
BOOK CLUB
Reading doesn’t need to be a solitary activity! These posts illuminate books that are great for communal discussion; examples of book clubs that are doing this well; commentary on reading together, whether that’s just with one other person or a book club or a larger community entity.
We saw The Head and the Heart last week. (Awesome show!) They didn’t play one of my favorites, and I can see it being a bit maudlin for a concert at an outdoor amphitheater anyway. It’s called “One Big Mystery” and is marked with “life’s one big mystery” as a repeated line. Simple stuff, but a true statement nonetheless.
A question after reading Real Americans by Rachel Khong: How often do you suspend disbelief while reading fiction? I don’t mean like “this guy is driving around with his zombie ex-girlfriend” (yes, I’m referring to I Am Homeless if This is Not My Home by Lorrie Moore) or “these sea creatures are talking” (Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt, which I have not read yet, but would like to). Those novels are considered literary fiction — not sci-fi — so readers accept the impossible as sort of an artistic method (maybe akin to Picasso’s portraits?) instead of world-building fantasy. No, I guess I mean more like a novel that is trying to be realistic, but instead feels a tiny bit like a sitcom when it comes to the neatly tied-together details.
All Fours by Miranda July: I met with 4 friends to talk about this one the other week. Was it a book club? I guess — we were meeting to discuss a book. There did happen to be wine + cheese (+ Amelie’s macarons thanks to @librarian.in.the.woods). We were all women. But somehow it felt different than what popular culture thinks of as a book club. This open group — not everyone knew each other — was an outgrowth of the trio that met at my place a couple of months ago with History of the Rain (Niall Williams) as our catalyst.
I read a lot of Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter while in Italy — and even had it in my backpack during our day in Cinque Terre, where a lot of the novel takes place. (Why I didn’t pull it out and take some cool meta pic with the book in the foreground is beyond me…) I think a lot about buildings and structures that endure — maybe especially when they’re perched on a tenuous-looking precipice? — and I love ruminating on the repurposing of spaces. Case in point: Giunti Odeon, a former Renaissance palace in Florence that now houses a café/bookstore/cinema. …
I’ve finished this book and it nonetheless remains a mystery to me — and that is probably why I love it so, so much.
My husband and I read a book together. (Wow, cool, cue massive applause.) This is of interest because Matt is pretty much a self-professed non-reader of books. But back in 2020, he declared he wanted to read an “Amy book” with me. It was awesome, and we read The Overstory by Richard Powers. Fast forward to 2024, and I said, “Let’s do that again!” I had started The Nix and was enjoying the breezy style. So I declared it so.
From Matt:
My boss at a college internship thought I was funny, and remarked that I should try standup comedy. I’m glad my ego didn’t take the bait. I’m the worst storyteller. Since then though, I’ve thought about how fun it would be if I were to jot down comical scenarios & observations that I’ve come across over the years in a notepad. I could workshop them with Amy, and have multiple hilarious bits at the ready when hanging with friends, or maybe even, one day, on stage. I never did that.
There’s a lot in this book that touched a nerve for me (namely, bouncing around rentals with young children due to affordability and/or landlord nastiness…been there, done that in NYC and Dublin) and there’s a lot that may touch a nerve for others that I can’t necessarily relate to (navigating different cultures as a biracial person)…
I shared this a few weeks ago in stories, but it needs to be here on the grid. Matt is back. Meaning, he’s back in his Reader Era. Figured today — our 24th anniversary — was as perfect a time as any to post.
SPECTACULAR. That’s all I have to say.
For some reason I thought that maybe I had already read The Namesake … until I started it (because I wasn’t 100% sure) and realized that nope, I had just seen the movie.
I wanted to roll my eyes at yet another celeb book club but I honestly can’t this time. I read this article in print, and then the online version featuring video interviews with Kaia Gerber, daughter of Cindy Crawford. She sounds smart & interesting and wants to be known as “the internet’s librarian” as she prepares to launch something called Library Science this year. She’s 22 and her favorite book is Just Kids by Patti Smith.
Did you know that in addition to Valentine’s Day, February 14 is also International Book Giving Day? (Of COURSE it was @bethanyschlegel who tipped me off to this factoid a few years ago. #whoelse)
And this is why Oprah is the queen. I mean, Jesmyn Ward is the queen. But they’re both the queens for different, but linked, reasons.
