NOT a book club....
Reading Middlesex (no C, not a little sex) by Jeffrey Eugenides and feeling dissatisfied. I'm on p. 207 of 529. I keep reading because I want to discuss it with library book discussion group. But it feels a bit wasteful to keep reading, four little uninterrupted and untired hours in which to read a week and I'm filling it up with a book that I don't want to read just because I miss my job (for those unaware, I QUIT; for those aware I need to keep saying it, I QUIT) and have a, some might say unnatural, NEED to talk about books and the why and the how and the who and the where and the when.
Here's what I'm thinking and I hope that at least one person will bite. One night a month--or every other month--some of the people I know or don't know who like to read books can read a book--the same book--and then come over to my house after the kids are asleep and we can eat food (that someone else cooks, unless it's simple and easy and then I might be able to handle it) and drink wine (or something else if you don't like wine) and we can talk about this book. Or, if we're running short on time for reading things long, we could read an article of some sort, an essay, short story, some poetry. I'm reminded of one of my college professors who would get all crazy drinking wine and reading The Faerie Queene and other works with a bunch of folks, some married, some not, some with kids, some without, some older, some younger. All mixed up.
This may sound an awful lot like a book club, but it's not...mostly because I have a hard time associating myself with clubs of any sort--especially clubs that require participants to wear special underwear, clubs that repress all kinds of natural desires, clubs that don't allow non-club members into their big, fancy temples, clubs that tell people how to think, whom to vote for for president, what to read and not read, etc.
People play golf with clubs. People hit other people with clubs. People go to nightclubs for a bit of dancing and a good time. People play cards with clubs.
Clubs are for clubbing. Books are for reading. Do you want to read some? Please send titles/ideas. Will meet at end of May?
--Jane
Here's what I'm thinking and I hope that at least one person will bite. One night a month--or every other month--some of the people I know or don't know who like to read books can read a book--the same book--and then come over to my house after the kids are asleep and we can eat food (that someone else cooks, unless it's simple and easy and then I might be able to handle it) and drink wine (or something else if you don't like wine) and we can talk about this book. Or, if we're running short on time for reading things long, we could read an article of some sort, an essay, short story, some poetry. I'm reminded of one of my college professors who would get all crazy drinking wine and reading The Faerie Queene and other works with a bunch of folks, some married, some not, some with kids, some without, some older, some younger. All mixed up.
This may sound an awful lot like a book club, but it's not...mostly because I have a hard time associating myself with clubs of any sort--especially clubs that require participants to wear special underwear, clubs that repress all kinds of natural desires, clubs that don't allow non-club members into their big, fancy temples, clubs that tell people how to think, whom to vote for for president, what to read and not read, etc.
People play golf with clubs. People hit other people with clubs. People go to nightclubs for a bit of dancing and a good time. People play cards with clubs.
Clubs are for clubbing. Books are for reading. Do you want to read some? Please send titles/ideas. Will meet at end of May?
--Jane
posted by Jane | 4:03 PM
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