What Makes a Good Book Club? (Or, Do I Really Have to Like These People?)

“Books were safer than other people anyway.” – Neil Gaiman, “The Ocean at the End of the Lane.”

Book clubs are odd things – each one takes on its own personality and no two are the same. Some are the brain child of one person who chooses all the books, hosts all meetings and leads discussions. Some are a book club in name only and they talk about the book for five minutes (if that) and then spend the rest of the evening talking, eating and drinking wine – but I guess they have to call it book club because it sounds more productive than wine club. Some meet sporadically or when the mood strikes. Some read only books of certain genres – new releases, classics, social causes. And some are consist of people who are not friends in the real world. Sometimes this last one sounds very intriguing to me.

Think about it – once a month you meet with seven or so other people where no one has spoken over the past month. And I don’t mean a local bookstore or library run book club with lots of people – I mean one where everyone is committed to gathering monthly and it is a small enough group that you are intimately talking for those two or so hours. You don’t know what you have in common or where you may be at loggerheads, as least until it comes up while discussing a book.  Because you are not invested in friendship with these people and you are not worried about how your response would be received, you can say you hated a book and no one is phased. In fact, you can have an no holds barred debate without concern over feelings being hurt.

Sometimes that sounds delightful to my argumentative side but there is something about books that I find just too intimate to leave to interactions with strangers. While I have no problem, to my teenage daughter’s chagrin, of telling a stranger at Costco who is eyeing a book that “it is worth it, buy it,” I don’t know if I could meet monthly with people with whom I could not go deeper. If you are a book addict/lover/willing to sacrifice sleep to finish the book/I-have-chosen-a-good-book-over-a-night-out-with-friends kind of person, you know that talking about books must go deeper than plot points. As a person of faith, I often find my spiritual life intersecting with what I am reading and it feels false not to mention it. If you are reading a book about an adoption and you have a parent with adopted children in your book club, she will be compelled to talk about it and you want that to get a richer meaning to what has been read. If a book is just on the page and then left behind after it is finished, was it worth reading if the group you were with didn’t invite and encourage you to go a step further?

When I moved to my current home, two of my neighbors invited me to be part of their book club. One of their members boldly challenged the group that they were not diverse and needed to look outside themselves for new people. When I was presented as a candidate, they said: “she is a protestant and a literature teacher – we don’t have one of those!” I kind of dug that. As I was – and still am – a busy mom of three, I really didn’t have time to join a book club that was more, well, wine club. After visiting once, I realized two things: 1) the group was a good mesh of women who cared deeply for each other but didn’t always see each other between meetings and certainly didn’t always see eye to eye on books.; and 2) they read books that were worthy. Win-win. Women who choose books on rotation and if it is picked, you have to read it. Women who loved “The Hunger Games” and others who couldn’t get past the kids-killing-kids part. Women who adored “The Book Thief” and then visited the Illinois Holocaust Museum as a field trip. Women who roughed it through “Crime and Punishment” together. We have lawyers,  a cancer survivor, a widow raising two kids, Catholics, protestants, a women with a doctorate in theology, a literature teacher , East Coasters transplanted to the Midwest – and every member is a traveler who brings back bookmarks from around the world for the rest of the group. Women with struggles, women with loss, women who share. 

I guess a book club worth having needs to have members who refuse to be surfacey in that they only discuss the book but refuse to let themselves agree merely for the sake of agreeing or be vulnerable. And they better read something worth your time. A book club may not always agree on a book, but isn’t that why we read together – to be challenged, to have our beliefs strengthened and force us to know why we believe what we believe? To know each other deeper and to learn patience, listening skills and, above all, care about each other – all while reading a book? Well, and perhaps share a glass of wine too.

 What makes the best part of a book club to you? Close friends or friends who are mostly linked through the book club? A book club where people discuss, defend and perhaps argue? A book club that shows its strength when something happens to a member outside of reading? Would love to hear your book club stories…and, of course, what you are reading.

 

 

How Many Copies of a Book is Too Many?

 As I stare at my bookshelves, I see some redundancies. Some are just plain accident – how I ended up with four hardback copies of “Roots,” I just don’t know. Worthy to own, of course, but four copies? I think I must have picked one up at a library sale, another was during a friend’s purge of their bookshelves, another because it was hardcover and then I guess I forgot I had the other three copies and bought again because everyone needs a copy of “Roots”!  Really? Two went to a library sale and one into my Little Free Library and I kept one for myself. Brava. But this is not always the case because there are some multiple copies that are absolutely on purpose.

