on book clubs and snobbery

Dear Jocelyn Bowie:

We totally don't know each other, which is probably a good thing, as you apparently hate book clubs.

Which, of course, explains why things didn't work out so well for you. It appears you joined a book club in your new town for the sake of networking, which was probably your first mistake. Book clubs aren't about making business connections, they are about eating good food and making new friends and enjoying general awesomeness.

You got all snobberiffic about your new friends' book picks. I kind of get that. We've all had those moments. I recently got totally high school because a co-clubber chose The Catcher in the Rye, and I followed up his selection with Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. It was a bad move. All revenge-y, very ninth grade. But generally, I am in a book club so that I can read stuff I would never think of picking up on my own. If I only wanted to read books I expect to like, why would I be in a book club?

(Imagine all the beautiful works I would have missed if not for book club? Like Sweetness in the Belly? Black Bird? The Time in Between?)

But, Miss Bowie, did you really have to give an interview to the New York Times mocking the hell out of your former fellow book clubbers? If you think you were being polite when you told them you weren't into fiction, you totally scratched that by telling the New York Times you lied. People, like, read that newspaper, eh? All over the world.

Not cool, dude. And the Library Girl glasses only make you seem more pretentious. But maybe I'm the only person in North America who read this article and felt the need to share?

Sincerely,
Assy McJudgesalot

countdown!

(I realize this is the second time in about 10 days that I'm using the same graphic map. But, well, consider it a stand-in scene setter for now. Also, thanks a million to Sarah for sending links to info about the north -- much appreciated!!)

I can't decide whether I'm running away from summer or running toward the sun. But in a matter of days I will be in a place where the sun sets at 1 a.m. (and rises at 3 a.m.) and the temperature barely notches past 10C (if I'm lucky).

Such an adventure.

For inspiration, I've already packed The Sweet Edge and Late Nights on Air. The latter novel, funnily enough, comes up again and again as I make preparations to meet people up north. They keep mentioning the lure of the Territories, people's particular interest in the area at the moment, and the fact Elizabeth Hay won a Giller for her descriptions.

I'm also packing along Norwegian Wood, which I am still loving. Even if the author is making fun of the reader:

"'You've got this funny way of talking,' she said. 'Don't tell me you're trying to imitate that boy in Catcher in the Rye?'

'No way!' I said with a smile.

Reiko smiled too, cigarette in mouth. 'You are a good person, though. I can tell that much from looking at you. I can tell these things after seven years of watching people come and go here: there are people who can open their hearts and people who can't. You're one of the ones who can. Or, more precisely, you can if you want to.'" (p. 131)

I have to admit I don't think Haruki Murakami's work reads at all like J.D. Salinger's. But perhaps that is something in the translation....

I will admit there's a certain baffled naivete to Toru Watanabe as a main character that brings to mind Holden Caulfield. But I like Toru approximately 100 per cent more, even when he wanders into unusual circumstances I almost can't fathom.

Okay, friends. That's all from me for now. Take a look at this, though -- I think it'll make you smile on a totally unrelated note.

Also, I won't be here, but book club date's been set for Sunday. I look forward to reading and posting reviews of the book.... hint, hint....

ironical isn't a word

How do I count the ways I hate J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye?

I am on page 40 and have nearly 200 more pages until I am done this novel for Sunday's book club. I wish I had finished it the first time, when I was 16, rather than getting so frustrated by the main character's inaction now -- his very refusal to do anything, his really amazing ability to stifle and cripple his own emotions.

Ironical isn't a word. Or at least, it damn well shouldn't be.

I get that Salinger is trying to illustrate that the protagonist doesn't know as much about the world, and himself, and being an adult, and basic language, as he thinks he does. (Although a friend did spell that out for me this evening over drinks while I lamented the world at large.) But really? Using "ironical" once every other page? That's really just irritating.