I’ve been trying to think of how to describe books like Wellness by Nathan Hill. The first thing that comes to mind is that novels like this are ones that I “gobble up.” They are “smart” and “literary” and often on the longer side. But they aren’t overly taxing. They are generally page-turners, and sometimes you can skim a tiny bit in parts. There are dramatic inflection points, but you know that the author spent a lot of time trying to figure out where best to place them because often these novels involve time shifting. In general, these “gobble up” books span a few generations of a family’s history even if “family dynamics” is not the main focus of the plot. (Wellness is essentially a look at the psychology of love using a middle-aged marriage as its foil.) The authors’ ability to create spot-on characters drawing from contemporary tropes, nuances, and cultural references without stooping to stereotyping is A+. They’re just really, really well-written stories.
From Newsletter Issue No. 14:
The other day, I came across a draft of my thesis for my masters program. I have a MA in Media Studies, and in 2003 — just a few months before I had my first child (timing is everything!) — I completed an ethnography of a group of children of immigration in one neighborhood in Charlotte, NC and how their media preferences were shaped. Because of guidance from my advisor, I used a framework from a book called Is There a Text in This Class? by the scholar Stanley Fish as a way to frame my own work. In academic circles, Fish is known as one of the main proponents of something called Reader-Response Criticism. The Cliff Notes version of RRC is that the main lens through which to view literature is the reader and his or her experience as opposed focusing on the author. In the introduction to Is There a Text in This Class? Fish writes…
Everyone loves Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus. What’s not to like? It’s entertaining, it’s charming with brisk storytelling, it addresses important topics. It’s pretty heavy-handed in that regard, but I wonder if that’s partly Garmus’ point since the characters’ one-dimensionality must be intentional. (I really do believe this has to be a stylistic choice on the author’s part.) I decided to read it sort of like a fable. Like how I think La La Land is a fable. (I am a huge La La Land fan! I wrote about it together with Milkman by Anna Burns back in 2019.)
This book made me so tense, which doesn’t happen often. (While reading a book, I mean…)
My journey through this book — the everyone-loves-it Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin was ↗️↘️↗️↘️. I wish I could type out more of a parabolic line, but the arrows will have to do. I don’t mean “up and down,” like I liked it and then I didn’t like it. No, I mean that this novel — that uses gaming as a foil to explore friendship, love, grief, and how work and ambition weave into all of those emotions — so beautifully mirrors the heave-ho of a real, offline life.
What an absolutely delightful person! I was so honored to meet the writer Gish Jen in person last night for MetroWest Readers Fest. If you weren’t able to join us, do yourself a favor and YouTube her; whatever video pops up for you, I can guarantee you’ll be enthralled by what she has to say — and how she says it. Her work isn’t included in The Best American Short Stories of the Century and she’s not on the board of the MacArthur Foundation for nothin’, after all.
Coming in strong in the #FictionIsRelevant game: Horse, by Geraldine Brooks.
Here’s an example of how book clubs can be so much more than a social way to get your wine-and-cheese fix…in other words, how a book club can actually be a wonderful way to both give and receive support as well as find community.
A quick primer if your book club is going to read The Latecomer by Jean Hanff Korelitz. (Which it totally should! This would be a great book club book.)
We’re only three quarters of the way through 2022, but here are my “you NEED to read these” recommendations for the year..
A couple of years ago, I read a popular book and mused that I would have liked it better if it had been released as serialized fiction, à la Dickens. With that book, what I was probably thinking in the back of my head was: This would be better on screen — like a miniseries. I liked the book “ok.”
Last year right around July 4, I posted a picture of Gish Jen’s novel Typical American with the caption “We’re all typical Americans.”
I’ve thought a lot about Jennifer Egan’s The Candy House in light of news stories that have popped up this year. If you know Egan’s brilliant A Visit From the Goon Squad, you’ll catch on quickly with The Candy House and its thinly interwoven storylines and exploration of technology, socialization, and human behavior/motivation. Whereas Goon Squad was very much about the music industry, The Candy House is more or less about the tech industry. Everything is subtle and clever and pretty much mind-blowing with her work, and what The Candy House spends a lot of time focusing on is authenticity and memory. (Just some ✨light topics.✨)
I’m reading a new genre
Plainsong by Kent Haruf is the book I chose for my book club. “Happy ending needed!” was the charge. Not sure I delivered according to those specifications in the way people wanted…