“My honesty in book club isn’t going down well”
Anne Robinson advises a troubled reader on the pitfalls of book clubs and explains why she sticks to non-fiction.
Anne Robinson advises a troubled reader on the pitfalls of book clubs and explains why she sticks to non-fiction.
I’ve recently joined a book club, which I was really pleased about. But I’ve realised that my honesty about some of the books – which I’ve frankly found trite – hasn’t gone down well.
I enjoy our discussions and don’t want to cause problems, but also want to give my true opinion. What is your advice?
When I hear a female friend is about to join an all-women book club – very few are mixed or men only – I want to say, have you considered alternatively journeying solo down the Amazon and picking off the alligators as you pass them? I’m serious. In your case, clearly there is an understood etiquette. The group is expected to be polite, so no one criticises the book choice. Frustrating for a reader who has firm opinions and wants to voice them.
Then there’s the book club where some of the original members have English degrees and are mainly there to pour scorn on anyone who dares to admit a book choice defeated them. Or that they’ve never heard of WH Auden and surely everyone’s favourite poet is Pam Ayres?
Many of these problems occur because no one gives enough thought to the club’s membership. Thus, as it expands, it is likely to include enthusiastic readers but ones who have nothing in common with the founders. Matters are further exacerbated by the club meeting on a weekday with wine and supper.
Some – having drunk more than enough wine – are unstoppable. Even if, in truth, they have failed to read the book being discussed. This causes the rest of the group to long for an egg timer, while the host for the night is concentrating on her chicken Kiev and cross if she sees someone moving it round their plate rather than eating it.
I am part of a non-fiction book club. It was my idea because I read very little modern fiction. I also hate fantasy novels, historical novels and detective stories. We are only six in total: four women, two men. Five have degrees, then there’s me who has only passed her driving test.
We meet every six weeks or so at 11am on a Saturday with coffee and biscuits. Note: no wine, no chicken Kiev. We are friends and respect each other’s opinions.
So far, I have learnt a great deal more about communist China, the story of Facebook, the state of Gaza, media moguls and how Churchill’s English daughter-in-law became American ambassador to France.
If someone wants to join us, the core membership will consider the request and discuss whether the person is sufficiently like-minded to fit in. Politically, we are a mixed bunch, but I can’t say this matters.
You might think you would rather stick hot needles in your eyes than join us. But for a year and a half our set-up has worked like a dream.
(Hero image credit: Emanuel Wiemans)
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