I have three copies of “The Book Thief.” I bought one and lent it out. It didn’t come back. Then I found a beautiful hardcover. But as much as I love to lend out a good book, I love my pretty hard covers even more (friendship has its limits, you know), so I bought another paperback. And then the original paperback made its way back to my house.

And then I am a real Shakespeare gal. I have a few anthologies, my college anthology, pretty hard covers, a half dozen Little Leather Library copies, some pocket editions, some gloriously old versions given to me by a retiring professor, and then my Arden editions with all my highlights and notes.

Don’t get me started on the Kindle versions. Like when you are just a bit into “Pillars of the Earth” and realize there is no way you can take it on vacation, so you buy it on the Kindle? And then all those freebies and 99 cents versions! It would be a crime not to because you never know when the Kindle will be your only option and, let’s face it, it is a horror to be far from home with just one book that just isn’t working for you.

And then there are the Bibles, revised and updated versions of nonfiction books and all the books from when my husband and I combined bookshelves 20 years ago. And how about when someone gave my daughter “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” but it didn’t have the Joseph Schindelman illustrations from my childhood memories, so we had to buy that version too?

So what does an addict do? What about the multiple copies? I do purge my bookshelves once a year as I need the space for new books and I am happy to put them in my Little Free Library or give them away. But some of them I just can’t let go and there are some for which there is no need. I like knowing I have “Lonesome Dove” at the ready, whether it is in my living room or on my Kindle. I like that my daughter and I can partake of “The Hunger Games” at the same time and talk about it as we work our way through the series.

I wish I had a good answer. Not sure there is one. Interested to hear how others handle their multiple copy addiction. Or if you just accept that it is part of your charm and invite others to join you.

 

 

What I recently read, am reading now, plan on reading soon...

Here is a list of books I have read since January 2012 about which that I did not blog. I either let too much time pass to where I couldn’t remember enough to write about it, I finished it at a point where I just had no time to blog, or I could not (in good consciousness) recommend it. Also, this is a very busy time both personally and professionally, so here is a mere list of books I have read. I may blog about them yet, but as for now, this will have to do. If you wish to know more about a book in particular, let me know and I will fill you in.

Books read since January 2012 (but not blogged about)

The Stand by Stephen King

Magnolia Wednesdays by Wendy Wax
The Meaning of Marriage: Facing the Complexities of Commitment with the Wisdom of God
                by Timothy Keller and Kathy Keller
Rules of Civility by Amor Towles
Moloka’i by Alan Brennert
August: Osage County by Tracy Letts
The Descendants by Kaui Hart Hemmings
The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness by Tim Keller
Momumental:  Adventures in the Messy Art of Raising a Family by Jennifer Grant
Glaciers by Alexis Smith
The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick

Books on the “To Read” shelf (or currently being read)

Swamplandia! By Karen Russell

Signature Sins by Michael Mangis
Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
Doc: A Novel by Mary Doria Russell
Lit! A Christian Guide to Reading Books by Tony Reinke

“Some Assembly Required: A Journal of My Son’s First Son” by Anne Lamott with Sam Lamott

I first heard of Anne Lamott when the mother of one of my college roommates, Julie, gave me “Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son’s First Year” after Noa was born. She told me to read it during those 2am feedings when you need to laugh. Being a new mom, I wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that; but, boy, does that one become clear very, very quickly.

Since then, I have read most of Lamott’s books (I return to “Bird by Bird” when I toy with the idea of just biting the bullet and becoming a real writer) and this latest book is just new to the shelves. In “Operating Instructions,” Lamott detailed her pregnancy with Sam – she is unmarried, not together with the father, over 40 and just getting herself together, and now she is responsible for another person. Gulp. Now, in “Some Assembly Required,” her not-yet-20-year-old son is expecting a child with his “is she is or isn’t she?” girlfriend. Lamott details the pregnancy through the first year and tells of falling in love with her grandson Jax, watching her son in his new role as dad and supporting her grandson’s mother.

