Department Of Things Are Never Going To Get Better
Until We Start Asking The Correct Questions
Whether posed from a pro-choice supporter who encourages openness as being essential to debates over reproductive freedom and (ironically) privacy, or from a rape hotline volunteer who is working to bring the statistics of sexual assault into the public consciousness, IMO people – well-meaning and otherwise – keep asking the wrong questions.
Question, posed to a woman:
Have you ever had an abortion?
Question which *should* be posed to a man – either preceding or following the previous question – but never rarely is:
Have you ever, even potentially, [1] been the cause of an abortion?
(Translation: have you ever had sexual relations with a woman, consensual or otherwise, in which your intent was not to father a wanted pregnancy? )
Question, posed to a woman:
Have you ever been sexually assaulted?
Question which *should* be posed to a man – either preceding or following the previous question – but never rarely is:
Have you – or any male friend/relative/acquaintance you know of –
ever sexually assaulted anyone?
* * *
Department Of Doing the Thing I Wasn’t Going To Do
Moiself has started a book club.
Always the vanguard of creativity and novelty, I am calling it, Book Club.
The reason why I wasn’t going to do it: my experiences in the previous BCs I’ve been a part of.
The BCs dealing with nonfiction were fine, and more than that – highly enjoyable and educational. But when it came to BCs that included – or were totally centered around – works of fiction…not so much. What would happen: at least one of the other BC members would find out that I was a published author of fiction (something I tried to keep under wraps) and “out” me to the group. This revelation tainted the BC experience for moiself, and also, it seemed, for many if not all of the other members. I noted a deference, toward moiself, from the other members, which frustrated, saddened, and frankly nauseated me.
The other BC members would noticeably defer (sometimes downright obsequiously) to my opinions, or change theirs if they’d spoken first and then it was my turn to speak [2] and I offered a different perspective, or ask me to express my thoughts before they’d offer theirs. They’d even come right out and say something along the lines of:
“Well, as an author, you know more than I do about….”
Ick, ick, ick.
And no amount of encouragement on my part – that their opinions and feelings as readers were equally valid (or even more so) than mine as a writer [3] – seemed to relieve that deferential dynamic.
The straw which broke my BC camel’s back…
“Ooh, thank you for that.”
…you’re welcome.
As I was saying typing, the straw which broke my BC camel’s back was when we members of BC #4 were discussing A Thousand Acres, author Jane Smiley’s contemporary retelling of Shakespeare’s King Lear.
ATA was a book I did not care for. As it turned out, not one person in the group did, although the other members were initially hesitant to express their distaste for ATA, seeing as how the literary critics were coming in their pants over their eagerness to heap praise upon it (in my opinion…which I managed not to express to the BC in the words moiself has used here).
So; none of us liked it. But, why? Moiself kept her mouth shut until everyone else had spoken, when I found out that everyone else in the group didn’t enjoy reading ATA because “There were no likeable characters in the book.”
Um, okay. Moiself didn’t partucularly “like” any of the book’s main characters. But, what about the story itself – the plot, the pacing, the way the story of those unlikeable characters unfolded? I tried to present the idea that a story can be compelling without containing characters which you, the reader, find likeable or “identifiable-with-able.” I mean, seriously, dudes: who is “likeable” in Macbeth?
Moiself didn’t like the book because I didn’t like the story being told, in the way it was told. I didn’t care for the plot content and trajectory, which never engaged my attention, and…oh, never mind.
I tried, very carefully and respectfully, to offer an alternative perspective to not-liking-something, which some of the other BC members took as me trying to talk them out of *not* liking the book – which, as I ‘d already stated, moiself Also. Did. Not. Like.
Fast forward to at least two decades later. The first meeting of “my” BC was last Thursday, and seemed to be a rousing success. A nice mix of life backgrounds and opinions among the members; [4] moiself received good feedback; everyone seems looking forward to next month’s meeting. The format, which is open to modification as per members’ suggestions and preferences, [5] is fairly simple: Once a month; my place; all who are able to do so bring a plate of appetizer/canape/”finger food” type goodies to share (and/or conversation-stimulating beverages); we nosh and sip and talk about the book.
