Discussion Summaries 2021
Tuesday, December 7, 2021: The Night Watchman by Louise Erdrich
In ‘the Night Watchman’, Louise Erdrich fictionalises the story of her grandfather, a Native American who fought against the push for termination of Indian treaties in 1953. He is represented in the book by Thomas Wazhashk, an intelligent and thoughtful man who balances family life with his job as the titular night watchman and representing the Chippewas of Turtle Mountain as the council chairman. The book also tells the story of Patrice, or Pixie, who is dealing with the disappearance of her older sister Vera, the responsibility of being the family’s breadwinner, the fear of a drunken father and her own developing love life.
There were mixed feelings about this book in the group. Generally it was agreed that there were too many characters and story threads, many unresolved, perhaps in an attempt to convey the different aspects of living as a Native American in the ‘50s. For example, the competing influences of Mormonism and Catholicism on the Chippewas’ own beliefs; the way Native Americans were viewed by others, as portrayed by the treatment of Vera, Roderick and, briefly, Patrice herself, as well as the Chippewa delegation to Washington; the difficulties of living off poor land and the poverty this imposed; ongoing attempts to ‘integrate’ Native Americans, whether through education or relocation, and so on. There was some disappointment that more wasn’t made of the final delegation to Washington and its outcome, since this was the prime intent of the book. We discussed whether the Pulitzer Prize was awarded partly because there are so few books that tell the story of the Native Americans, as many of us felt that literary merit alone would have been insufficient.
There were references throughout the book to the Native American relationship with nature and spirits, such as the repeated appearance of the ghost Roderick to Thomas, Patrice’s experience by her father’s grave, the spiritual ‘search’ for Vera and the strength Patrice draws from the hibernating bear. Some felt this was overdone, almost to the point of being kitschy, though the scenes do offer a fascinating insight into a different way of viewing the world and our relationship with it.
Some felt that, despite the ‘mosaic’ of stories, the book was an easy read with a sense of humour running throughout, whereas others didn’t enjoy it and only finished it because it was a group book. Mixed reactions always make for a good discussion! JH
Wednesday, November 10, 2021: English Pastoral by James Rebanks
This meeting was one of the few cases where everybody whole-heartedly approved of the book. We admired Rebanks' poetic, detailed descriptions of the Cumbrian countryside, the rituals of farming and raising sheep, the passing down of knowledge from one generation to another. Rebanks is also realistic about the difficulties of making a living by farming, showing the struggles that his family and neighbors went through when choosing between sustainable and industrial-scale farming. By coincidence, our meeting took place while the COP26 talks were in progress, and we spent most of our time discussing ways to reduce global warming and environmental degradation. We felt that we can make a small difference through our individual actions but that it will require a unified, global effort to bring about large-scale changes. ML
Wednesday, October 13, 2021: Summer Brother by Jaap Robben
An unusual coming-of-age story, centering around a dysfunctional family living in dire financial circumstances. To make money, a scheming father agrees to take in his severely disabled 16-year-old son, Lucien, for the summer. It is left to his 13-year-old brother, Brian, to fathom out how to care for him, deal with various unsavory characters and fall in love. The novel is easy to read, thanks to an excellent translation. However, half the discussion participants did not consider it particularly worthwhile, other than addressing the special needs of handicapped persons. EK
Wednesday, September 8, 2021: Last Stories by William Trevor
Five of us met to discuss this collection of ten stories by the prolific Irish writer William Trevor, which was published two years after his death in 2016 at 88. Trevor’s early writings were known for his wry humor, giving his stories a tragicomic version of the world. However, the group found that in this collection of stories, written in his late years, humor is conspicuously missing. In spite of this, the stories are beautifully and skillfully crafted.
Before the meeting, Michelle had proposed focusing on only five of the stories. The group agreed that this limit was a good idea – it helped to focus the discussion and, for those not so moved by the stories, to focus their reading.
Trevor brings the reader deeply into the lives of his characters – the often marginalized in society, such as children, widows/widowers, elderly, the unhappily married. Yet he preserves a sense of the unknown and unsaid. For some group members this approach made the stories seem ambiguous and unfinished, which was unsatisfying.
