AT HOME: The Book Club
I'm invited to sit in as members discuss a novel about an octopus, and share in the pain of federal cuts.
By Loraine Page
COLUMNIST
Whenever I've complained that I'm lonely, a standard piece of advice has been “Join a book club.”
It's a great way to have meaningful discussion and lighthearted fun, they say.
Recently, I had the opportunity to join book club members at their monthly meeting, offering a chance to watch the dynamics.
It was my daughter's book club, and it was her turn to host. She'd selected a book for them to read that happened to be the charming hardcover novel I'd dropped off at her house.
I was surprised she read it and liked it so much that she picked it for her book club.
On the designated evening, I arrived at her house early, in time to watch her contend with hostess nerves. She was doing everything right. The house was spotless, the snacks were arranged temptingly on the kitchen island, and the rambunctious dog was sequestered in the basement with his favorite toys.
“Probably only a few will show up,” she said, to calm herself.
Promptly at 7 o'clock, all 7 members arrived. They burst through the front door, awash in loud, happy greetings, along with hugs and utterances about the frigid night air.
In the kitchen, as they sipped wine, dipped chips in salsa, and cut thin slices of cheese, they caught up with each other's lives, mostly with cheerful anecdotes about family members.
I could see that these women were more than co-members of a club. They were friends.
After snacks and chatting, everyone found comfortable seating in the living room, where my daughter was getting ready to recite the book discussion questions, which she had downloaded from the Internet.
The questions prompted hearty discussions. Why did this character feel this way? Why didn't so-and-so end up with that person? Would you have made the same choice in her shoes?
The thoughtful answers showed me that everyone seemed to have liked the book — and the characters — very much. Some didn't “read” it the way I did; rather they listened to it, via audio book apps. One member didn't read it all, but she asked for a summary and liked the storyline.
Remarkably Bright Creatures, written by Shelby Van Pelt, centers around Tova and people in her life. She is the night cleaner at an aquarium, where she gets to know Marcellus, the wily Giant Pacific Octopus.
Tova has experienced tragedy, which she copes with by working hard. Marcellus understands her pain and knows how he can help. The book might be fanciful — this is an octopus who speaks to the reader! — but it's still based on life's pain and also its joy.
The discussion portion of the meeting sparked remarks about octopuses, about their intelligence and other amazing traits they have. I am listening, and all of a sudden, I realize that the book club's last book was about octopuses.
Wait, what?
Apparently, a member had suggested a certain non-fiction book about octopuses, but most of the members found it to be dry — and unreadable.
I am surprised — again! — by something my daughter says. She told everyone there is a really great documentary they should watch. It's called “My Octopus Teacher.”
This is one of my favorite documentaries. So favorite, in fact, that while I was visiting my daughter's house once, I forced everyone to watch it. I found it on Netflix, and we sat there until it was over.
She looked bored.
Or so I thought. Now, I realize I miscalculated. I guess she's not always thinking what I think she's thinking.
The evening of light-hearted fun was coming to a close. I heard some members talk about what's next — what date? what book? Others had resumed chatting about their families, only now, being late, the conversations were a bit subdued.
One woman had begun talking about her daughter who had started her first full-time job at the Naval Academy. All of a sudden, she burst into tears. In the midst of crying, she apologized, but her friends said no apology needed. We are here for each other.
Her daughter had called, distressed and miserable. The White House DEI cuts had resulted in programs and classes being canceled at the Naval Academy. She was hurting for her daughter, who she said has studied and worked so hard and didn't deserve this.
Others in the room began talking of the cuts that are happening, especially the layoffs of federal workers in the defense arena. This type of talk was happening as some of the women were finding their coats and preparing to leave.
At the same time, loud booms against the basement door could be heard. My daughter asked if I would go downstairs and let the dog come up.
I did, and he not only came up, he raced out the front door, disappearing into the woods.
Some of the women asked if they could help, but my daughter said no, but thanks. We've got it.
She was stressed, though. Milo is sometimes difficult to find. But this time, after only a short period, he came racing home. We don't know for sure if it was the squeaky toy my daughter was outside squeaking or the freezing winter air.
I took my leave then, telling my daughter she did a great job with the book club hosting.
On my way home, I thought about the patterns of life — joy, sadness, concern, hope — and how these are reflected in so many things. In a book club meeting. In a mother-daughter relationship. Even in a dog who thought he wanted freedom — but realizes warmth and people who care about him are what he needs.
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