy in hand upon arrival at the venue, whereas in the online group, the RL shared the text on the screen, and the text was read on the spot. None of the texts were known to the participants before the session. Hence, there was a low threshold for participation since they did not require any preparation at home. In addition, the participants were not obligated to speak or engage in the dialogue if they did not choose to; in line with the SR method, they could just come and listen. During the reading, the RL paused at particular places in the text for exploration and invited an open discussion of the section read, focusing on the participants’ experiences. The online RL encouraged the online participants to be unmuted and have their cameras on but also communicated that it was up to them to decide. Participants mainly had chosen to have their cameras on and were unmuted when possible. However, technical issues with echo (when multiple people were speaking) made it sometimes necessary to mute. Additionally, some participants had their cameras off while listening to the reading aloud and turned them on again during the discussion.

Participants

A total of 12 women from 22 to 69 years old (M = 51) consented to participate in the study (on-site group: N = 8, online group: N = 4, see Table 1). Over the period the reading group met, they worked part-time, were on sick leave, or had retired. The participants found themselves in various stages of cancer treatment: some were undergoing chemotherapy or other types of treatment; others had just completed their treatment and were coping with the associated side effects, and some were reliant on life-prolonging medication. Notably, the participants in the online group faced more challenging prognoses or had been recently diagnosed. This circumstance underscored the significance of the online format, as it accommodated their inability to attend physical reading groups due to their health conditions, limited energy and thus compromised mobility.

Table 1

List of participants.

PARTICIPANTGROUP
ElenaOn-site (1–16) + 2 sessions online)
MartaOn-site (session 1–16)
AliceOn-site (1–12)
TillyOn-site (1–6)
SusanneOn-site (1–16)
BobbyOn-site (session 12–16)
MariaOn-site (session 12–16)
AmberOn-site (session 12–16)
RachelOnline (1–16)
MollyOnline (1–16)
LisaOnline (4–16)
ReeseOnline (6–16)

Participants were recruited via flyers and social media in collaboration with cancer organisations, coordinators, and cancer nurses in Norway. The selection criteria were adults (18+) with a cancer diagnosis who could understand Norwegian. We aimed for broad recruitment to be inclusive in our sample, avoiding specific diagnosis requirements due to SR’s novelty and the pandemic, and these circumstances made the recruitment more challenging. Although the participants did not necessarily share a common diagnosis, there was a mutuality when it came to the experience of treatment procedures, hospital meetings, and the experience and emotional impact of receiving a cancer diagnosis, regardless of its specific nature. Two participants withdrew during the study, one from each group (see Appendix 2 with background information on participants and table of session attendance rate), because of limited time and energy.

Reader Leaders

Both groups were facilitated by librarians with RL certification. There were in total three RL’s: on-site RL facilitating session 1–12, another on-site RL from session 12–16, and one online RL facilitating session 1–16. Since the two groups had different RLs, a key limitation of the study is the added difficulty in comparing them and isolating the influence of medium affordances. In addition, their prior experience with SR also varied: the online RL had been running groups for several years and training other RL’s in Norway. The two others were novice RL’s and had one year experience with one or two prior groups. Since the online RL had extensive experience with on-site SR sessions, it enabled her to share insights of how the medium might have impacted her facilitation. She had, for example, previously facilitated on-site SR groups for patients at the hospital library.

Texts

The texts read in SR are usually one short story, or an extract from a novel, followed by one poem. The RL selected texts for the sessions that personally engaged them since, in their experience, personal engagement was necessary for the RLs to facilitate engagement in the sessions. The texts were not about cancer, as the researcher and the RLs wanted to give the participants some distance from their illness. However, it did not hinder participants from reading their illness experiences into the texts we read, and importantly, they made these links themselves. The texts read in the two groups were not the same (see Appendix 1 for the text selection).

Data collection

The data consists of 31 audio-recorded sessions, where 17 sessions got transcribed (online: 8, on-site: 9), field notes from participant observation, focus group interviews with both groups, an individual interview with the participant from the on-site group who also participated in four sessions of the online group, and an interview with the online RL.

The first author conducted participant observation during 15 of 16 sessions in both groups to gain firsthand and embodied insight into the group dynamics and the SR practice. This continued presence was essential to establish trust between the participants and the researcher. The aim of including focus groups was to know more about how the participants experienced the different components of the reading group (the RL, the group discussions, the group, reading aloud, and the texts). In the online group, some of the questions addressed their experience of the online setting. However, since the participants in the online group did not have any experience with on-site SR from before, they could not compare their experience. The participants’ lack of awareness of the potential impact of the medium might be a ‘blind spot’ in the data as they, from the beginning, may have become used to, for instance, reading the text on the screen. Therefore, we decided to invite the participants in the on-site group to join the online group for the last two sessions, resulting in one participant from the on-site group, Elena (fictious name), attending two online sessions that were recorded and two additional sessions after the study had ended since the group continued. Elena is the only participant in our sample with experience from on-site and online SR sessions. However, the researcher had observations from both groups and could compare these. In addition, the online RL had extensive experience facilitating on-site SR groups which she could compare to her experience in the online group.

Focus groups versus individual interviews

An advantage of focus group interviews is that the group setting enables participants to express a wide range of views, creating a stimulating discussion where ideas are built on or challenged (Litosseliti, 2003). However, participants may also be influenced by the opinions of others and, as a consequence, suppress conflicting ideas in the wish to stay aligned with the dominant opinions. Moreover, the group setting does not leave room for in-depth exploration of individual perspectives. These dynamics might have influenced the focus group interview data. Nevertheless, familiarity among participants from prior sessions may have encouraged freer sharing of experiences. In contrast, individual interviews allow for more personal experiences and in-depth answers. While only one individual participant interview informed the role of the medium, a participant from the online group interviewed for another purpose briefly noted the online format made her feel “modern” (an elderly participant) and expressed gratitude for the opportunity to participate. Her other responses, focused on reading experiences, were detailed and personal, suggesting openness in the interview context. The limited response regarding the medium might reflect a lack of participants’ prior consideration of its influence.

Transcriptions of reading sessions

The sessions were transcribed verbatim by a university student who was a native Norwegian speaker. They were transcribed systematically using a transcription key (see Table 2). Since there was a large amount of data, and we aimed to look for overall structures to compare the transcripts, the transcription key mainly focused on turn-taking, emotional responses, interruptions, and silences in the dialogues and did not include a detailed conversation analysis with information on, for example, emphasis, pronunciation, speed, volume, and pitch.

Table 2

Transcription key.

TRANSCRIPTION KEY
Pxx = the number identifying the participant who is speaking
LThe RL
FThe researcher
Used for silences under 5 seconds during a turn or when a sentence is left unfinished (‘hangings’)
=Used when someone interrupts the person speaking
(laughing)/(crying)/(sniffing)Used when a participant expresses audible emotional responses individually and in the group (group laughter)
(5s)Silences over 5 sec. are marked in the transcription, including the length of the silence

We were especially interested in identifying longer silences because the first author observed that silences occurring in the group discussions, especially in the on-site group, could become quite protracted (up to 46 sec.). Thus, in the transcripts, silences with a length of over 5 seconds are marked, including the length of the silence. The shorter silences (…) we did not explore in this study since the transcripts did not indicate any noticeable differences in the two groups. However, this could be further explored in future research if the occurrence of unfinished sentences, identified as “hangings” (Davis et al., 2016), is equally present in on-site and online groups.