When reading, the stories feel like they take place in the 19th century, and then Trevor drops in a seemingly off-hand detail, such as a cell phone, that places the story in the 21st century. Trevor starts his stories in the present moment then subtly builds the whole picture of the characters’ lives as he brings the reader back to the unfolding event. The group admired both of these effects.
The group identified some common themes running through the stories – death; secrets; illusion and delusion cracked open; pity; having choice or locked in by circumstances; the vulnerabilities in relationships.
Overall, we had a very satisfying and enlightening discussion about each of the stories. We agreed that the discussion helped to clarify the ambiguities. We liked the book – some more enthusiastically than others – and recommend it as well as reading his earlier stories. KS
Wednesday, August 18, 2021: The Man in the Red Coat by Julian Barnes
Six of us met to discuss this book by the highly acclaimed author, Julian Barnes. The group found the title misleading, as this unconventional "biography" highlights not only one person, Samuel Pozzi, but also the so-called "Belle Epoque" in which he lived.
Barnes is at pains to point out that this era in France was in fact "a demented age", riddled with "political instability and crises". That may be so, but most of us felt that Barnes had overstretched himself in attempting to represent a whole age in all its complexity. The group felt that he, an experienced writer, should have structured the book more tightly and supplied a bibliography. The opinion in general was that there were too many minor characters and that too much material derived from dubious sources such as gossip columns. Keeping sight of Pozzi, the main character, was at times quite challenging for the reader.
We agreed, though, that the character of Pozzi was fleshed out more convincingly when seen within the context of the era. Pozzi was a remarkable man who, in his capacity as surgeon and gynaecologist, achieved a great deal. He travelled abroad to learn of advances in the medical field which were not yet being practised in France; these included the use of chloroform, the sterilisation and suturing of wounds and the treatment of ovarian cysts. Unfortunately, however, Pozzi was a philanderer whose liaisons contributed to a most unhappy private life and which affected both his wife and daughter. When this issue came up in the discussion, it was pointed out that sexual mores in the French upper class of that time were decidedly patriarchal; in the author`s words, "a wife was for dowry, children and social status, a mistress for pleasure".
All of us relished Barnes´ dry wit and humorous asides, e.g. when comparing the prejudices and differing outlooks on love and marriage between France and Britain. The group found that the text was complemented by the inserts of portraits and the many photos of Pozzi´s contemporaries. Certain participants expressed interest in reading at a later date a biography of Pozzi`s long-term and astonishingly feisty friend Sarah Bernhardt. DS
Wednesday, July 14, 2021: Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro
We were 10 people, 8 at the Lesegesellschaft, 2 on Zoom. 6 people liked the book, 4 people did not. Some of us thought the book was boring, not credible in many respects. Others thought there was a lot that was fascinating, and we discussed for a full hour about what Kazuo Ishiguro wanted to tell us – maybe he wanted us to think about whether it was good to develop A.I. and to “lift” people with genetic tools. We also discussed: did Klara the robot have emotions? Or did she just recognize emotions? Was Josie’s father an outsider because he did not go along with this new world? What was Klara’s role really? Was she an adequate friend for a teenager who needs an equivalent partner to discuss with for his own development? Could Klara be this adequate partner? And what about her role to replace Josie after her death? Of course, she would always stay the same, not get older. Would “to be loved” really compensate for everything? And does it really matter to a robot whether she or he is loved? We agreed on the fact that Josie’s sister had died because she was lifted and that Josie had fallen ill for the same reason. And what about the sun? Did Kazuo Ishiguro want to show us the importance of religion or criticise it? We realized that the book was full of unanswered questions, and we probably could have continued to discuss it – whether we loved it or not.
We agreed on “Klara and the Sun” not being Kazuo Ishiguro’s best book and that maybe the construction of his books is often similar and maybe also a bit repetitive. If some of us found it difficult to read the book because one has to find out things along the way, others thought that this was really the reason why his books are fascinating: he is not giving away everything at the beginning but you have to read his books very carefully to really understand them. AK
Wednesday, June 9, 2021: Factfulness by Hans Rosling
The author, Hans Rosling, was born in 1948 in Uppsala, Sweden and died in 2017, before this book was published. He spent many decades traveling the world as a physician, professor and advisor to the WHO and UNICEF, primarily in areas far removed from good medical care. He has summarized his experiences and findings not only in numerous lectures, but also, most importantly, in this book.
