I was listening to the news today, a report on how many newspapers continue to 
go out of business. Of course the Internet's part of the problem, but I also 
note that many people just don't like to read much news, even on the Net. It's 
why so many news outlets continue to cut the length of their articles for quick 
and easy reading--short attention span in the public. And look at how many 
people love to get their news from shouting cable stations where most of the 
"information" is delivered by screaming hosts who inject their own opinions as 
much as they deliver real news. It's more like some kind of entertainment, like 
"Weekend Update" with a pedigree.  I note many of my friends who look at me 
like some kind of alien when I tell them to watch Charlie Rose or The Jim 
Lehrer News Hour to get real news, calling those programs "boring".   I see so 
many people my age and younger who want everything quick and easy, easily 
digested, with little commitment on their part in terms of actually
 *working* to learn anything. 

I wonder if the advent of the Net, instant and text messaging, DVRs, the Daily 
Show, etc., is indeed creating new generations of people who eschew reading 
anything of length, let alone the classics? I can think of lots of people i 
know who no longer read books at all, unless their tech books for work or 
something.  

I seem to remember hearing each generation think an innovation was ruining the 
next generation's intelligence and ability to think critically: the radio was 
going to kill conversation and reading...the television was going to kill the 
family time of gathering around the radio, etc.  But I do wonder if we are 
losing things, as you say. Maybe great literature isn't the only thing being 
lost...

-------------- Original message -------------- 
From: "Martin Baxter" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> 
Thank you for this, Brent. IMO, this speaks to a problem endemic in literature 
today.

It's almost a lost art form. So many writers have been busy trying to "say 
something" that they *don't* say anything. And it's not just in pop-lit, 
either. Look at our own beloved genre. A couple of days ago, Tracey posted a 
thread asking us to name five books we each read and liked this year. I've read 
dozens, but I'm not really willing to recommend more than one, Jim Butcher's 
last Dresden novel. I saw the latest in his Alera Codex series yesterday when I 
was killing time in a Borders downtown, and I couldn't get through ten pages of 
it.





---------[ Received Mail Content ]----------
Subject : [scifinoir2] Fought Over Any Good Books Lately?
Date : Tue, 09 Dec 2008 15:56:52 -0500
>From : "brent wodehouse" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
To : [EMAIL PROTECTED], scifinoir2@yahoogroups.com

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/07/fashion/07clubs.html?_r=1&partner=MOREOVERFEATURES&ei=5040
 

Fought Over Any Good Books Lately? 

By JOANNE KAUFMAN 

Published: December 5, 2008 


JOCELYN BOWIE was thrilled by the invitation to join a book group. She had 
just returned to her hometown, Bloomington, Ind., to take an 
administration job at Indiana University, and thought she had won a ticket 
to a top echelon. “I was hoping to network with all these women in 
upper-level jobs at I.U., then I found they were in the book group,” she 
said. “I thought, ‘Great! They’ll see how wonderful I am, and we’ll have 
these great conversations about books.’ ” 

Ms. Bowie cannot pinpoint the precise moment when disillusion replaced 
delight. Maybe it was the evening she tried to persuade everyone to look 
beyond Oprah Winfrey’s picks, “and they all said ‘What’s wrong with 
Oprah?’ ” she said. 

Or perhaps it was the meeting when she lobbied for literary classics like 
“Emma” and the rest of the group was abuzz about “The Secret Life of 
Bees,” a pop-lit best seller. 

The last straw came when the group picked “The Da Vinci Code” and someone 
suggested the discussion would be enriched by delving into the author’s 
source material. “It was bad enough that they wanted to read ‘Da Vinci 
Code’ in the first place,” Ms. Bowie said, “but then they wanted to talk 
about it.” She quit shortly after, making up a polite excuse: “I told the 
organizer, ‘You’re reading fiction, and I’m reading history right now.’ ” 

Yes, it’s a nice, high-minded idea to join a book group, a way to make 
friends and read books that might otherwise sit untouched. But what 
happens when you wind up hating all the literary selections - or the other 
members? Breaking up isn’t so hard to do when it means freedom from inane 
critical commentary, political maneuvering, hurt feelings, bad chick lit 
and even worse chardonnay. 

“Who knew a book group could be such a soap opera?” said Barb Burg, senior 
vice president at Bantam Dell, which publishes many titles adopted by book 
groups. “You’d think it would just be about the book. But wherever I go, 
people want to talk to me about the infighting and the politics.” 

One member may push for John Updike, while everyone else is set on John 
Grisham. One person wants to have a glass of wine and talk about the book, 
while everyone else wants to get drunk and talk about their spouses. 
“There are all these power struggles about what book gets chosen,” Ms. 
Burg said. Then come the complaints: “It’s too long, it’s too short, it’s 
not literary enough, it’s too literary ... ” 

The literary societies of the 19th century seemed content to leave the 
drama to authors and poets, whom they discussed with great seriousness of 
purpose. Some book groups evolved from sewing circles, which “gave women a 
chance to exercise their intellect and have a social gathering,” said 
Rachel W. Jacobsohn, author of “The Reading Group Handbook,” which gives a 
history of the format plus dos and don’ts for modern hosts. 

Today there are perhaps four million to five million book groups in the 
United States, and the number is thought to be rising, said Ann Kent, the 
founder of Book Group Expo, an annual gathering of readers and authors. 