Data analysis

We extracted quantitative data from a total of 17 session transcripts (see Appendix 3 for a table of the data or Table 3 under “Findings”). These comprised nine session transcripts from the on-site group, including six transcripts which covered both the prose and poetry parts of a session, two transcripts containing only the prose part, and one transcript containing only the poem part. From the online group, there are eight session transcripts, of which five cover both the prose and poetry part, and the remaining three only cover the poem part. The reason for this selection is that the sessions had been transcribed for another study that investigated transformative reading experiences (Andersen & Hakemulder, 2024); therefore, these were the session transcripts we had available.

Table 3

Table of counting elements and an overview of quantitative data.

ON-SITENUMBER OF PARTICIPANTS=(LAUGHTER) GROUP(LAUGHING) INDIVIDUAL(SNIFFING)(CRYING)… (SILENCES >5 SEC)(Xs) SILENCES < 5 SECLONGEST SILENCESILENCES AFTER READING ALOUD IN SEC
Session 15103363502011116s16 (P),15 (L),12 (L),9 (L), 6 (L)
Session 34265487404141319s6 (P), 16 (L), 19 (P), 7 (P), 0 (L), 10 (P), 0 (P)
Session 5 (short story)5152275402442426s21 (P), 11 (P), 9 (L), 26 (L)
Session 64337347924601117s17 (L), 9 (P), 7 (P), 0 (P), 5 (P), 7 (P), 0 (L)
Session 8 (short story)27424702173029s15 (P), 29 (L), 26 (P), 10 (P), 0 (P)
Session 10214838602906235s0 (P), 6 (P), 0 (P), 8 (L), 8 (P), 0 (P)
Session 12 (poem)4583220521822s8 (L), 0 (P), 0 (P)
Session 136155398802845724s9 (L), 13 (P), 0 (P), 24 (L)
Session 156105155302343843s25 (P), 22 (P), 0 (P), 0 (L), 8 (P)
ONLINENUMBER OF PARTICIPANTS=(LAUGHTER) GROUP(LAUGHING) INDIVIDUAL(SNIFFING) (CRYING)… (SILENCES >5 SEC)(Xs) SILENCES < 5 SECLONGEST SILENCESILENCES AFTER READING ALOUD
Session 12222601181223s0 (L), 0 (L), 7 (L), 6(L), 23(L), 5 (L)
Session 3 (poem)114280602221s0 (L), 15 (L)
Session 632401011923339s0 (L), 7 (L), 9 (L), 0 (L), 7 (L) 0(L), 6(L), 7(P)
Session 73200601873023s13 (L), 0 (L), 0 (L), 5 (L), 0 (L)
Session 834902401823733s0 (L), 6 (L), 0 (L), 33 (L), 0 (L), 21 (L), 11 (L)
Session 12 (poem)12808060631s7 (L), 31 (P)
Session 13 (poem)22600080814s0 (L), 12 (P)
Session 143231170142819s0 (L), 6 (P), 7 (L), 0 (L), 19 (L)

Second, we analysed the data using descriptive statistics applied to Conversation Analysis (CA) and qualitative methods. CA is a methodological framework and a theoretical perspective that systematically examines the structure and organisation of talk and written communication in everyday social interactions (Sacks & Jefferson, 1992). Third, we further explored differences and similarities indicated by the quantitative data qualitatively to get an idea of recurrent patterns in the data. Thus, the study is a mixed method design specifically using a triangulation design (Creswell & Plano Clark, 2006) with the aim “to obtain different but complementary data on the same topic” (Morse, 1991, p. 122), hence allowing us to combine the strengths of both quantitative and qualitative methods to compare on-site and online SR sessions in a complementary manner. The quantitative and qualitative data converged at different points. When analysing the data, we explored quantitative data qualitatively, and in the results, we brought quantitative and qualitative results together for a more nuanced understanding. An example of convergence in the data analysis would be that the quantitative data on silences did not differ much in duration and number. However, an in-depth, qualitative exploration of the individual silences in their context revealed differences related to, e.g., what caused this or that particular silence, what function it seemed to serve, and who was speaking before and after the particular instance of silence.

The importance of the RL’s facilitation in an SR session (Steenberg et al., 2021) motivated a closer look at the role of the RL and how it may be differently enacted in an on-site and online session. As mentioned above, we recognize the limitation of using different RLs, as their facilitation styles and preferences may vary. For example, during the participatory observation, the researcher noticed that the online RL spoke more in the sessions than the on-site RL did. This motivated a close examination of the pattern of turn-taking and the occurrence of periods of silence in the two types of sessions. Identifying the percentage coverage of each speaker in each session was performed in the coding software NVivo by attributing a code to each speaker in a transcript and creating a chart (see generated charts in appendix 4) to visualise how much of the transcribed dialogues in a session is coded into the various speakers (the participants, the researcher, and the RL). For that reason, the reading-aloud part of the prose text was not transcribed since we were interested in the speaking percentage of only the group discussions. The poems were included in the transcription because having them in the transcripts was practical, and all of them were short.

In general, the quantitative data are estimates. For the interruptions and silences, we have subtracted the ones occurring outside the group discussions (so not including the ones happening during ‘chit-chat’ in the breaks or at the beginning and end) as we were mainly interested in the conversation structures when discussing the text being read. There are limitations to this design since there is not necessarily a clear cut between breaks and group discussions. For emotional and non-verbal responses, we have not subtracted any parts in the transcriptions as we were interested in getting an insight into the overall group dynamics.

Next, the observations from the session transcripts are triangulated with the field notes from the researcher’s observations, interview data from the participants in the online and on-site sessions, and an interview with the online RL. Altogether, the various types of data supplement each other to shed further light on what happened in the sessions and how the medium’s affordances may have impacted aspects of the participants’ and the RL’s experience differently.

Ethics

This study was reviewed and approved by the Norwegian Research Ethics Review Board and the Regional Competence Center for Clinical Research. In an online setting additional support could be necessary, as participants may face increased vulnerability when being alone. In addition, facilitators may encounter difficulties in managing discussions on sensitive topics. Therefore, it was important for the study that the online RL had prior experience with leading groups for patients. To provide extra support for the online participants, she offered to remain available after the sessions in case the participants felt uncomfortable or sad. The names used in this article for referring to participants are fictitious.

Findings

Given the limited possibilities for making direct comparisons, as discussed above, and the inherent nature of qualitative research, drawing causal inferences about the medium’s effect is not feasible. Instead, we focus here on identifying patterns across different data types that indicate how the medium might, under some conditions, affect the socio-emotional dynamics and communication among participants in an SR session. To do this, we looked at the frequencies of certain elements in the transcripts (see Table 2). In addition to the elements included in the transcription key, we explored the silences after the RL finished reading aloud a text passage and highlighted these silences under “silences after reading aloud” (see Table 3) to get insight into the differences between the online and on-site group in terms of length, since the researcher had noticed these differences during participant observation. We also explored whether it was the RL or a participant (P) who spoke after the silence and added this information in brackets. If the silence is shorter than 5 seconds it is noted with ‘0’. Apart from counting the silences, the longest silence during each session is also highlighted in the table to compare the online and on-site sessions.