“Factfulness” is primarily about two things: to show the actual state and progress of the world in terms of human living conditions by means of figures, data and facts, and to find explanations why, especially in the more developed--meaning wealthy--societies, the global situation is often assessed to be worse than it actually is.
The book was well received by all participants. Some found individual chapters/explanations too long, others felt that the view on some topics was too positive. But we all thought that it is an book which opens one’s perspectives of the world. It is good that Rosling acknowledges the positive development that has taken place in recent decades and does not focus only on the negative, so one is not deprived of the motivation to believe in further improvements.
We also thought that it is important and necessary to meet people with different opinions, so that we can get to know other points of view. The danger nowadays is that one moves in a homogeneous group with similar attitudes, which is also furthered by the algorithms we are all exposed to on the web. We are constantly being supplied with messages that correspond to our own views (confirmation bias).
We soon diverged from--but were inspired by--the book itself in our discussion and talked about issues such as economic growth, consumerism, status, education systems, role of the (social) media and lifestyle. UA
Wednesday, May 12, 2021: The Carer by Deborah Moggach
Only one participant was disappointed while reading this book and felt it fell short of its potential. She did not understand the level of resentment the sister and brother had towards their father since usually all fathers are away from their children and their home a lot. Other participants expressed how much they enjoyed that in a few words we could picture the characters whose lives and attitudes changed as the plot developed. Indeed the plot, structure and dynamics kept surprising and often amused us. We discussed the dry humour and clever twists of language, even though the story often alluded to the really heavy stuff of the increasing humiliations and helplessness we face at the end of life.
The sister and brother did not look for ways to care for their ageing father themselves (some of us know the guilt to be felt in that situation). Even so, as often happens, the sister and brother resented the close relationship the care-giver had with their father (a professor of physics) who came alive so easily with this cheerfully chatty and loving woman from the working class. In spite of the carer's hard life, she had grown up in a happy family.
We agreed that the difficult challenges of ageing shown in this book would be much worse for families who are not so privileged. It is not wealth nor privilege that makes a happy family but loving and caring relationships. The meeting of the wife and the mistress was the highlight of the book as well as the thread that everyone has secrets and we can never really know those closest to us.
This is a book that can be read at many levels -- simply as entertainment, laugh-out-loud humour, as a page-turner, or a reflection on life’s profound questions. It’s well-worth googling around about the author's background. This is an author with the skills in her genes to observe and write about human-folly. We intend to read more of her work. DD
Wednesday, April 14, 2021: Pnin by Vladimir Nabokov
A hilarious campus novel, a character sketch of an awkward Russian emigrè, a portrait of 1950‘s American life. Pnin (Pain?) is all of these things, but what makes it a really great novel is its brief moments of poignant tragedy and its brilliant language, and this from an author whose mother tongue was not English. A few participants felt the wordiness detracted from their reading of the novel. For a slim novel of under 200 pages, it is not an easy read but it is not a slog. (I read it for the 3rd time and enjoyed it more each time). We conjectured on the identity of the narrator who starts out as typically third-person omniscient but then becomes a real person when he intrudes into the narrative. Only in the last chapter do we find out he is an incoming professor.
From the comical misadventures of an intellectual Russian exile emerges a tragic, loveable, humane character, so very different from Nabokov‘s more famous invention, Humbert Humbert in Lolita. While most participants enjoyed the novel, I was by far the most enthusiastic, resolving to read other works by this author as soon as I can get my hands on them. MH
Wednesday, March 10, 2021: Nemesis by Philip Roth.
In the 1940s and 1950s a polio epidemic swept the world, killing or disabling hundreds of thousands of people each year. In the USA, the epidemic reached its peak in 1952. 58’000 persons were infected, 3’100 died, and 21’000 were left with mild to severe paralysis.
