word on the street is that I'm cold and dead inside...
Having dubiously entered into this whole "being in a book group" thing nearly a year ago I'll be the first to say that I've been pleasantly surprised by the results. While they aren't always the books I'd pick for myself, they've been plenty interesting.
At the same time, I have been told, by people who know these things, that I am not the sort of person who should be reading Eat Pray Love, which is pretty fine by me because a) I find memoirs kind of horrifying as a genre and b) the tweeness of the title alone sets my teeth on edge.
So imagine my horror at the choice of Elizabeth Gilbert's follow-up, Committed for March's meeting. It's, like, a memoir about marriage. The target audience is basically someone who's my polar opposite.
[Aside: this is especially amusing in light of the fact that I am currently listening to the Eels latest, which is all about Mark Everett's divorce.]
Further imagine my horror at the fact that it was just released, ergo not in the DC library collection in any major way yet and with a hold list liek woah in the Montgomery County system and also only available in hardcover. All of this meaning that used prices haven't plummeted to the levels they'll achieve in, say, six months or so.
And the fact is that, under normal circumstances I'd be all, "screw it memoir about marriage lady, see you in May book club peoples" but I'm up next so it's my sworn duty to bring the booze for the meeting. I am as surprised as anyone that I've got lingering English major guilt about needing to read the book we are discussing even if it is, like, GD Ulysses or Daniel Deronda or something.
I am not honorable enough to drop any actual monies on this, however. And I'm not super proud that I joined Audible for the free audio book download and immediately canceled my membership, but stubborn pride and my visceral hatred of twee memoirs are hard forces to reckon against.
Take that, Elizabeth Gilbert. Or something. I'm just bitter that my first choice was soundly trounced but I suppose 2666 is a bit of a monstrous tome of a hard sell.
At the same time, I have been told, by people who know these things, that I am not the sort of person who should be reading Eat Pray Love, which is pretty fine by me because a) I find memoirs kind of horrifying as a genre and b) the tweeness of the title alone sets my teeth on edge.
So imagine my horror at the choice of Elizabeth Gilbert's follow-up, Committed for March's meeting. It's, like, a memoir about marriage. The target audience is basically someone who's my polar opposite.
[Aside: this is especially amusing in light of the fact that I am currently listening to the Eels latest, which is all about Mark Everett's divorce.]
Further imagine my horror at the fact that it was just released, ergo not in the DC library collection in any major way yet and with a hold list liek woah in the Montgomery County system and also only available in hardcover. All of this meaning that used prices haven't plummeted to the levels they'll achieve in, say, six months or so.
And the fact is that, under normal circumstances I'd be all, "screw it memoir about marriage lady, see you in May book club peoples" but I'm up next so it's my sworn duty to bring the booze for the meeting. I am as surprised as anyone that I've got lingering English major guilt about needing to read the book we are discussing even if it is, like, GD Ulysses or Daniel Deronda or something.
I am not honorable enough to drop any actual monies on this, however. And I'm not super proud that I joined Audible for the free audio book download and immediately canceled my membership, but stubborn pride and my visceral hatred of twee memoirs are hard forces to reckon against.
Take that, Elizabeth Gilbert. Or something. I'm just bitter that my first choice was soundly trounced but I suppose 2666 is a bit of a monstrous tome of a hard sell.