In what follows, we will present the most salient findings through the lens of “medium affordances”, starting with differences relating to the co-presence of participants in an online versus an on-site group. Next, we zoom in on elements pertaining to the display, access, sharing and reading of the texts – on a screen in the online case, and on paper handouts in the on-site group. Thereafter, we devote one sub-section of findings to facilitation practices, looking at how the various phases of the RL’s facilitation may be affected differently in an online versus an on-site group. This aspect is, in turn, explored in light of two key dynamics in SR, namely, silences and turn-takings. Wrapping up the findings section, we present some salient observations relating to participation, group dynamics, the overall structure of the dialogues and how these seem to be affected by the affordances of the medium. Through these analyses we hope to reveal how the affordances may impact the various aspects of SR, going from how the nature of the venue is to how the text is shared and to experiences of community and social space.

Physical vs. virtual venue

A fundamental and obvious difference between meeting other people in real life and meeting them online is that between virtual (or digitally mediated) and physical co-presence. In the on-site group, the participants left their homes and came physically to the location of the cancer organisation. They met in a shared physical space with full access to the physical and multisensory presence of the other people in the room. In the focus groups, the on-site participants appreciated the possibility of getting out of the house, meeting, and socialising with others to get a rhythm and new input in their daily lives. The appreciation stemmed from being on sick leave, which involved spending a lot of time at home, making the days feel long and monotonous. In the online group, they participated in a shared digital space from the comfort of their current location, and the participants appreciated the high flexibility this offered them — the participants connected from their homes, an office, in transport, or at the hospital. Theoretically, they could join from any place with an internet connection and a device for connecting which was beneficial for the online participants as they had fluctuating health, many medical appointments and were afraid of being infected by COVID-19.

The shared digital space was constructed from the participants’ individual physical spaces, often a part of the living room, sofa area, or bed, which the video, if it was on, showed partly. Thus, the video provided a window into the participants’ personal and individual spaces, which adds a sense of intimacy to online SR that might differ from when people meet in a public place. Occasionally, the participants’ individual spaces may interfere with the shared digital space: a plate may fall on the floor, creating noise and catching the others’ attention, or the doorbell or telephone rings, and others, including pets, may enter the room inadvertently, and be caught on camera.

The participants’ surroundings can also influence the atmosphere in the group. Rachel, for example, sometimes connected from the hospital while she was receiving chemotherapy. The view into the participants’ private spaces created a feeling of an intimate presence or moment that also opened for emotional and personal sharings:

“When I have been sitting in treatment and haven’t felt quite well, it becomes very unnatural not to say anything, right? (…) If you are very restless and very worried, and it shows in the reading group, I think it is a great advantage if you can express that: ‘Now I am waiting for a message, this is very difficult,’ right? That you have that space. And I feel that has been the case here in this group.” (Rachel, online focus group).

Nevertheless, the participants only had two-dimensional, audiovisual access to the shared digital space. Due to muting and the fixed camera angle, the access to the other participants’ voices and body language was restricted. Thus, the difference in co-presence may have implications for each participant’s mode of involvement, as well as for the ways in which the participants are present and available for each other.

Displaying and accessing text on paper vs. on screen: Autonomy and engagement

This section explores the differences between presenting and reading the texts on screen and paper. Most importantly, these differences pertain to the participants’ access to the text during the reading and to the RL’s options for sharing the text with the participants. In the on-site group, the participants had a paper copy of the text. They could physically engage with the text as they wished: turn the pages, write notes, or draw doodles on it, underline sentences, or move it closer to their eyes when looking at a particular word or sentence. During the reading aloud, the participants mainly looked down at their text copies to follow. However, from time to time, they would move their gaze to their surroundings, gaze out of the window, or place the text on the table and close their eyes to enjoy being read to. Hence, having and holding the text on paper may have given the participants a sense of autonomy in the reading so that they could freely navigate the text as they wished. They could more easily skim parts of the text during the group discussion, and often, they would take on the role of a co-facilitator, bringing a passage, sentence, or word in the text to the group’s attention by reading it aloud.

In the online group, the RL shared the text using the share-screen option in the Whereby meeting platform. Hence, the online participants were required to follow the text at the pace presented, as they could not access it themselves. When the participants in the online group looked at the text, their gaze was directed at the display of the text on the screen, appearing next to the display of the other participants’ faces (unless they had turned off the camera), possibly creating a feeling of joint attention (Gustafsson et al., 2022). Rachel said in the focus group that she mostly closed her eyes and listened to the RL’s reading aloud of the text, and if she then fell out of the story, she had the text on a screen as a support.

The main difference between the online and the on-site group was that the participants could not physically engage with the text. Unlike the on-site group, the online RL was totally “in charge”, so to speak, of the pace with which the reading unfolded. If, at some point during the reading, any of the participants felt the need to return to a specific location in the text, to slow down, or to reread sections of the text, they had to ask the RL explicitly to do this. For Elena, the lack of physical engagement triggered a sense of distance to the text. She felt that viewing the text on the screen was confusing and it made it more challenging to navigate:

Yes, I feel perhaps that it was… [difficult] Yes. Or going back and, no, where did I see this, where did I read… True, if you flip through, it’s just like you can… But then you should typically refer to… When we’re sitting [in the on-site group], we can, yes, it’s on page 46, for example. Then, it’s easy to flip it up for the others as well. But when you’re sitting there [online], you’re supposed to kind of scroll, or she who is reading is supposed to scroll up… (Elena, interview, 26:58)

Elena’s comparative observation of the differences between an online and on-site session reflects a feeling of compromised autonomy that may have been an issue in the online setting. In addition, the differences in access to the text may have implications for the social and emotional dynamic and exchange during the dialogues in SR. The co-presence online is two-dimensional and disembodied, lacking the multisensory and embodied co-presence of other people sharing the same space in real-time.

Text-type

Affordances of the medium of text presentation, i.e., a computer screen versus paper handouts, may also impact the type of text considered appropriate for a live reading event, like SR, concerning textual parameters such as length, complexity, and structure. In the on-site group, the texts used varied in length. In comparison, the online RL used very brief prose texts (ideally a maximum of five pages) to help the participants get a better overview, avoid too much scrolling, and allow enough time to read and discuss the text. Since the RL shared the text on the screen, reading somewhat longer text seemed to cause more confusion. Given their condition, all the participants (whether in the online or on-site group) were challenged when following stories that did not have a chronological structure. The texts that worked well in an online setting, according to the online RL, were short texts that were rich in multisensory imagery and described a concrete situation in a poetic and associative language inviting an “lucidity of imagining” (Skjerdingstad & Tangerås, 2019) which is defined as a type of embodied identification where the participants expand the imagery with their personal and lived experiences (p. 10). The online RL believed the poems worked best in this regard, and she gave an example with the poem “Betring” [recovery]: “It is almost like a physical experience if you really go into that image. It is a physical experience of walking on that grass in the night, and there is light just there, and it is dark around you. It is a powerful experience…” (35:11, interview). While plausibly related to the medium’s affordances, the alleged suitability of such texts for online SR groups might also reflect the preference of this RL.