I also kind of hate this line:

What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. (p. 18)

Salinger checked out. Teenage boys in every western, developed, English-speaking country since the 1950s have wanted to meet this guy to tell him about how they, too, are intellectually and emotionally stifled, and he just checked out. He went all secluded, he stopped writing, and he wouldn't let his book be turned into a movie, forcing those angsty teenage boys to grow up and make movies just like it.

I'm trying to contextualize this book as something I could enjoy reading. I simply can't put it in the same category as the teenage girl's best friend, The Bell Jar, because Plath is a better writer and her protagonist was far more depressing.

A fellow member of book club has decided to read it as a boy's journey toward a complete breakdown. I choose to read it as a case study in the male ego, with particular emphasis on what this tells me about the men I've known who love this book.

the decision

In case you were on the edge of your seat, the man in our book club has selected Catcher in the Rye.

Not to rhyme, but, well, sigh.

I tried to read Catcher in high school, and detested it. My theory is it's a boy book. In general, I don't believe in boy books -- even though there are many studies that indicate little boys, given the choice, will read non-fiction books about hockey while little girls will read fictional stories about relationships -- but I've met few men who didn't love Salinger's classic, and few women who did.

So, once I finish Anna Karenina, looks like it will be time to dust off my teen angst and read the book that inspired pretty much every single movie about boys coming of age since the 1950s.

for the boy

For the first time ever, a boy is picking the next selection for our book club. This is not as big a deal as you might think, as our book club has only met five times in about nine months.

But still. Guys do think differently than girls do. It's really exciting. That's why sometimes we (me, just me) treat the lone boy in our ranks as some sort of circus animal who will do tricks for us (again me). We (I) insist on pausing about half an hour into the discussion and turning on him. "What is the male perspective?" Suddenly, he is thrust into the position of speaking on behalf of men everywhere. (My fault. All mine. No other women in the group are responsible for this.)

Poor guy. Of course, not a lot of guys without English degrees have had to read Persuasion, so really he's not having to speak on behalf of that many people.

Anyway, one way men and women think differently about book club is that women have a tendency to send out the uber-nice "anyone have suggestions?" e-mail. This e-mail is an invitation to passive aggression, since the woman who next hosts book club will just pick what she wants to read, or what she thinks the majority of people will take the time to read. Responses to the e-mail really just serve to stress her out, and make her worry someone might be offended she didn't select their book.

Our man in book club has bypassed this, but to be honest he was unlikely to feel that bizarre guilt anyway.

So here is his discussion of a short list (edited for brevity):

"Catcher in the Rye
My theory behind this one is that it is probably the quintessential masculine book and up until this point the books have leaned toward the girly....
War Reporting for Cowards
OK this book would be different for the group because it is non-fiction, but it also touches on the form of literary non-fiction or new journalism, which would be a good topic of discussion.... but not along our usual vein of what does he mean by this?....
Fever Pitch
Nick Hornby, who wrote High Fidelity and About a Boy, both books I thoroughly enjoy, also wrote Fever Pitch, which I have always meant to read.
Love Monkey
There is a TV show I like that is allegedly based on this book. The show is very smart and amusing and I am working under the assumption the book might also be. This one is fairly low down the shortlist on account of I know nothing about it really, but I am thinking about it mostly out of curiosity.
A Sunday at the Pool in Kigali
I was thinking about this one because it is so tragic and vivid. To the point where it is really hard to read and at the same time hard to put down. It is the kind of book where at the end you just want to blow your brains out or drink heavily or drink heavily and blow your brains out, so we'll see.
I was also thinking about another Stephen King (I am not sure Different Seasons was the best way to open up to him) or a John Grisham book...."

See what I mean? Men and women approach book club in completely different ways. I say this mostly because I would never choose any of these books, so a more accurate statement would be that this man and I approach things very differently.

Except Love Monkey, which of course I'm excited about because the man selecting the books is least excited about it. I'm contrary that way, but I love the description, from one of the reviews, of a man calling his interest in a woman a once-in-a-lifetime thing, like cleaning behind his fridge.