“I firmly believe there was an uptick in the number of book groups after 
9/11, and I’m expecting another increase in these difficult economic 
times,” she said. “We’re looking to stay connected and to have a form of 
entertainment that’s affordable, and book groups are an easy avenue for 
that.” 

Most groups are all-female, but there are plenty of all-male and coed 
ones. Lately there have emerged plenty of online-only book groups too, 
though - given the difficulty of flinging a drink in the face of a member 
who suggests reading Trollope - those are clearly a different animal. 

And more clubs means more acrimony. Sometimes there is a rambler in the 
group, whose opinion far outlasts the natural interest of others, or a 
pedant, who never met a literary reference she did not yearn to sling. The 
most common cause of dissatisfaction and departures? 

“It’s because there’s an ayatollah,” said Esther Bushell, a professional 
book-group facilitator who leads a dozen suburban New York groups and 
charges $250 to $300 a member annually for her services. “This person 
expects to choose all the books and to take over all the discussions. And 
when I come on board, the ayatollah is threatened and doesn’t say 
anything.” Like other facilitators, she is hired for the express purpose 
of bringing long-winded types in line. 

For Doreen Orion, a psychiatrist in Boulder, Colo., the spoiler in her 
book group was a drama queen who turned every meeting into her own 
personal therapy session. Dr. Orion was used to such people in her 
practice, but in her personal life - well, no thanks. “There were always 
things going on in her life with relationships, and she’d want to talk 
about it,” she said. “There’d be some weird thing in a book and she’d 
relate it to her life no matter what. Everything came back to her. It was 
really exhausting after a while.” 

What attracted Susan Farewell to a book group called the IlluminaTea were 
guidelines that precluded such off-putting antics. No therapy talk, no 
chitchat and no skipping meetings. “It was very high-minded,” said Ms. 
Farewell, a travel writer in Westport, Conn. Members took turns selecting 
books, “and you felt that your choice was a measure of how intelligent and 
sophisticated and worldly you were,” she said. 

The high standards extended to the refreshment table. “When it was your 
month to host a meeting, you would do your interpretation of a tea, and 
the teas got very competitive,” Ms. Farewell said. Homemade scones and 
Devonshire cream were par for the course, and Ms. Farewell recalls 
spending the day before her hostess stint making watercress and smoked 
salmon sandwiches. 

This started to feel oppressive. “If the standards had been more relaxed, 
I would have stayed in the group,” she said. “But I just felt I couldn’t 
keep getting clotted cream. I couldn’t work and carry on the formality and 
get through the novel every month, so I just said I couldn’t make the 
meetings anymore.” 

Some who leave one group find happiness in another. Dr. Orion and another 
woman broke from their original group and contacted another woman who had 
also left. “Then we secretly reconstituted as another group,” Dr. Orion 
said. “We’ve been going strong for 10 years, but our experience has made 
us cautious about inviting new members. We’ve become very selective.” 

Nancy Atkins Peck, an artist and historian in Glen Rock, N.J., has also 
made a successful transition. Until the election cycle of 2004, she had 
loved her book group - the members read “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,” novels 
by Virginia Woolf “and sometimes a paperback of no importance,” she said. 

Then, after a presidential debate, an argument about the candidates 
ensued, “so it was decided that we couldn’t read any political books or 
have any political discussions anymore,” recalled Ms. Peck, who had just 
suggested the group read a book about the Bush White House. 

“It was nixed, and I just felt that was unnatural,” given that the group 
had successfully discussed other sensitive issues, she said. She and her 
husband then joined a coed group, which has worked out well. “And we read 
a heck of a lot of political books,” she said triumphantly. 

Sometimes the problem is a life-stage mismatch among group members. “I 
know of a group where all but one member has young children,” said Susanne 
Pari, author of the novel “The Fortune Catcher” and the program director 
at Book Group Expo. “They talk for 15 minutes about the book and then 
launch into a discussion of poopy diapers and nap times and preschool.” 

Then the one member who had nothing to bring to the soiled Pampers 
conversation announced she did not have time for the group. For etiquette 
reasons, “it’s very uncommon” for people to give the real reason for their 
disenchantment, Ms. Pari said. 

Ms. Bushell, the book-group facilitator, tells of one woman who left a 
group “because she didn’t envision herself sitting around talking about a 
book - she thought some business networking would take place.” 

Another woman decamped because she wanted to read more chick lit. “I hate 
to sound ponderous,” Ms. Bushell said, “but I have a certain moral 
obligation. I don’t feel I can be paid for leading a discussion about ‘The 
Devil Wears Prada.’” 

At Book Passage, a store with two branches in the San Francisco area, Kate 
Larson is something of a Miss Lonely Hearts for newcomers and disgruntled 
book group members. “I collect names, and when I get 12 or 14 I ask them 
to come to a meeting at the store,” she said. “If it looks like they all 
agree about what kinds of things they want to read, they’ve got a book 
club.” 

Ms. Larson uses a newsletter to help people find special-interest groups - 
say, in science fiction or spirituality. Groups made up of total strangers 
seem to last longer, she said, “because the focus is truly on the book.” 

As for Ms. Bowie of Indiana University, she was asked to join another 
group but has chosen to stay unaffiliated. “My experience was a real 
disappointment,” she said. “Now when I look at a novel in a store and it 
has book group questions in the back, it almost puts me off from buying 
it.” 



 

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