Facilitation and role of the RL

Overall, looking at how the RLs facilitated the text and the discussions in the groups, some interesting differences emerged. Concretely, the on-site RL took on the role of an initiator of the discussions and co-participant in the group, involving a less pronounced reader leader role. This way of facilitating led to more room for the participants’ thoughts and ideas, which made the reading of the text and the discussions more based on the input from the participants and less explicitly guided by the RL. In comparison, the online RL took on more of the role of a mediator of the text and constant moderator of the discussion, where she was more present in leading the discussion and mediating the text’s meaning to the group. In this group, the participants did not readily engage in the discussions at the beginning, which caused the RL, as she explained in the interview, a more extensive and explicit effort to get the conversation going. In her impression, the medium’s affordances required her to be more present during the discussion. This is reflected in the session transcripts, where we can see she responds to all the participants’ input and helps connect these. Thus, the reading of the text became more explicitly guided. In the following sections, we will look closer at facilitation practices in various stages.

‘Getting in’

One essential aspect of facilitation is to get the participants engaged (“getting in”: Davis et al., 2016). This relates to opening the text for the group members and keeping them engaged. Differences in how the text is displayed on a screen compared to on paper and the participants’ presence (virtual or physical) may have implications for this aspect of facilitation.

The online RL expressed that it was more difficult to “get the participants into the text” in an online group than in an on-site group. During the reading aloud online, she would pause more frequently for a discussion than she usually had done in physical settings. When the RL paused, she scrolled up to the beginning of the part read aloud and went chronologically through the text. At the beginning of the discussion, she spent more time on the ‘concrete level’ of the text by asking who, where, when, and what questions to help the participants establish a basic comprehension of the text. There was more confusion around the story’s timeline, the characters introduced, and their internal relations. She was uncertain as to whether this was because the participants struggled with concentration due to cancer-related cognitive impairment (Myers, 2012) or if it was a general challenge for online SR. It may have resulted from the compromised degree of autonomy in the reading described in the previous section.

The online RL “pulled the participants into the text” by inviting enactment and highlighting embodied and multisensory aspects of the texts. This helped the participants imagine the setting, and they could ‘place’ their bodies in the text’s universe (Skjerdingstad & Tangerås, 2019, p. 10), making the text more concrete. This facilitation style prompted the online RL to speak in longer ‘blocks’ (when looking at the transcripts), where she would ‘warm up’ the participants by presenting her observations, what she was wondering about, or summarising what we had read. For example, at the end of discussing the short story in session 7 (51:27–55:07), the RL had her longest turn in terms of word count (428 words in four minutes of speaking time). This way of facilitating required more effort for the RL, as she had to continue to talk if the participants did not respond. In the session transcripts, there also seems to be a repeated pattern where the RL spoke most at the beginning of a discussion, and during the middle or end, the participants started to talk in longer ‘blocks’ as well, as the RL had opened the text for them.

In the on-site group, getting the participants into the text was not a challenge for the RL since the participants became engaged in the discussion almost from the beginning. While reading aloud, she paused less frequently than the online RL, and there was no chronological order when discussing the text; the RL or a participant could start in the middle of the part that the RL had read aloud. The RL often initiated the discussion, and after that, the participants took over and talked directly with each other, with only the RL occasionally commenting on or affirming a participant’s input or leading the discussion in a new direction.

Turns and turn-takings

Participating in group discussions with people with whom you share the temporal and spatial correlates of real-world presence is different from participating in discussions online. The session transcripts from the on-site group indicate that the RL took on a less prominent role (average percentage coverage of speaking in the on-site sessions is 22,2%), and the usual turn-taking pattern was RL-P1-P2. Often, a participant would pose a question or share something they were wondering about, thus taking on the role of the facilitator (hence, the turn-taking pattern was P1-P2).

In the online group, since it took longer for the RL to get the participants actively engaged, the RL was generally more active (average percentage coverage of 48.2%) in a session. The conversations went (almost) consistently between a participant and the RL (like this: RL-P1-RL-P2). This pattern broke down in some places when they talked about their illness amongst each other or when the RL asked a question that required a response from each of the participants. However, this only happened a few times (4 times in the eight session transcripts available). This pattern of turn-taking resulted in the online RL feeling she was occupying too much space in the group:

It is difficult for them to talk together. So, I felt that I have… I have occupied more space than I like to do as a Reader Leader. So, I feel that I, right… It is a bit frustrating, I feel I end up in this trap of explaining too much. And that there came too many of my thoughts because the conversation does not build up as it does in a physical group (06:39, interview).

Due to this lack of direct interaction between participants, the RL responded to all the participants’ input and moderated the discussion by connecting their contributions. Although the participants were not responding directly to each other, they still referred to and built on what others had said, but almost always with the RL as a mediator. The RL moderated the discussion by paying attention to when the participants unmuted their microphones. Unmuting was a way to signal that they wanted to say something and were waiting for the right moment to take their turn. Another way to ensure the participation of everyone who wanted to engage in the dialogue was to ask direct questions to the participants, one by one. Asking direct questions in this way is quite unusual in SR as it could undermine the idea of voluntary participation. However, we could observe that this happened in the transcripts of the online group, and from participant observation, presumably because it might be a way to get the participants more engaged.

Silences

In SR, moments of silence are potentially significant (a sign for “emergent thinking”, see: Longden et al., 2015), both during the reading aloud, after finishing reading, before the first question is posed, and in the group discussion. Silence does not necessarily entail discomfort or uncertainty but can give the participants time to find words for what they think and feel, what Skjerdingstad and Tangerås have described as “digestion” (2019, p. 10), and they can be “collective achievements” (p. 12). In addition, such silences that we label “potent” (in contrast to “empty”) might elicit a new thought that brings something new to the discussion. Allowing silence in the room is therefore a pivotal part of the facilitation of the RL, and important empirical questions pertain to whether and how the affordances of the digital medium may affect the silences in a SR session, both quantitatively (their frequency and duration) and qualitatively (their function and characteristics).

The average number of silences over 5 sec. is slightly higher in the on-site group (on-site = 29, online = 19), but the average duration of silence is almost the same (OS = 25,6; OL = 25,3). However, looking closer at the context of the silences in the two groups reveals some interesting differences in how silences are perceived and practised online and on-site. After the RL in the on-site group paused for discussion in the short story or finished reading the poem, there was often a more extended silence before either the RL or a participant spoke. This silence had the function of letting the texts sink in. Steenberg et al. (2021) suggest looking at the response after the silence to assert whether silence is productive – in our parlance, “potent” – or not. In session 15, for example, after reading a poem out loud, a silence of 8 seconds followed before Elena said: “Typical Hans Børli poem, he is really not easy, right. He has a lot of like… It is…” (78:15). She stopped speaking and was silent for 43 seconds, where nobody interrupted her line of thought before she continued speaking and connected the poem to the short story we had read: “But it’s kind of like, as he writes it, it’s a bit like how the boy experienced it. He sorts of walked and sensed in the way he does with nature and… And smells and sees and senses and…” (78:15) Thus, this silence was not empty but gave her time to express a new thought, making the discussion continue. In the on-site group, one of the signs of a “potent” silence of this kind was that the participants turned the pages in the text, reread passages, and generally looked down at the text or around at their surroundings. The RL said that these silences felt comfortable, and she became braver in allowing silences during the reading group.