This novel unfolds in 1944 in a closely knit Jewish community in Newark, initially untouched by the epidemic taking place elsewhere. (It is in fact the neighborhood where the author grew up.) At the center of the story is Bucky Cantor, a very decent young man, who supervises boys’ activities at a playground during the summer. Gradually some of Bucky’s charges become infected with polio and die or are disabled. Bucky leaves Newark, “abandoning” his boys to join his intended bride and become a camp counselor in the Poconos. The camp is a place where families who could afford it sent their children to shield them from polio. The disease eventually reaches the camp. Not only does Bucky himself become infected and disabled, but he also believes that he was the vector bringing polio to the camp. He severs his relationship with his intended bride – against her will – in a gesture to save her from having to spend her life with a cripple. The story is narrated by Arnie, one of the playground boys who contracted polio and survived with a disability. He and Bucky reconnected 25 years or so years later and began meeting for lunch.
All of the participants liked the book, including one who, because of the topic, had initially decided not to read it, changed her mind, and was happy to have read it after all. In my experience, this unanimity is seldom in the book discussions.
The story has uncanny parallels to the COVID-19 environment. If one blends out the knowledge of time and place, and the name of the disease in question, the book engenders a feeling of déjà-vu. All who read the book since the inception of the COVID pandemic (one person had read it prior thereto) felt that COVID strongly influenced how they experienced the story.
Bucky’s guilt is an important motif in the book: for not being able to serve in World War II due to his poor eyesight; for abandoning his boys at the playground to become a camp counselor; in believing that he was a carrier spreading polio to the camp. Loss of faith is another theme – how could God allow this to happen? The group noted a contrast between Bucky’s and Arnie’s resilience. Arnie had gotten on with life; Bucky had not:
There was no lightness in him [Bucky]. That was missing, as were the energy and the industry that were once at the center of him. And, of course, the athletic ingredient had completely vanished. It wasn’t only an arm and a leg that were useless. His original personality, all that vital purposefulness that would hit you in the face the moment you met him, seemed itself to have been stripped away ….
The book was easy to read according to the group’s consensus. It was found to be different from Roth’s other novels in some ways. An opinion was expressed that the characters are one-dimensional, too good to be true. This did not seem to be meant in a negative way, and I, as your reporter, am at a loss to explain it further, so I am simply passing on the thought. One participant, who has read almost all of Philip Roth’s novels, said she would not have guessed that Roth had written the book, had she not known it from the start. “Jewishness” was not a leitmotif in this story, as it has been in most of his books. One of Roth’s central questions, on the other hand , – “what should a man be?” – was indeed woven into the fabric of this story. (mac)
Wednesday, February 10, 2021: Judas by Amos Oz.
This is an old-fashioned novel of ideas--political and theological--with practically no plot, pages of exposition and little action. And yet we all found it compelling. Oz's elegant writing style captured in this fine translation and the lovingly drawn characters kept us turning the pages.
The theme of betrayal as signalled in the title is probed in the biblical story of Judas and modern Zionism. None of us had ever encountered this alternative interpretation of Judas as being the sole true believer and not the reviled traitor who betrayed Jesus.
There was some criticism of the repetitive descriptions of Schmuel's appearance and gait. One participant found the frequent naming of Jerusalem street names off-putting.
We found the ending perfect: Schmuel's hopeful embrace of the world after his retreat from it three months prior; his coming-of-age. MH
Wednesday, January 13, 2021: All That Remains: A Life in Death by Sue Black.
Professor Sue Black is a professor of anatomy and forensic anthropology at the University of Dundee. In ‘All That Remains’, she takes us through her encounters with death, from the natural deaths of close family members, through her study of anatomy, to victims of crime and natural disasters such as the Boxing Day tsunami of 2014. Her approach is matter-of-fact and her respect for the dead and desire to find answers for their relatives comes through strongly.
A book about death was clearly not going to be a universal hit and the group was polarised in its opinions, though not quite in the way expected. Several members couldn’t reconcile the mix of memoirs with factual information, with one or two describing the memoirs as ‘boring’. Others were irritated by some sloppiness in the facts (such as the death rate in childbirth in sub-Saharan Africa) and the lack of footnotes and references for these.
Others in the group really enjoyed the book, viewing the whole as memoirs and finding much of interest in the descriptions and explanations. JH