So, the inaugural meeting of The Highly Selective Book Club With Only Two Members (TM) was very successful. I feel like we should have taken a picture to commemorate the event. I can’t wait to pick the next book, which will hopefully happen Saturday. I’m already thinking of titles to suggest.
Since this was our first meeting, we didn’t really have any rules and regulations (are those called bylaws? I want bylaws!). We’ll have to hammer out a few details for next time, but this is what I learned this time around:
-- Coffee is good. Very good. Coffee should be a required book club beverage.
-- I should spring for the good bagels, even if it’s a bit of a drive to get them.
-- 10 a.m. is not a good time to meet to discuss a book. 11 a.m. would be better, especially on a day when I don’t have a gazillion other things to do.
-- Jae should bring his own paper and pen.
-- I need to take notes as I’m reading the book. My thumb is sprained from flipping through the pages trying to find certain passages.
-- Two is a good number for a book club, no matter what anyone else says.
-- Picking titles out of a hat made from an animal’s skin may seem creepy, but when the book is Virgin Suicides, it is somehow fitting.
-- I am a much more motivated reader when I have a deadline.
-- We should not choose a book either of us has read, started reading, or heard too much about. We should also not choose a book when either of us has seen the movie version. (I’m talking to you, Jae.)
So, Jae and I met this morning to discuss Virgin Suicides. We had to do our book discussion at the unfortunate hour of 10 a.m. because I am too much of a social butterfly. The only time I could fit him into my weekend schedule was before work (and next week is Thanksgiving-and-Sheri week, so that was out). I do not do my best thinking in the morning, so I’m sure I forgot to make some key points. There were bagels and cream cheese and yummy Starbucks coffee with chocolate creamer to fortify us and a great discussion of the book which segued into a discussion about how society handles tragedy.
The consensus was that Virgin Suicides is a good book with some very confusing and unexplained (and unexplainable?) messages. Jae made some good points that I hadn’t considered, especially about how men need to “fix” things and are intrigued by a woman’s mysterious qualities (whether those mysterious qualities are real or imagined). Eugenides has an interesting writing style and a way of throwing out off-the-cuff comments that stick with you ("the two year-old Catholic mistake” is still my favorite). This is a book filled with sexual and religious undertones, suburban decay and familial rot, wasted youth and numbing adulthood. Now I’m really interested in reading Middlesex.
There’s no doubt that Jeffrey Eugenides is a talented writer (a Pulitzer prize-winning writer, at that), but there is a certain smugness about his writing, as if he’s just a little too impressed with his own cleverness, that gets on my nerves. It’s a minor sticking point and hopefully one he outgrows in Middlesex. I’d also have to say he has a twisted little imagination. Makes me wonder what he’s doing when nobody is watching. Then again, maybe that’s the point of the book.
Speaking of Christmas, and what else would we be speaking about at this time of the year?, why is it so damn hard to find a nativity scene that’s right? I mean, c’mon people, we’re talking tradition here. The old-fashioned, Christian based tradition of the nativity. Why is that so complicated??
What am I talking about? I’m talking about a nativity scene that includes all the principles and isn’t made out of plastic, fabric or cork. I’m talking about Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus with faces (not faceless art deco blown glass in pastel colors). I’m talking about the three wise men (with camels) and Gloria, the angel. I’m talking about a stable that looks like a stable and not a shoebox, a trailer or a Barbie Dream House. I’m talking about animals that belong in a nativity: cows, oxen, sheep and donkeys. Maybe a cat, but certainly not dogs, and definitely not a lion (I kid you not, I’ve seen a nativity with a lion). It would be preferable if the baby Jesus were removable from the manger for those who wish to observe the tradition of leaving the baby Jesus out of the nativity until Christmas day (I personally don’t care, but it’s a nice touch). It would be good if Gloria hung from the front of the stable and even better if there were a lightbulb behind her to cast a ethereal glow.
The Fontanini family comes closest to getting right, but then they’ve been doing it for over a hundred years. They’re expensive, but it’s amazing what I’m willing to pay to have a baby Jesus who looks like a baby and not a Weeble.
I had the right kind of nativity when I was a kid, which is why I’m so picky. One of my favorite memories is setting up the nativity each year and hanging Gloria just so in front of the lightbulb. The stable had a straw-like roof, the wise men were appropriately ethnic (never mind that Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus were all peculiarly white) and everyone had a happy, reverential expression. I was slightly disappointed there wasn’t a little drummer boy, not realizing the song was written in 1958 (I just looked that up) and had nothing to do with the original nativity.
Keep your burnished metal nativities, your burlap doll nativities, your papier mache nativities. Give me an old-fashioned nativity scene and leave the lions, tigers and bears to Sigfried and Roy.
As I predicted, something had to give and it was NaNoWriMo. Sigh… it’s still a great idea and I really want to finish this book, but it’s not going to happen in November. Too much on my plate this month, most of it self-inflicted. I’m annoyed with myself for not completing this challenge, it’s not like me to start something and not finish it. At least, not something I want to do. I think I may take two weeks in January and finish the book, just to have it completed. I’ll call it KriNoWriMo. I still want one of those nifty NaNoWriMo T-shirts, though.
Meanwhile, the to-do list keeps growing as November slips away. Some of it simply won’t get done and that’s a fact I need to accept. I really don’t know why I put so much pressure on myself at this time of the year. It’s not like anyone else is going to notice if my cabinets are organized or be impressed that I’ve baked every cookie from scratch. I mean, really, who cares? The answer to that, of course, is: I care. I care about the details and the traditions and, yes, the rituals. I care about making people happy and cooking good food and decorating and card writing and thoughtful gift buying. I care because it matters and it’s important, regardless of how much I complain. And, believe me, I will complain.
I am three days behind in writing for NaNoWriMo. THREE DAYS. Three days is a long time not to write when you only have 30 days to write a book. I fear I may not recover from this setback. Damn. I will try, though. Just not tonight. This girl needs rest.
I think I’m sick, but it’s hard to tell when I’ve been suffering from the allergies from hell since, oh, around February.
Other than not feeling well, my reasons for not writing this weekend include seeing Elton John Friday night and seeing a Broadway touring company’s production of Rent Saturday night. Both were great. I’ve seen Elton before-- fifteen years ago, in fact-- and he is one of the few performers I’ll pay eighty bucks to see (as compared to the $22.00 I paid in 1988). Rent was amazing and entertaining and I must, must, must have the soundtrack. Maybe Santa will bring it for me.
There is also much to do before Thanksgiving and I really don’t know how I’m going to get it all done between now and next week. I probably won’t, and by Thursday it won’t really matter, but right now I’m stressing about it. Thanksgiving is NEXT WEEK. How did that happen? I’m not ready!!
Don’t even mention Christmas to me.
What’s it all about?
Life. Love. Writing. Editing. Sex. Books. Romance. Movies. Friendship. Photography. Teaching. Coffee. (Lots of coffee.) Travel. Feminism. Academia. Insomnia. Memories. Experiences. Rants. Raves. Reviews. Chocolate. Mmm… chocolate. Musings of an insomniac writer. Want to know more?