I do not agree with Lamott on everything (politics, some theology, etc.), but that is not why I read her and it doesn’t prevent me from reading her. She was truly the first Christian I read who admitted to being broken. She flat out said that she was a mess and only the grace of God made her worthy. And that she was going to continue being a mess because, well, she is also a sinner. It was a revelation to me. Before then, most Christians I knew and Christian authors I read spent a lot of energy “having it altogether.” Reading Lamott, you get the feeling that she would find that just exhausting and more work than actually just being yourself. And it is more work – it is taking a giant spoonful of pride every morning when you are already full. As Lamott says: “Life is an obstacle course, and when you’re adding you own impediments (thinking they are helping), you really crazy it up. You make it harder to even just cross the room. You should not bring more items and hurdles to the obstacle course” (p161). That is why I appreciate Lamott. She knows her “signature sins” (as writer and teacher – and my neighbor – Michael Mangis calls them) and knows she could struggle with them for a long time. She owns them, hates them and realizes it is not within her power to conquer them – it is dependent on a grace-infused life.

Lamott’s son Sam has inherited his mother’s ease of words – his descriptions of his son, how he is coping with the near-breakdown moments with a new baby added to an already full life, and his own struggles mirror his mom’s honesty and turn of phrase. When talking about his son, he says: “I feel desperate of him – maybe that’s not correct grammatically, but I feel desperate of him” (p71). Not sure how much we will see of Sam Lamott in writing in years to come, but he has a gift and if he can do for young men what his mom did for young women, Christians will rejoice and be glad to see they have a wounded, broken brother in Christ whom they can relate and admire.

I encourage you to find Anne Lamott’s books and especially this new one as it feels like the continuation of a journey she has invited us on with her.

“Elizabeth the Queen: The Life of a Modern Monarch” by Sally Bedell Smith

Let me just start with all the reasons to read this book: 1) There is no more powerful woman in the world right now; 2) She has been on the throne and ruled over 16 sovereign states and multiple territories for 60 years; 3) She became queen at the age of 25; 4) She kept a marriage intact, gave birth to and raised four kids, cared for her widowed mother and nutty sister – oh, and ran a country; and 5) as an American, I find this whole monarchy thing fascinating.

At over 670 pages, this is no small book, but it reads very fast and well. Because the reader has seen the queen and known of her life, this book will not seem so foreign – we remember Diana’s death and the recent marriage of William and Katherine. The movies “The Queen” and “The King’s Speech” are familiar to us. She has just always seemed to have been there. And, really, she has.  Her life has been dedicated to her people and that in itself is an amazing thing. She comes from a long line of reluctant monarchs – in fact, it seems that many of the well-known kings and queens with great impact where not supposed to be in their position (or at least not ascend as early): King Henry VIII, Queen Elizabeth I, Queen Victoria, King George VI, Queen Elizabeth II.

I have great appreciation and admiration for her and I found the book informative, enlightening and very interesting. The author does not let the queen off the hook for some of her actions (putting her duty above her children) and responses (inaction after Diana’s death), but you can tell the author is a fan and often gives her the benefit of the doubt. It is not merely a salacious tell-all, filled with rumors and unsavory details – the author had approved insider information and relies well on her facts. The queen didn’t “cooperate” but many close to her were interviewed and provided help. Who knows – this book could be a scandal in London and I have no idea.

I do recommend it and do not let the size of the book deter you – it is worth-while and it is not dense or dry that you would need to commit an enormous time to reading it. Cheerio, pip pip and all that.

“Bringing up Bebe: One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting” by Pamela Druckerman

“Bringing up Bebe: One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting” by Pamela Druckerman

I will come right out with it – I have no idea why I decided to read this book. I am not bringing up babies anymore. I have no desire to bring up babies in France. Frankly, I am not all that interested in even visiting France. I don’t remember why I choose to read it, but there it is. If I could explain half the things I do, I count that a good day.

That said, it was an interesting read. Author Pamela Druckerman is an expatriate living and raising a family in Paris and she quickly realized how different French mothers parent than American mothers. She talks about everything from choosing obstetricians to choosing preschools and all that goes on in between.  She mentions many ways in that the French and the Americans raise children differently and how they bristle and are sometimes appalled at each other.

There were parts of the book I found interesting but we are too far along in ages to implement them – teaching children to sleep through the night by two months old (if not earlier), introducing foods and expecting a child to eat what is put in front of them (including pate and foie gras), getting back in shape almost immediately post-baby, day care, etc. As I read these parts, I thought “oh well! Too late! I already did my eight months of not sleeping through the night!”  But as the author points out, the theory that overrides many of these issues goes to the heart of raising children through the years and the pattern that is begun in their first few weeks will continue through childhood and beyond to where it becomes part of the adult’s routine – and then one they implement when they have their own children.

