BOOK GROUPS
I have been a participant in a book group of some sort almost forever. In my 20’s, I was part of a group that was made up of English professors and two librarians, me being one of the latter. All members were female. I can’t recall the titles we discussed, but I do know I felt intimidated by the intellectual heft of this assemblage. Over time I came to realize that this feeling was due somewhat to the competitive egos of these women each one trying to outdo the other with her insights.
In my 30’s, a colleague and I co-founded a lunchtime book group with the possibly risque Fear of Flying by Erica Jong as our first title. Still going strong, the group is democratically run with everyone taking a turn selecting a book and leading the discussion. Subsequently, I’ve been a member of two women’s book groups on the west coast, one with a paid facilitator and the other more casual where the members choose the book by consensus. Having a paid leader was quite a different experience; she presented the options for what we might read and had some definite ideas about each work. She was a skillful facilitator and her unique lens made for lively discussions.
In my last job, I convened and facilitated a book group for museum members which focused on books related to science and the natural world. While there were a few regulars, different people showed up each time, making each meeting its own event with little in the way of a cohesive group. One particularly noteworthy book was the graphic biography of Marie and Pierre Curie, Radioactive by Lauren Redniss. This group expanded my own reading of science-related works—who would have thought it?
Today I follow the selections of my San Francisco book group virtually (and even occasionally read the book) as well as participate in a group here in Florida. I like the discipline of reading a book for discussion, particularly if it is one that I wouldn’t otherwise have read. I enjoy the give and take of a group and am keen to hear others’ perspectives—it enriches and expands the reading experience!
RECENT READING
My Name is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout. The book group here is small and only meets five times a year, but it does offer an opportunity to share reactions to a work. My Name is Lucy Barton was my pick for April. I thought Strout’s earlier book, Olive Kittredge, was excellent and it’s a title I’ve recommended over and over and given as a gift.
My first reading of Lucy Barton left me feeling somewhat underwhelmed. It’s a quiet book with an intriguing structure (a novel within a novel) that I didn’t fully appreciate until re-read it more slowly. This time I was drawn in and captured by Lucy’s plaintive child-like voice and her slightly probing, but mostly unsatisfactory, conversations with her mother. Her accounts of the abject poverty her family experienced (living for many years in a garage), her allusions to the abuse she suffered, her struggle to pass in a sophisticated Manhattan world, and her growing sense of herself as a writer and a person worth knowing, unfold during her mother’s nights at her hospital bedside and in Lucy’s reflections years after. It’s a novel about a mother-daughter relationship weighted with love, need, and tension and about the mean-spiritedness of social class that divides and separates people. It’s also a novel about what it means to be a writer and the story that person has to tell.
Here’s Lucy reflecting on her behavior:
“I suspect I said nothing because I was doing what I have done most of my life, which is to cover for the mistakes of others when they don’t know they have embarrassed themselves. I do this, I think, because it could be me a great deal of the time. I know faintly, even now, that I have embarrassed myself, and it always comes back to the feeling of childhood, that huge pieces of knowledge about the world were missing that can never be replaced. But still—I do it for others, even as I sense that others do it for me.”
Journey to Munich by Jacqueline Winspear. On a different note, I always look forward to the next installment in the Maisie Dobbs mystery series. This one did not disappoint. Maisie is given the assignment of going to Munich in 1938 in disguise as his daughter to rescue a man important to the British government. Leon Donat is being held in Dachau and Munich is a tense and pall-laden city as Hitler tightens his grip on the country. What happens in a Winspear novel is as much interior as it is overt action. Maisie’s character is so well-fleshed out that her thinking and her pragmatic and philosophical approach to life ring true and provide a backdrop for the events that unfold. For those readers who haven’t read the previous books, Winspear fills in Maisie’s history and the life-altering events that have shaped who she is now.