When looking closely at the transcripts at silences occurring just after reading aloud, there was a noticeable difference between the online and the on-site groups, which might be due to the affordances of the medium and the restricted access to voice and body language in the online setting. When the online RL finished reading aloud, she often immediately initiated the discussion. It was rare that a participant broke the silence after the RL had stopped reading; this happened in only 4 of 37 stops (10.8%) spread over eight online sessions. In comparison, in the on-site group, a participant was the first to speak after the RL had stopped the reading in 30 out of 46 stops (65.2%) during nine sessions. In the online group, when there was more extended silence, the RL found it challenging to know if the silence was empty or potent. To give an example of this challenge, in session six, while discussing a complex poem, the RL talked, trying to help the participants into the poem. While she spoke, she paused three times, the first time for 7s, the second time for 12s, and the third time for 5s, to allow the participants to take a turn, thus inviting the others to take the word. These open places in a turn, which allow entry for a new speaker, Sacks et al. (1978) have termed “Transition-Relevance-Places” (TRP). In general, most of the silences in the online groups seem to be the RL’s TRPs, as they happened during the RL’s ‘blocks’ of speaking. However, going back to the example, as no one accepted her TRPs, she continued to talk. When she finished her turn, there was a silence of 39s., which prompted the RL to share her challenge of reading the participants’ silence in the online space: “When we sit like on this digital meeting, then I can’t hear if something happens inside you [når det knaker i hodet] as when we are sitting around a table. Because then I don’t know whether it is a thinking silence or because this is completely uninteresting” (Session 6, 104:23). Molly responded that her silence was a sign of fatigue, and she decided to leave the session. However, Rachel said she was silent because she was thinking and trying to figure out the poem. The RL read the poem aloud again, and this restarted the discussion. This example illustrates how the medium seems to differently affect the RL’s attempts to establish a space for more prolonged and potent silences in an online setting, compared to in an on-site group, which is further complicated by the participants’ health condition and cognitive challenges.

Participation and group dynamics

Beyond potentially affecting facilitation, the online medium may also impact participants’ distribution of turns and the way they engage with each other verbally and non-verbally.

A first general observation is that participation appeared to be more naturally flowing in the on-site group, whereas it seemed more inhibited in the online group. Illustrative of such a difference, Fagerlid and Vannes (2022) have described the conversation in an online setting by using the word ‘lugger’; it may abruptly halt, and it does not flow as smoothly as in physical settings. This can be related to the challenges in managing turn-takings when muting and unmuting; the participants were careful not to interrupt each other, which is probably why there were very few interruptions online compared to in the on-site group. A consequence might be that not all spontaneous responses were shared in the room. Elena, who had participated in both the on-site and online groups, experienced that something was holding her back when participating in the online group compared to the on-site group: “But there’s something about it, you get that distance when you’re online. It’s unavoidable that you lose a bit of… So, in that sense, you mute, and you’re supposed to talk, and then you talk over someone. It becomes a bit different then” (interview, 26:58).

In contrast, consider Alice’s experience in the on-site group, where she emphasised spontaneity as a key dynamic: “Like, suddenly something comes from someone and then it starts a thinking-process in us, or feelings, and then we talk about it…” (on-site focus group, 89:38). The researcher observed that participants did not share these spontaneous reactions to the same degree or in the same way online, and this observation is supported when looking at the structure of dialogues in the session transcripts. Thus, the notion of “liveness” (Longden et al., 2015) might be more restrained in online SR.

Structure of dialogues and sense of atmosphere

As outlined above, the affordances of the medium may facilitate the establishment of two qualitatively different types of space or atmosphere for SR. In this subsection, we will look closer at what characterises the way of participating and engaging in group discussions in on-site SR versus online SR and how the co-presence in the room (physical or audiovisual) might have implications for the meaning-making built up in the discussions.

Comparing the lengths of the transcripts (number of pages) and the density of the pages (the number of words) seems to suggest that the participants in the on-site group, in general, engaged in more extended dialogues with a higher number of turn-takings and in the online group the discussions are distributed over fewer, but longer turn-takings. In addition, the turn-takings in the on-site group were multidirectional; they went between the participants, whereas the turn-takings online were mostly bidirectional, between the RL and a participant. The structure of the conversations seems to have resulted in a very different group dynamic and atmosphere in the two groups. In general, the researcher sensed from participant observation a more serious, pensive, and focused atmosphere with more dwelling in the online group compared to the on-site group, which was, apart from focused, also humoristic, spontaneous, lively, noisy, and chaotic. In the on-site group, they were finishing each other’s sentences and interrupted turns due to a vibrant dynamic in the room. Counting the sign for interruptions (=) in all the available session transcripts showed that the average number of interruptions in an online session (26,6) was noticeably lower than in an on-site session (185). This difference may not be a surprise, considering that the participants sometimes had to unmute when they wanted to say something, and in general, it was more challenging to read the room and find the right time to talk. Alice, one of the participants in the on-site group, sometimes found it tiring to listen to the readings and follow the discussions, and the more focused atmosphere and chronological readings with a focus on ‘the concrete level’ in the online group might have fitted her needs better.

Overall, the online group had a more structured conversation than the on-site group, as evidenced by the session transcripts. As an example, I will refer to the comparison of session six in both groups: In the on-site group, they read “Dypfrost” by Roald Dahl, and in the online group they read “Filifjonka som trodde på katastrofer” by Tove Jansson. There were four participants in the on-site group and three participants in the online group (see transcripts of the sessions in appendix 5 and 6).

The session transcripts show how the discussion in the on-site group (see appendix 5) is built over many short turn-takings, which makes the conversations dynamic, chaotic, spontaneous, and lively. In the online transcript (see appendix 6), we can observe that the participants and RL generally have longer and fewer turns that are more bidirectional. Obviously, some of these differences are plausibly related to the fact that it is different participants, and the text and number of participants vary in the two groups. Nevertheless, given that this pattern was observed also in other session transcripts and is substantiated by the experience of an ‘inhibited’ versus ‘spontaneous’ dynamic, it is reasonable to assume that the medium may contribute to such differences.

Another noticeable difference that distinguished the two groups in terms of atmosphere was the amount of laughter. Quantifying the instances of group and individual laughter across the two groups shows a considerable difference. In the online group, there was hardly any group laughter in any session (5 instances in total compared to 207 in the on-site group). The same goes for individual speakers laughing (79 instances in the online group), which seems to have occurred much more often in the on-site group (538 instances). However, there might have been more instances in the online group, but these were not captured on the recording if the participants were muted. Another reason might be that the participants in the on-site group got to know each other better and had a stronger sense of community. Laughter might also come easier when the participants are in a shared physical space than in a digitally mediated shared space. Other emotional non-verbal responses (crying and sniffing) were sparse in both groups.

Construction of meaning

Comparing how the participants discussed and created meaning together showed that the on-site group had a more collective meaning-making process, and the online group was also collaborative but more individualised. To illustrate this difference with an example, we can compare sessions 13 (on-site) and 7 (online), where both groups discussed a short story featuring a boy climbing a honeysuckle. In the first break in the story, they discussed for around 10 minutes in each group before the RL continued to read aloud. During these 10 minutes, the on-site group had 150 turn-takings, compared to 23 in the online group. The on-site participants took many turns to build a collective understanding of the part read, and this included a dynamic exchange, exploring various perspectives such as why the boy was climbing in the honeysuckle, the atmosphere, his observations of nature, and clarifying unclear words and sentences. They also shared personal memories connected to the smell of honeysuckles for an olfactory immersion in the story world. In contrast, in the online group, the participants discussed fewer perspectives. However, each participant used a longer time to unfold their reflections. In the session, they mainly discussed the boy’s heightened sensitivity to his surroundings, speculating that a significant life experience shaped his perception and state of mind. While the on-site group touched on a wider range of topics, the online group delved deeper into fewer themes. Overall, in the online group, the process of meaning-making seemed to happen more within the individual, and what is shared in the group is the sum up of that process – which made the responses in the online group more to the point, synthesised, and coherent.