At the end of the evening we offer suggestions for next month’s book, based on the month’s theme, which has been announced in advance.
I wanted this BC, instead of specializing in genres, to offer a wide variety of reading options. I didn’t want to host (or participate in) an all fiction or all nonfiction group. In order to offer the widest variety of possibilities – and perhaps force moiself to read at least one book a year in a category I don’t normally opt for (e.g., history), moiself came up with a list of themes (and a clarification of them), which I shall ever-so-humbly share with y’all now, in case this idea is also appealing to you. [6]
Book Club Monthly Themes
* January: Literary Classics You Should Have Read
I never made it through War and Peace (and have no desire to do so now), how about you? But there are plenty of other classics I’d like to give a go (or would be willing to re-read, since I’ve probably forgotten most of, say, Moby Dick). What constitutes a “classic”? Think of your high school/college literature class reading lists.
* February: Short story collections
“If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter.”
This quote (variously attributed to everyone from Twain to Voltaire) is related to a category that never quite gets its due recognition, but in which (so-called) New World authors have excelled, from past practitioners like Mark Twain and Ray Bradbury (The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County and other stories; The Illustrated Man) to relative newcomers Edwidge Dandicat and Tim O’Brien (Ghosts; The Things They Carried).
* March: Feminism “I Am Woman; Hear Me Roar (and see me read).”
Sisterhood is powerful, as we’ll see when we delve into/revisit the classics of first and second wave feminist thought (Mary Wollstonecraft’s The Vindication of the Rights of Women; Betty Freidan’s The Feminist Mystique; Germaine Greer’s The Female Eunuch; Gloria Steinem’s The Truth Will Set you Free But First It Will Piss You Off ) as well as the “Third Wave” feminists’ updates (Roxane Gay’s Bad Feminist; Rebecca Solnit’s Men Explain Things to Me).
* April: Regional – “She flies with her own wings” (and reads with her own eyes).
Did you recognize Oregon’s state motto? Yeah, it’s somewhat…lame, but it’s a great state and region we are privileged to live in. In April we’ll affirm that by reading and discussing a book either written by an Oregon/Pacific NW author, or one that deals with Oregon/Pacific settings and/or subjects. From Ursula LeGuin’s sci-fi novels to Stephen Ambrose’ history of the Lewis & Clark expedition, this theme could include almost any literary category.
* May: Freethought “Having faith is believing in something you just know ain’t true.”
This quote from Twain leads us to themes of humanism, skepticism, and freethought. We’ll be choosing from the writings of those who are-religion free, such as the provocative manifestos of Sam Harris (The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason) and Christopher Hitchens (God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything), the memoir of activist Dan Barker (Godless: How an Evangelical Preacher Became One of America’s Leading Atheists), and the historical works of Susan Jacoby (Freethinkers: A History of American Secularism).
* June: “Pride Month” writers
From the semi-autobiographical fiction of Rita Mae Brown (Bingo; Six of One) to the essay collections of David Sedaris (Me Talk Pretty One Day) to the novels of James Baldwin (Giovanni’s Room) to the poetry of Justin Chin (Harmless Medicine)– this is yet another category which can encompass all genres. From poetry to political manifestos, the only requirement for a June book is that the book’s author identifies as LGBTQ.
* July: History and other Non-fiction
The broadest category of all, this could cover anything from self-help to ancient civilizations to true crime to WWII narratives….
* August: Memoir/Biography/Autobiography
From the thought-provoking, introspective life story of an esteemed philosopher to the behind-the-scenes memoir of a pivotal political figure to the how-it-all-happened tale of a groundbreaking scientist to the riotous recollections of a ribald rock musician, books in this non-fiction category must tell a story about someone’s life (note: I reserve the right to have veto power when it comes to books about Kardashians and their ilk).
* September: International Literature. “The world is my country….” (Thomas Paine).
The timeless works of England’s Jane Austin; the complex novels of the Russian “masters” (but please, no War and Peace); the contemporary stories of India’s Arundhati Roy; the poetry of Chile’s Pablo Neruda; the essays of Nigeria’s Chinua Achebe – a September BC book can be fiction or nonfiction, as long as its author is/was a citizen of a country other than the USA. [7]
* October: Controversial Authors
This theme could (and hopefully will) spur conversations about how we separate artists’ work from their personal lives (and whether or not this should even be a goal).
