Dear Reader,
The endpaper Essay in the Sunday New York Times is a
must-read – like that last embrace before you and a good
friend go your separate ways. Molly Young’s “Just
Don’t Call It a Book Club” (2024, 14 January) earned
its place in my clippings collection. She described her experience
at Reading Rhythms, a gathering where people bring a book, find
a place to sit and read for one hour, then find partners to
talk about what they have just read. Depending on the venue,
snacks are available, even drinks, if it’s held in a bar
or restaurant. The event is so much fun that it’s called
a reading party! Over time, new formats, structures, and ways
to talk about books evolved. But the goal remained the same:
read silently, then talk with someone about what you have just
read.
Reading Young’s essay brought back two memories. At my
older brother Al’s funeral, I talked briefly with a friend
from his legendary teen years, which from my point of view were
fraught with mystery, daring, motorcycle jackets, and James
Dean. And now, here was that friend, mourning the loss of my
brother. Decades did what decades do to hair and skin, but his
bright blue eyes made him at once familiar.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, “you were the kid who always
had her nose in a book.” Well, yes, that would have been
me. But one of the distinct pleasures of being that kid was
being able to find my mother and tell her about what I was reading.
What a gift it was to have her listen while I sorted out plots
and characters in my mind and retell the story to her. It makes
me appreciate how this early relationship between reader and
writer made me want to be a writer. To restate another’s
writing makes it partly and wondrously your own. And to have
an audience (my mother) to listen and ask the occasional question
was invaluable.
Young’s essay also reminded me of a strategy my husband
John and I devised to get through the isolation of the pandemic.
Our library includes a rich collection of his favorite genre,
short stories. We alternated days to choose, read and restate
these gems (mostly) while making our way through fearful reports
and deflated schedules.
Reading. Sharing. Whatever gets you there, try it.