Digital or physical co-presence

In the on-site group, all shared responses and reactions are audible and visible, whereas, in the online setting, these responses can be lost if the participants are muted or have switched off their video. As described by the RL in the interview, she had trouble reading the participants’ non-verbal signals (such as silences) because online encounters are limited to two-dimensional input. Hence, the rest of the human multisensory and embodied co-presence is missing, which may lead to sensory nuances in the participants’ responses being lost. The two-dimensionality of the screen, combined with the muting of the participants, implies that the ongoing “monitoring” of the RL is limited to what she can pick up by only seeing and/or hearing at any particular instant during the session. Sometimes, the online RL could see on the video that a participant reacted to a part in the text, but she could not hear it. In these cases, the RL stopped and asked the participant what they were thinking: “I saw on you, Lisa, that you… normally I don’t pick up on so much over Zoom. I miss sitting around a table, but it was not difficult to see that this hit you… it touched you or you…”, to which Lisa answered: “Yes, I was so relieved. It was a fever dream, and the boy didn’t come back….” (Session 7, online group, 39:41). When the participants’ para-linguistic and embodied reactions, such as laughter, are not naturally shared in the room, a sensory and emotional dimension is missing in the interaction.

The differences between the participants’ embodied and multisensory presence in the shared physical room and the (audio)visual co-location on screen also seemed to influence the build-up of meaning around the text. When the participants could only see a limited part of each other’s bodily reactions, the RL experienced that the meaning-making build-up in the discussion was not as efficient and prosperous as in an on-site group:

Just that situation when one has said something that is powerful and that everyone can’t [respond physically]… You can’t feel that they bend over and turn towards that person, right. And that is a way to acknowledge, strengthen, and encourage them to say more. If you get that response from everyone around a table, and they have received what you have said physically, when that is missing, then something is definitely missing. Something is missing in this build-up of understanding of the text, the build-up of meaning that we practice around a table. (15:48, interview).

Thus, this collective meaning-making process might become weaker in an online setting and make it more difficult for the participants to respond to each other. It could also cause the RL to misread the participants’ emotional states, which is potentially problematic when it is cancer patients who might be feeling unwell or extra vulnerable to emotional triggers. An example of this emerged in the first session when Rachel was in the hospital receiving chemotherapy. While discussing a poem, she shared deeply personal thoughts elicited by the poem and our discussions. She touched her eyes while talking, which the RL interpreted as tearing up because of the personal topic. However, Rachel explained that she was not feeling bad but felt sweaty on her eyelids because of the chemotherapy. Misreadings of this kind are plausibly less likely to occur when people are sitting next to each other, sharing the same physical space and engaging in fully embodied, multisensory interaction and dialogue in real-time, where both explicit and more subtle bodily and sensory cues permeate the communication and shared experience. Explicit communication from the RL to clear any misunderstandings may be a way to handle those moments. In addition, the RL said she was aware of not going too deeply on a personal level and, in general, aware of emotional triggering because it was limited how much support she could provide online.

Depth and richness in readings and discussions

In light of the above findings indicating a stronger tendency to misinterpret socioemotional cues online due to a lack of embodied co-presence, it may seem a surprising observation that the discussions in the online group seemed generally deeper in terms of a closeness to the text and the individual insights derived from the readings both from participants and facilitator. The purpose of SR is to unfold a literary text through intersubjective meaning making processes (Christiansen & Dalsgård, 2023; Fagerlid, 2023). The pendulum movement of reading a text in parts at a slow pace and discussing it along the way supports an in-depth reading. In addition, the collective setting enriches the reading by adding multiple perspectives on the text, broadening its thematic associations. Therefore, in SR, we argue, there are two interrelated directions in the meaning-making process: a horizontal (richness), and vertical (depth). The meaning-making process in SR will always entail both directions, however, in online SR, we argue that a vertical meaning-making process (depth), is more pronounced than a horizontal (richness).

The researcher observed how a text that worked well in the online group, where there were meaningful discussions, would not necessarily open for the same level of depth in the reading in the on-site group. Five texts (two poems and three short stories) were read in both groups. By comparing these sessions, the personal meanings and connections between the individual reader and text seemed to be strengthened when there were fewer social distractions and the reading experience was more guided. This sense of a deeper connection between reader and text in online SR is an observation Fagerlid and Vannes (2022) share. It might be because the online group had a slower pace and more time for dwelling on and processing the text individually while the RL was reading or speaking.

In contrast, the discussions in the on-site group could diverge from the text to a greater degree and take more time to go deeper due to the spontaneity and, in a sense, chaotic nature of the discussion (however, the spontaneity could also bring them deeper very fast, what Skjerdingstad and Tangerås (2019) identify as “touchdowns’ which they define as when one participant brings attention to something striking in the text and the other participants follows). Whether and to what extent these detours brought something new to the reading or moved the participants further away from the text varied. The detours that seemed most fruitful in contributing to the experienced depths, as reported by the participants, brought the participants’ stories and lives into the discussion, which increased and enriched the social space and the readings of the texts in terms of the diversity of topics and experiences brought into the discussion. Thus, in the on-site group, there may have been greater ‘richness’ in the discussions. It should be stressed that in the present context, the terms depth and richness are mainly empirically founded, that is, based on how participants experienced the exchanges, and our impression of them. Richness as we encounter it in the data, may be defined by the diversity and complexity of the topics, perspectives, and interpretive strategies participants used. A rich discussion engages with multiple aspects of the text and participants’ responses, including plot elements, character psychology, stylistic choices, ethical dilemmas, and personal connections. It is also characterized by the extent to which participants create space for multiple, even contradictory, perspectives. Depth, in this research, is also understood as a perception. However, based on our data, it may be more precisely defined as a gradual increase in reflective engagement with the text. A deep conversation moves beyond surface-level understanding and basic comprehension, leading participants toward synthesis, self-evaluation, and existential questioning in relation to the text.

Social space

The differences between the physical co-presence on-site and the digitally mediated co-presence online also impact the social dimension in SR. In the on-site group, there were more opportunities for social interactions. At the beginning of the session, there was a bit of ‘chit-chat’ with coffee and a snack before we started. Sometimes, a participant shared if they had read something or googled the author we read last time. In the middle, we had a five-minute coffee break where there was room for more casual talks, or sometimes, they kept discussing the text we were reading. In the end, the participants left the room more or less together.

In the online group, they arrived and left the group individually. There was a coffee break in the middle, but the participants went separately to get their beverages and were muted until the RL resumed the session. Thus, the social space seems to have been ‘narrower’ online. For instance, Elena experienced the online group as a safe but not a social space. Her experience was that the limited options for social interactions led to less sharing, especially outside the readings and discussions. In the on-site group, they talked about their day and doings, frustrations with the health care system, or dilemmas from their relations or family. They also shared various tips, such as book or music recommendations or hiking routes. The social breaks and the detours in the discussions were essential to create a group feeling, possibly leading to a broader discussion that included more diverse perspectives on the texts.

