Mrs S is off to her book group. “Not taking your book?” I ask, genuinely confused.
“No because it’s about what we’ve actually read and what we think about that. A conversation.” Like I’d know.
Crushed but she has a point. Us men default to a competitive disposition. In everything. We’d have flip charts and PowerPoints. Copies of the text, either first editions or avant-garde paperbacks, deliberately well-thumbed to give the aura of studious endeavour.1 Participants would take surreptitious looks at their neighbours’ texts, to check where they stand on underlinings, margin-notes and highlightings2
Oh those highlightings. Who has the best colours, the best makes of highlighter.3
And this is before we even consider plot or style or how the group should operate.
Because how the group operates is so very important. There must be rules, standards. Everyone must know where they stand, certainly before they sit.
In conventional book groups, the convenor is the host-cum-facilitator, maitre d’ or soft-power authority figure. She has set the room, positioned nibbles and snacks (clear pecking order here – Aldi, Waitrose, home-made – ) and everyone has a drink. Just one mind, at this stage. The focus must be on the page not your glass.
The evening glides as if on rails. Our host will invite each member of the group to give a view, a synopsis of their feelings. A difficult moment, knowing whether to speak first or last….or both? But eventually we get to the desired destination, everyone has made their deposition. That slight but noticeable tension dissipates like air through a puncture. Chatter in smaller groups, glasses refreshed, a sense of a job well done and, yes, even some pride at this contribution to literature.
But the male book group? Tension? Of course there’s bloody tension. I know what I think about his book and I’m bloody going to make my point first before some other gobshite jumps in ahead of me. And my view is the right view and if anyone disagrees, I’ll cut them off at the knees. Maybe literally.
And that convenor. That chair as it is styled. Who died and made him King? Who let him drive? Who nominated, proposed and seconded him? Who scrutinised the vote to make sure it wasn’t stolen? How do we hold him to account – because he bloody well needs to be.
So we might just have the right people in right place for our all-male alternative book group. But how to proceed? What’s needed are rules. Standing Orders are proposed and eventually it is agreed that yes, there should be Standing Orders. But of what do they consist, how can they be changed? Challenged?
And a record of the meeting. Notes on a scrap of Filofax paper won’t do. I want proper minutes. Everyone and thing should be on the record. I mean what’s AI for if it can’t make this happen at the click on a link?
And the book? What book? The book the book club was going to discuss? Oh it’s much too late for that now. But hey what a great evening. Thanks everyone (apart from the specious fuckwit who preened about how votes of no confidence in the chair are somehow too outré for our group – I’ll fuckin’ outré him if he tries that again). Can’t wait until our meet-up next month…….
So all male book groups are thin on the ground. But all male record groups? Now you’re talking. Andy the gas boiler man was explaining it to me.
“Started out as just a couple of mates chinwagging about music over a few beers, and then two became three, and then five, and then we started setting dates a month ahead and then five grew to eight or nine and we were getting “who are those weirdos taking up all the space” looks in the pub.”
“But the lovely thing is there was no aggro, no grandstanding or points scoring. The joy of the music and finding new music. Wonderful. I mean, apart from Peters and Lee. But even Peters and Lee has some redeeming musical quality. At least that’s what Lanky says after a few sherberts.”
“So late on one evening in November, someone, I forget who, has the idea of a musical glamping weekend. “Nothing but the countryside and music,” opined one of the group, ignoring the third and fourth key ingredients – plenty of beer and a comfy bed.
So three times a year, as many as are willing and available take ourselves off glamping. We each bring an LP – got to be vinyl, and we spin it for the others and then have a bit of a chat. “Changes in attitude, changes in latitude,” as Jimmy Buffet had it. And I’d never have heard of Jimmy if it wasn’t for this group and others will say the same, not about Jimmy Buffet specifically, but we’ve all found musical diamonds in the tastes of friends. Plus a few turkeys. A turkey free glamping trip is a rare and wondrous thing.”
So the real reason for no male book groups is not cultural, pathological stereotypes. No, they’re all in glamping camps spinning the vinyl! This is no wilderness, you just have find the right combination, push the right buttons.
But, and here’s a thought, which is better? Books or music? Wouldn’t it be fun to pit one against the other to find out. Channel 5 here I come…..
Notes
1 Well Thumbed is in fact a nascent start up in this space. For a modest fee plus postage WT will take any book and make sure it is appropriately dressed for your book club.
2 WT de luxe is a premium service for the aspiring book club attendee. Impress and intimidate (let’s be honest now) your new colleagues with this demonstration of complete preparation.
3 Need the best range of colours? The cutting edge design? The most earnest grip…..I’m sure you know where to go for all things in competitive bookgroupery.