Like many scenarios, people agree in theory but not in practice. Just take a look at how Americans responded to Amy Chau’s “Battle of the Tiger Mother.” “Yes, I want my child to be a person that excels…but whoa! Making them practice for hours and hours when they don’t want to? That is going too far.” The same could be said for “Bringing up Bebe” and French parenting – some things will seem just too strict, too over the top, too distanced. And yet it works in this society, so might as well take a look.

The French parent is a big believer in empowering their child. Now, Americans would say we are as well and would be offended if that is questioned. But if how this implemented is looked at, Americans would shun the way the French put this into practice. French parents let their babies cry and self-sooth to the point where the child is sleeping through the night at a few weeks old. Parents put their children on a feeding schedule like one an adult keeps – three meals a day with an afternoon snack. This includes children who are bottle-fed (nursing is not nearly employed in France as it is here).

The French also believe that the child should never be the center of anyone’s life. Again, I think Americans would agree until they see the specifics. A child is taught to wait very early on – that may mean while their mom finishing the dishes before picking them up. It may also mean crying for a while before they are fed. It means not interrupting an adult conversation. It means playing or reading alone until they are allowed to interact. “To wait” is a very important part of raising French children and, frankly, I think American children need to learn this skill. There is a lack of patience and consideration and an “immediacy” to our kids that will not always be common for them and I am concerned how they will react when they are told “wait” for the first time in their lives when they are 18 years old – a bit of a stretch, yes, but you get my point.

The mothers do not want to “lose themselves” just because they are now mothers – again, American women agree that this is necessary, and yet the implementing would cause great judgment. A great number of parents put their children in day care, called crèche. This government-funded day care starts very early in life (a few months old) and most parents take advantage of it even if the mom does not work.  This also means French mothers are careful with their pregnancy weight gain and drop it as soon as possible afterwards – they do not give themselves the cushion (pun intended?) that American mothers do. They want to look their best for themselves and their husbands and return to their fashionable selves as soon as possible (not that they ever go “out of fashion” during pregnancy).

French parents treat their children as people, not as lumps that cannot do anything for themselves or lack the ability to understand reasoning. To an extent, they expect their children to fend for themselves by figuring out action and consequence, push though eating a meal they are not happy about. This requires a bit of detachment from the parents’ part, but not a shunning. They are firm and clear but with love. They are strict, but within the parameters there is great freedom.

This is in conflict with our American constant helping-hand parenting. We are involved parents – but the book questions if we are too involved. Is our identity wrapped in our children and our marriages and individual lives suffer for it? Yes, there are times things have to go on the backburner so that our kids can get to soccer practice or we miss a Bible study due to a sick child, but have we near-eliminated our lives to be our children’s chauffeurs, party-planners, volunteers for all their activities and classrooms? Or are we resentful about it and yet don’t make the change? Do we wear our “I am >so< busy with my children!” as a proud martyrdom when it is actually overtaking our lives to the point where our children expect us to drop all to serve them? I think we have all seen young adults who just can’t seem to grow up and parents whose lives continue to revolve around their fully grown children.

Another tough question that came up that really convicted me was if I am a “yes” mom or a “no” mom. That doesn’t mean that we say “yes” to everything and our children have no guidelines and are never denied their desires. Instead, it meant that “no” become the instant reflex response. Do I say “no” so often that when I really have to mean “no” that it has lost its weight? Do my kids expect a “no” answer much more than a “yes” answer? This cut to the heart as I know that is true. I say “no” to my kids for selfish reasons, out of frustration and just to stop the talking.

My friend Tara brought the book “Playful Parenting” by Lawrence Cohen to my attention and when I flipped to the index and saw “no, saying, 154-59, 176,” I had a mixed emotion. First was “whew! They know this is an issue and are here to help!” and then “wait! Five pages! I must really be messed up!” and then “thank God I am not alone in this and there is someone who tell me what to do.” It convinced me that “the constant parade of no” is not helping my kids – they think I am a downer and I am not giving them the skills to think through things on their own. I am on my way to losing my “Fun Mom” badge. I must put this into practice immediately and set a new goal for summer that turns into our normal lives. Pray for me.