Sense of community

The social space in the on-site group led to social relations and the participants getting to know each other better. Indicative of such a sense of community, Susanne experienced the group members as friends she could always reach out to. In the online group, the participants did not get to know each other in the same way. However, the information the participants got about each other’s lives through the discussions of the texts gave inspiration and prompted curiosity, as the participants expressed in the focus group. Participants in both groups reported a sense of being part of a community. MacQueen et al. (2001) define a community as “a group of people with diverse characteristics who are linked by social ties, share common perspectives, and engage in joint action in geographical locations or settings” (p. 1926). In the reading groups, the participants shared being diagnosed with cancer which functioned as a common point of reference when sharing illness experiences. In the online group, the sense of community seemed to have been strengthened by the feeling of being part of and contributing to the group and feeling that their contribution was valuable to others (contributing to the ‘joint action’). Here, the RL’s positive feedback was vital to make the participants feel acknowledged, as well as the other participant’s responses. Rachel shared in the focus group interview that the positive feedback from the RL made her feel that she had an important voice in the group. In the on-site group, the RL’s positive feedback might be less essential since the participants respond to and affirm each other’s inputs through the collective dynamics. In addition to contribution, collaboration also seemed to be essential in the on-site group and much more present than in the online group:

This is much more a collaborative group [samhandlingsgruppe] than a course group [kursgruppe] when you become… right, you only raise your hand and say something if you have to. Well, this is [the reading group] much more social and collaborative, and I think that is great. (Bobby, on-site focus group, 106:34)

The collaborative processes and the co-constructing of meaning in the on-site group added to the sense of being part of a community and working on something together. In the online group, by contrast, this sense of community, apart from sharing a diagnosis, seemed more reliant on the mediating role and acknowledging feedback of the RL.

Safe space

Participants in both groups expressed in the focus groups that they experienced the group as a safe space where they could be themselves and where they could also share personal information, which seems to come from it being a group that has something in common, in this case, living with cancer, rather than an open group at the library. The participants in both groups were generally open about how they were feeling, their mood and energy level for the day, and if they were waiting for RCT results or had started a new treatment that affected their concentration. For instance, Molly explained that there was a safe and sound atmosphere in the group, although it was online:

…well, we meet in a room in a way, just that it is digital. But like in a normal room where you see each other, you can sense an atmosphere. If I can use that word. That it is a mood or something like that. Even if we don’t meet physically, I still have an experience of that. It might be a bit strange, but I do feel that… that it is a feeling of a good atmosphere, it is like a good feeling. There is like something safe that rests over this digital room we are in. (online focus group, 38:44).

The participants in both groups said that the feeling of a safe space came from everyone listening and responding positively and respectfully to each other (for a more elaborate description of the participants’ experiences of a safe space, see Andersen, 2022). In addition, it seems that the RL had a more prominent role in creating a safe space in the online group, for example, through positive feedback on the participants’ contributions and keeping the discussion going. In contrast, in the on-site group, the RL seemed to have been less important. Instead, the physical location (the cancer organisation) may have provided a feeling of safe space in itself.

The participants who joined the groups later also seemed to feel at ease quickly. There were several instances where a new participant shared emotional and personal information after only a short time, especially in the online group. One example is Reese, who joined the group in session six. In that same session, she shared a feeling of loneliness that she recognised through the character (a fantasy character, Filifjonka, in Tove Jansson’s Moomin universe). She was incredibly moved by the story and told us, sniffing and tearing up, about how isolated and misunderstood she sometimes felt in people’s response to her illness. For the researcher, it was a surprise that complete strangers could open up to each other so quickly and deeply in an online space despite the physical distance. This observation contrasts with Fagerlig and Vannes (2022), who observed that participants in their study did not engage as personally in discussions. This suggests that the ease of opening up online may not be solely due to the anonymity provided by the online setting. Instead, it might be the combination of the online space and the fact that the group was specifically for cancer patients, some of whom may have had a stronger need for emotional sharing. Apart from this deviation from Fagerlid and Vannes (2022) results, it is important to notice that many of the present study’s findings are aligned with those reported in their study. In addition, we support their observations with quantitative insights.

Discussion

Keeping in mind all that has been said about the obstacles comparing the two groups, and staying clear from making any causal claims, the findings of the present study do suggest some key differences in the SR experience between on-site and online settings, emphasizing how the physical environment, engagement with texts, group dynamics, and the role of the RL shaped participants’ experiences.

In the onsite group, the physical presence of others created a multi-sensory, spontaneous, and socially dynamic atmosphere. Having printed texts allowed for greater autonomy in reading and enabled co-facilitation (i.e., participants naturally taking on roles alongside the RL). Conversations flowed organically, with frequent turn-taking and multi-directional exchanges, while humour, spontaneity, and embodied engagement seemed to have contributed to an interactive and immersive experience. Silences were more prevalent and might have allowed ideas to sink in. Social interactions extended beyond textual discussions, reinforcing a sense of community and shared meaning-making that emerged collectively among participants.

By contrast, in the online group, the experience was more structured, serious, and individualistic. The RL played a more central role, actively guiding discussions, maintaining the reading pace, and ensuring comprehension. Without the physical presence of texts, participants were more dependent on the RL, making meaning-making less collaborative. Turn-taking was less frequent, with longer, bidirectional exchanges between the RL and individual participants. Silences were less common and harder to interpret for the RL, and the absence of bodily cues made it more difficult for participants to respond to each other’s reactions.

While the findings suggest that both settings fostered openness and reflection, the onsite group may have encouraged horizontally rich, socially embedded discussions, whereas the online group seemed to be associated with deeper, more vertical individual insights. In both cases, the RL played a crucial role, but in the online group, their presence was more pivotal in shaping the experience, from structuring discussions to maintaining engagement.

Group cohesion in a small and unstable group

When patients in demanding life situations are the data source, it may lead to inconsistent attendance, affecting data collection stability (Buckwalter et al., 2009). In this study, the online group consisted of only 4 participants, and the group had little stability in attendance (on average, there were 2 participants present apart from the RL and the researcher). The low number of participants in the online group reflects the vulnerable health status of cancer patients and the real-world conditions under which such research is conducted. Therefore, it is also valuable to have a study with a small and unstable group, as this would often be the case, and to explore if the participants still experience it as an important psychosocial support despite these obstacles. Although there were fewer participants than in the on-site group, and the online participants seemed to have interacted less with each other, the participants still highlighted the experience of multiple perspectives on the texts and how they were surprised by other ways of thinking and understanding the text as valuable. In the focus group, Rachel identified, and the other participants agreed with her, the experience of contributing to and being part of the group as the most beneficial experience to her.

However, questions also arise from studying a group of only 1–4 participants each session: How often should they meet, and how many participants should be the minimum for the group factor to be in play or to have a sense of community? When considering the results from the present study, the positive reported experiences related to contribution and being part of something in the online group could suggest that in very small groups and with fluctuating attendance rates, there can still be a group factor and sense of community in play if those meetings are profound and a good experience. However, if there is only one participant in a session, the perspectives presented in the discussions of the texts might be limited to fewer perspectives and consequently the discussion risks becoming less enriched. In these cases, the discussions might have been richer if more participants with different life experiences and points of view led the discussion in diverse directions. On the other hand, it might feel safer for the participants to speak up in small groups, and this feeling could potentially create more group cohesion, especially online, where turn-taking can be a challenge.

