Monday, June 25, 2018

I joined a book club. by Carole P. Roman


I joined a book club.
by Carole P. Roman
originally featured on Medium.com



I joined a book club. I always wanted to go to one, especially after I saw how much fun Candace Bergen was having at hers.

They weren’t reading Fifty Shades at this group. They picked Asymmetry by Lisa Halliday.

I dutifully read the book a week before our meeting and seriously thought about not showing up. It was a hard read, and while I loved the writing style at the beginning of the book, I didn’t understand the connection between the three parts and found myself puzzled, as well as bored by it.

I couldn’t deny Halliday’s talent, but to me, the book seemed pointless. I didn’t leave a review on Amazon simply because I found I had nothing nice to say.

So, it was with great trepidation I went to my first meeting. I sat in a corner thinking I had easy access to the door in case I embarrassed myself.

I pictured a room of intellectuals, sipping tea, stating obvious insights I missed. It felt like Honor’s English, and even though I passed that course about a hundred years ago, I became the same ball of insecurities once again.

Someone might ask what I thought, and I’d look like a blithering idiot. They’d smirk, or even worse, I’d say something, and it would be followed by condemning silence. I sunk into the seat, hunched over, afraid to admit that not only did I not understand the book, but I also didn’t like it either.

I had expected us to sit around and they would ‘gab’ about the chosen book. It seems that this book club hires a person to actually discuss it with the readers.

She came in with articles, research, and read the book with laser intensity, dissecting in an arresting way. I perked up. She asked questions that I could answer, not only that, she made me dust off my flabby brain and make it work.

At first, my brain chugged, it backfired silently in my head. Then, all of a sudden, my mind opened up like Dorothy seeing color for the first time in Oz. The story and plot of the book clarified the author’s intent crystallized.

I felt intelligent, erudite, thoughtful. I opened my mouth, and so much stuff came out, it felt like a great purge! I bet I lost fifteen pounds from all the knowledge that was stuck in me.

You think I’m joking? I’m NOT! It felt good to really talk to people about something I’ve read.

It didn’t matter if I enjoyed it. Everybody in that room hated the book, too, I realized. However, it didn’t prevent them from allowing the book to step into their lives and make an impact. They read and shared what they thought. They nodded and smiled at me. I felt included, if only for that hour and a half, and more importantly, I didn’t think about what happened to me in February. That I joined because I was suddenly lonely, and my status had changed from married, to widowed. It didn’t matter. This was a meeting of the minds, rather than the hearts and it felt good to give that organ a rest.

If you are stuck in life or feeling a bit outside your body or mind, join a book club and meet people in a new way. It allows you to leave your body for a bit and meet people on a level playing field.

I think it gave grief the day off.


What a novel idea.

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