This morning, I started reading the novel James by Percival Everett, which was assigned for reading and discussion at my next book club meeting. So far, I’m finding the book entertaining, unusual, and funny.
Every time I pick up a book to read that has been assigned by the book club, I’m just a little hesitant. Reading a book that I have not personally selected is a bit of a gamble. Will I like it? Will I hate it? Will I find it boring? Last month, we read The Names by Florence Knapp, which I found difficult to read because of its focus on a physically abusive husband. The month before, we had read Sorry I’m Late: I Didn’t Want to Come: An Introvert’s Year of Living Dangerously. I found it mildly entertaining.
Participating in a book club can be entertaining and educational, even if I find the book itself boring or less than satisfying. Listening to others’ opinions sometimes gives me a different angle from which to evaluate the book. We don’t always see the same book the same way.
By the way, so far I’m enjoying James. It has made me laugh out loud more than once, and I’ve read less than a hundred pages so far.