In a systematic review of telehealth interventions such as online group therapy, Gentry et al. (2018) found that in 40 reviewed studies, the participants had positive perceptions of the telehealth experience. Moreover, several qualitative studies (O’Connell et al., 2014; Taylor et al., 2012; Zhou et al., 2016) that examined group processes and how they were affected by the online delivery, found that participants had reported experiencing a positive sense of group belonging, wanting to continue the group sessions, feeling valued by group members and less alone (Gentry et al., 2019, p. 13). While some studies indicated slight differences between face-to-face and videoconferencing groups, such as minor decreases in therapeutic alliance (the therapeutic collaboration between therapist and group members) and group cohesion, two studies found that participants preferred videoconferencing over in-person interaction, citing it as less distracting and threatening (Khatri et al., 2014; Tsaousides et al., 2014). It might be that for some cancer patients, as Alice, the more focused atmosphere in the online group would be better as there are fewer social ‘distractions’.

Implications and future research

The comparison of the two groups led, maybe unsurprisingly, to the discovery of similarities and differences. Different pathways led to different though similarly valuable benefits. This seemingly straightforward realisation holds potential significance for our target audience, cancer patients, given their often limited mobility, energy, time and confinement to homes or even hospital beds, and their challenges in focusing on stimuli like literary texts, and therefore restricting their access to experiences that may help them cope with their condition. Furthermore, online SR might also have the potential to be a distraction and stimulus while patients are receiving chemotherapy (which can take hours) or for in-ward patients. It could also be further explored if a SR offer that combines online and on-site sessions would have better outcomes and be more accessible to cancer patients. It could be, for example, that group cohesion would be strengthened if the first session was on-site. However, there is the risk that the online version will be seen as less attractive when the on-site experience is fresh in mind.

Surprisingly, the online participants were not very aware of the medium’s impact on their participation, and they did not report any negative experiences, which may seem in contrast to the online RL’s more critical position of how the online group ‘worked’. This could be due to the focus group setting in which these more critical perspectives may not have been expressed. However, they seemed to have focused on how well it worked and accepted the conditions (muting and changing sound quality, reading on screen). They were grateful for the opportunity to participate and had a strong need for such a low-threshold, flexible and meaningful activity in their illness process. Their engagement in the readings and the feeling of safe space might have led them to ignore these technological problems rather than become frustrated because of them. Hence, we would argue that online SR could be of major importance, considering the vast population of people suffering from cancer. Of course, given the limitations of online SR, that is, the virtual and hence restricted ‘social space’ and the less prominent sense of community, on-site meetings would be preferable for patients who have a strong desire to get out of the house and meet other people. However, online SR may still help reduce isolation by connecting individuals in the same situation.

The study has led us to new questions, especially relating to the sense of community and whether it is experienced differently online than when people meet in person. The findings related to a sense of community indicated that the experience of contribution was more prominent than collaboration in the online group. However, it would be beneficial for the present study to investigate further the participants’ experiences of community online versus on-site and explore whether the online experiences are of a different experiential quality than on-site. We suggest this could be done in a self-report within-subjects study design with two conditions (on-site SR and online SR), and include at least two groups, where one group of participants first experience the on-site and then switch to online, and the other group starts with online SR and then switches to on-site.

The data also indicated a more prominent and guiding role of the RL. Implementing online SR for our target group (and probably also for others), would require thorough considerations in relation to: monitoring the group (because of the lower visibility of individual responses) to adequately respond to participants’ input; selecting effective texts suitable for online use; and being aware of potentially emotional triggers and the need for follow-up support. For the online group, it seemed especially important that the RL responded to the participants’ input in a warm, open, and caring way. Thus, the RL did not only seem to have a significant role in getting the discussion going and mediating the discussion but also in making the participants feel safe by responding positively to every one of their inputs. Hence, they felt acknowledged and important in the group. However, the individual facilitator style of RL’s needs further investigation, as it is not possible to determine in this study if the more guiding role of the online RL is an expression of her facilitation style or the affordances of the medium. The safe space seemed to be there from day one, which opened for intimate moments in both conditions, but especially in the online group. On the one hand, Elena, who participated in both groups, noted a lack of social and dialogical dimensions in the online situation. On the other hand, the intimacy in the online group came from the ‘window’ into their personal spaces, such as Rachel, who logged in from the hospital and needed room to share how she felt, which affected the group atmosphere. These findings inform potential difficulties for the online RL in reading the participants’ nonverbal signals and managing situations with little or no response. These challenging situations for the RL, which are further complicated by the health context, could be further investigated in a study that collects and explores RL’s perceptions and experiences of online SR in a survey study to shed light on other potential obstacles and how to prepare future RLs best possible for online facilitation.

The on-site group had some advantages over the online situation. Some are inevitable. However, small adjustments may mitigate others. For instance, the RL could also stimulate participants to print the text in advance and read it from paper (but without reading it before the session), which we thought was an advantage in the on-site group. Second, the RL could incorporate more ‘chit chat’ in the beginning, during the coffee break and before logging off to stimulate more group cohesion. However, it might be that an extended social space in online SR would not function because of the medium’s restrictions on dialogue and presence. Perhaps fewer social interactions and distractions are a relief in this setting and for this cognitively challenged target group, which allows for a deepened connection between the individual and the text. However, no clear recommendations for online SR with cancer patients can be made, but based on indications from this study we encourage future research to explore further the function and outcomes of online SR. There are several limitations to this study, which have been discussed throughout the article. This study could benefit from future research in on-site and online SR using the same RL reading the same texts with the same participants in both online and on-site groups over some time, in a quasi-experimental setting, with texts and medium counterbalanced. Furthermore, it would be necessary to apply conversation analysis on a larger number of session transcripts to see if the recurrent patterns observed in this small study pertain to a larger text corpus.

Conclusion

Literary experiences in SR seem to be shaped by various interacting factors, with the setting and medium—on-site or online— probably playing an important role. The affordances of the medium may influence group dynamics, atmosphere, text selection, the role of the RL, and the overall process of meaning-making. In on-site sessions, meaning-making may be more collective, while online sessions may facilitate deeper individual reflection. Recognizing these distinctive benefits and other differences is essential for understanding the potential value of each format, which also depends on the individual participant’s needs and preferences. The patterns identified in this study could inform RL training, helping tailor facilitation styles to different formats. Given the scope of the study’s target group—as well as other populations facing poor quality-of-life conditions—it seems worthwhile to explore whether these findings are generalizable.

Additional Files

The additional files for this article can be found as follows:

Supplementary Material

Appendices 1 to 4. DOI: https://doi.org/10.61645/ssol.186.s1

Appendix 5

session6_transcript_onsite. DOI: https://doi.org/10.61645/ssol.186.s2

Appendix 6

session6_transcript_online. DOI: https://doi.org/10.61645/ssol.186.s3

Competing Interests

The authors have no competing interests to declare.

DOI: https://doi.org/10.61645/ssol.186 | Journal eISSN: 2210-4380
Language: English
Page range: 60 - 83
Submitted on: Feb 29, 2024
Accepted on: Apr 3, 2025
Published on: Sep 5, 2025
Published by: International Society for the Empirical Study of Literature
In partnership with: Paradigm Publishing Services

© 2025 Tine Riis Andersen, Anne Mangen, Frank Hakemulder, published by International Society for the Empirical Study of Literature
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 License.