March - The Summer Without Men by Siri Hustvedt

I'm trying to figure out a way to link the recent sunny weather we've been having to the title of The Summer Without Men, but I'm not having much luck.  But it has been very nice weather, hasn't it?  Oh, yes, lovely.  It's almost like summer, you might say, perhaps a summer without...  No, that's not going to work.

Anyway, we met to discuss the Siri Hustvedt novel, and I think generally we were all very positive about it.  I have to admit I had my qualms before I began reading it; I thought from the title and its rather flowery cover that it was going to be a drab piece of chick lit.  Meaning I wasn't really prepared for its arty, considered prose, its well drawn characters, and its occasional ramblings into obscure literary referencing.  (Whether that last point was part of the character, or a superfluous attempt to show-off by the author caused us much discussion; personally it was only the meta-reference to her husband Paul Auster which made me yell, "OH FOR CHRIST'S SAKE" out loudly in the staff room.)

But overall we enjoyed it, and possibly even thought it should have been longer and have given all its characters and disparate storylines a bit more meat.  Sue recommended another book by Hustvedt called What I Loved which I'll check out at some point.  Oh, and big thanks to Bev for suggesting we do the book in the first place; good pick.

Speaking of picks, we made an effort to arrange dates and some titles for future groups.  Here's what we decided on for the next few months:

May 22nd - The Tiger's Wife by Téa Obreht (winner of the Orange Prize last year)
June 19th  - Snowdrops by Andrew Miller (nominated for the Booker Prize last year)
July 24th  - The Redbreast by Jo Nesbø (first [ish] in the popular crime series)
August 28th - Winter's Bone by Daniel Woodrell (I have no interesting facts about this one, sorry)

But before all that we'll be meeting on the 17th of April to talk about Love Songs for the Shy and Cynical by Robert Shearman.  A couple of people have already said they've really enjoyed reading this one, so I'm breathing a bit easier about it now I know it won't be a re-enactment of the time I got everyone to read The Unconsoled by Kazuo Ishiguro.  I still have nightmares about the sea of silent, resentful faces.  Brrr. 

See you in April!

February - Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy

Phew - time for an update to the blog, methinks.  Quick, before all those Internet users out there believe we haven't been diligently meeting up every month and putting the world to rights by squabbling over books!  I mean, by our considered and intelligent literary discussions.  Oh yes.

February's meeting saw us discussing John le Carre's famous spy thriller, Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, which got the thumbs up from everyone apart from me because I was too stupid to understand what was going on in it.  Even though I'd already seen the film.  (To be fair, I didn't understand what was going on in that, either.)  The rest of the time was spent glaring at a rival book group also camped out in the back room of Edin's and made up of far younger and more attractive members than us.  No jumping ship, anyone!  They were doing the Julian Barnes this time, so we're one month ahead of them at least.  They all seemed very serious; we have a lot more fun at our meetings.  Honest.

Next month on the 20th March we're doing The Summer Without Men by Siri Hustvedt.  Men will be present.  But it's not summer yet, so that's presumably allowed. 

17th April we're doing - DEFINITELY DOING THIS TIME, DAMMIT - independently published short story collection Love Songs for the Shy and Cynical by Robert Shearman.  They're witty, silly and strange little stories about failing relationships, and one of the most beautiful books I've read in recent years.  Well worth getting hold of this unique collection, even if you don't manage to get to the group.  (There's various copies going fairly cheaply new and second hand on Amazon right here.  Go on, live a little.)

Please post comments and suggestions for further books below.  Post!  Post until your fingers bleed!

March meeting

Ah, the joys of a plan coming together. I did indeed feel like Hannibal when we all ended up at Edin's on the same night.

We argued about Cutting for Stone, by Abraham Verghese. A book with a phenomenal amount of medical detail; all scrupulously accurate, according to our many experts. It had us rushing to the interweb to become instant experts on Italio-Abyssinian relations. Go on, ask us anything.

In other news, we lined up a whole raft of books and dates for the future. It was a remarkable case of planning, the like of which will never be seen again. Until the autumn, anyway.

And from next month, we will be meeting in Edin's - but downstairs. Yes, they have a comfy lower floor, without the noise of other less literate geniuses than ourselves. We'll be in our own little secret lair, awaiting the Bat-signal flying over Market Square. At which point we'll either turn into avenging angels, or just order some more wine.

February's meeting...

What a strange meeting. What with being locked out of our usual venue by the grasping hand of capitalism. Score one for the Big Society. We had to change our venue to Edin's on Broad Street (opposite the Broadway cinema). Sorry to anyone we didn't manage to collect before finding a new warm place to sit.

Emma Donoghue's highly-successful Room was the order of the day. A book that divided rather than united. The 5-year-old's perspective was either a triumph of creativity, or ruined much of the book's purpose. The escape scene was either necessarily glossed over, or feebly plotted. Take your pick. No-one was invited outside to 'settle the issue of first-person perspective once and for all, sunshine'. Thank goodness. I hate holding people's coats when they fight.

A new venue, a new member (welcome, Emmeline!), and some books and dates arranged for the next few months. We're just unstoppable.

January meeting

Welcome to 2011. You know it's a new year when the private service provider operating in a partnership with public services provides additional facilities on an ongoing, symbiotic basis.

Yes, they've changed the chairs and tables in the cafe. Enjoy.

We discussed The Stars in the Bright Sky, by Alan Warner. Even people who hadn't read it joined the discussion. That's how flexible we are. Overall, we enjoyed it in a "I hope never to meet people like that" kind of way. And we all hated the last three pages.

Welcome back to Sue, previously seen organising meetings for us at Waterstone's. Nick will probably join us again next month; so it's either a Waterstone's reunion love-in, or a matter/anti-matter implosion. Who knows?

Next month is Emma Donoghue's 'controversial' Room. Almost bound to create a debate, if only because I already know one person with whom I completely disagree on it. Not hard to find a copy, either.

See you next month

Upcoming November meeting...

Just a reminder that the next meeting is on the 23rd November (7pm, Nottingham Contemporary). It's the chance you've been waiting for to pretend you're busy Christmas shopping, but are actually lounging around and yacking. We're eloquently dissecting Love on the Dole, by Walter Greenwood. If you're struggling with the dialogue in it, just imagine everything being spoken by Vera Duckworth, and you won't go far wrong.

Nick will not be joining us this month, as he's apparently cavorting with some pop star. I'll leave it to him to explain and deny any wrongdoing. I may invent some fictional scandal about him before then. But hopefully some of our new (and returning) members will join us. Maybe even Sue, taking a break from novel-writing month.

We'll also need to work out which of our 'longlist' we want to tackle in January, so we can pester relatives to buy the right book for Christmas. I know, I know, it all sounds like hard work. But it isn't. It's 'hard work' in the way that playing professional football for ninety hours a year is 'hard work'. But slightly less well paid...

October meeting

Anyone who misses those old episodes of Gladiators, should have joined us at the Nottingham Contemporary. We had everything but those giant cotton buds. I don't think a book has been so contentious, since that strange book where Whoopi Goldberg was God. Good stuff. I'm sure we went home having vented, and were nicer to family, kittens, and passers-by.

Next month is Love On The Dole, which appears to be impossible to get in a bookshop, so may require some Amazon-ing. If indeed that is a verb. You may note from last month's comments that Sue is contemplating a return. Get there early for ringside seats...