So, the book is interesting and if you are just raising infants, toddlers and preschoolers, you may get some new information. But like any book on raising children, don’t let it overwhelm you with “I am doing it all wrong!!!” What works in France is going to be hard to implement here merely because you could be the only one doing it. To take you kid to a play date at a friend’s house and tell the parents that they cannot have a cookie because they are not allowed to eat for another three hours is near impossible. But perhaps empowering our children earlier in life instead of hand-holding too long is not a bad idea. I will give the French that much.

“To Marry an English Lord…Or, How Anglo-Mania Really Got Started” by Gail MacColl

“To Marry an English Lord…Or, How Anglo-Mania Really Got Started” by Gail MacColl

Like many an American woman, I have been swept by “Downton Abbey” fever. I watched season one and then hooked as many of my friends into it as I possibly could. The “if I am going down, I am taking everyone with me” mentality. Season two was even more fun as my texting prowess rivaled my daughter’s as my friend Tara and I went back and forth every episode, culminating with a season finale party with several Bible study friends. Yes, Anglo-mania was in full force with me.

Near the end of the season, I watched an interview with the show’s creator and writer, Julian Fellowes. He said that the idea for the miniseries came about as he read To Marry an English Lord by Gail MacColl, an entertaining book about an era where American women married British men in droves. The character that began it all was Cora, the American who married into the British family, and “Downton Abbey” was born.

As I watched the show, I thought the idea of the lone American was strange, so to realize that practice was common in the late 1800s was fascinating. So picked up the book and the research geek in me was thrilled with all the amazing information. Yet, this book is not academic at all – it is a fun read that is easy to flip through, put down and pick up when you can, or read straight through if you have the time.

In the late 1800s, Americans had come around to being fascinated by Europe and its people. Its royalty, the formality of their lives, the titles that were handed down generation to generation. In turn, Europeans was fascinated by Americans – their freedoms, their opinionated women, their “newness.” Vacationing in Europe for the very wealthy was fashionable and young women often visited with their mothers. During these visits, a purpose rang out – to secure the best marriage possible. These women were called The Buccaneers and they included names such as Vanderbilt, Astor, Jerome, and the daughter of Marshall Field (stay proud, Chicago). The American heiress whose father had made an exorbitant amount of money could not buy the one thing that interested them – a title. European families that were once wealthy retained their titles, but since no one actually worked, there was no income to sustain the title and its prominence. Many went broke by how often they had to entertain the king and throw enormous parties on his behalf. They needed funding. “For [the titled Europeans], the American heiress was more than a mere novelty, more than just spice to be added to the endless round of dinner parties, house parties, receptions and teas. To them, she was salvation. They intended to get their hands on all that American money and see that it was spent right there in London” (p95).

The book explains clearly and easily how these matches were made, both in theory and in detail of actual marriages and relationships. The author tells of while the wives gained titles, notoriety and a public’s interest in her life, she lost a lot of freedoms she was accustomed to in America, often lived in enormous cold homes with her husband’s entire family, and was without her community and creature comforts. On the other hand, the husband retained his normal life, but could now support his mistresses better and was without the pressure to marry and have children. Some marriages were successful and many saw a partnership still unheard of in America (especially if the spouses were equally interested in politics). Many accepted marriages as a partnership where each got what they wanted (money and title) and agreed to live separate lives, even having children with other partners.

The book is not dry but filled with interesting facts and information. It features several photos on each page, showing the families, the most famous of the Buccaneers, the gowns and jewelry, the expectations,  etc. Throughout the book are little pieces of insider knowledge for living in Europe, labeled as “comme il faut” (“it is necessary, proper”): “When out driving with his mistress, a gentleman places her at his left hand so that everyone he meets will know she is not his wife;” “Friendly American curiosity – ‘How many brothers do you have? Do you know many people in New York?’ – is considered rudely intrusive in England.” “Gentlemen eat oatmeal standing up.” Well, so do I, but I am usually running out the door. That just shows my American-ness and some of the rules and expectations are fascinating to an upright oatmeal eater like myself.

If you want to know more about the world of “Downton Abbey” and just find the rigid English life interesting, you will really enjoy this book. And my favorite fact from the book – Winston Churchill, the great English leader, was a product of this era. His father was a titled Brit and his mom an American heiress. Something about that makes me think I could hold my head a bit higher next time I visit London – Winston is half ours, so don’t act so high and mighty!