Charles Dickens critiqued the poverty and social stratification of Victorian England via his characters’ memorable stories. Yet historians who’ve read Dicken’s personal letters tell us that the man known as a compassionate champion of family values – the man who wrote so sympathetically about the plight of Tiny Tim – was a SOB to his own family. [8]
Are the stories of Sherman Alexie still worthwhile, after the critically-acclaimed author was accused of (and admitted to) sexual harassment? Will you read J.D. Vance’s best-selling memoir about poverty-stricken Appalachia (Hillbilly Elegy) now that Vance has embraced ultra conservative politics? If a writer is unrepentant when confronted with a racist remark from his past but wrote a damn fine [9] novel, do you give yourself permission to read his work?
* November: Books Made Into Movies. “You’re gonna need a bigger boat.” [10]
When it comes to film adaptations of novels, avid readers often declare, The book is always better. Here’s your chance to affirm that, or discover that, in some cases, the opposite may hold true. From Jaws to Sense and Sensibility, from The Color Purple to The Maltese Falcon, from The Wizard of Oz to The World According to Garp, this category is for cinephiles as well as literature lovers. Perhaps we’ll be introduced to books we didn’t even know were adapted into movies (I bet more of us have watched the movie Forrest Gump than have read the novel).
* December: Embarrassing Or Guilty Pleasures.
“Is That A Nora Roberts Novella In Your Pocket Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?” We’ll end the year with books we may not so eager to admit we like, because they aren’t literary enough. We know we’re supposed to read books which challenge us intellectually (that effin’ War and Peace again) – titles that would look impressive on our Goodreads resumes. Still, there are times when we want to rest our brains with a “light” read, be it a murder mystery, romance, fantasy/sci-fi, action/adventure, western – whatever your favorite genre. And sorry, although it provided a plot point for a cute movie (Book Club), as BC host and instigator I reserve my power to veto all shades of 50 Shades of….
* * *
Punz For The Day
Books Clubs Edition
Our Book club is reading a novel about anti-gravity. It’s impossible to put down.
I finally got my book Club to read Jane Austen. They just needed a little Persuasion.
Our new Book Club member says she doesn’t like Lord of the Rings,
but she doesn’t know what she’s Tolkien about.
Our book Club bartender recommended we read his favorite book:
Tequila Mockingbird.
* * *
May you like a book with unlikeable characters;
May you remember to ask the right questions;
May you enjoy the last week of summer;
…and may the hijinks ensue.
Thanks for stopping by. Au Vendredi!
* * *
[1] Potentially, as in, you had unprotected intercourse with a woman, wherein the intention was not to get her pregnant, and she did not get pregnant (but could have).
[2] In one of the BCs the format was to go around the circle, each person speaking once so that everyone got a turn, and then it was open to everyone to take it from there.
[3] Although I wasn’t there, at those groups, as a writer, but as a fellow reader.
[4] Except where politics are concerned…which came into the conversation and it seems we’re all on the left side of the page, if you know what I mean and I think you do.
[5] Although for simplicity’s sake I offered to be permanent host (hoping that *not* having to host will make it easier on someone who is interested but hesitant if a rotating host schedule is required, which I’d seen in other groups), I made it clear that it is our, not *my* group, and we can change the meeting time/place/format as we see fit to do so.
[6] Steal borrow these if you like. I’d be flattered…with a bit of attribution.
[7] This month we read The Story of My Teeth, by Valeria Luiselli. A book I really enjoyed, but probably never would have discovered, had I not created this themed list.
[8] Dickens hated his mother, was cruel to his wife and schemed (unsuccessfully) to have her institutionalized when he was having an adulterous affair. With his children he followed a pattern of initial enthusiasm followed by utter disillusionment and disparaged them to his friends (even hoping for the death of one son who’d disappointed him).
[9] Keeping in mind that “damn fine,” like any artistic judgment, us ultimately subjective, even though the “crimes” and deficiencies the author is being accused of may be more objectively defined.
[10] A quote from the movie “Jaws,” the memorable line was not in the novel but was adlibbed by actor Roy Scheider.
