Christmas 2012 - Tuesday December 11th

Venue: Cay Tre, Soho
Present: Jen, Nic, Carl, Jane, Gill, Mark

A good turn-out, which would have been better if Shubha didn't still have post-pregnancy brain and hadn't been at home in her jimjams at the appointed time!  We shared a selection of delicious, fresh and full flavoured Vietnamese starters and mains between us and demolished a round of cocktails and 5, possibly 6, bottles of white wine and a carafe of red while we decided the following:

1. General attendance this year has been dismal; we need to pull our socks up next year.
2. Some of us had barely read the book group books this year; more socks needing to be pulled in an upwards direction - you know who you are.  I wouldn't shame you here, Mark.  Oops.
3. Votes on the night (so far as I can decipher) were as follows:

Book of the Year:
Great Expectations took it by a nose but it was a hard fought contest with votes for Giovanni's Room, Revolutionary Road, The Sheltering Sky and The Tortoise and the Hare too.  So many contenders makes 2012 a better book year than 2011!

Blooper of the Year:
Naked took it but there were votes for The Sheltering Sky and The Suspicions of Mr Whicher.

Best (nicest) Character:
Joe, Great Expectations

Best (worst) Character:
Ignatious, A Confederacy of Dunces, with votes for Magwitch and for someone (could be practically anyone) from Sheltering Sky!

Most Shocking Moment:
Magwitch in the graveyard with Pip, Great Expectations.

Most Disappointing Book of Promise:
The Suspicions of Mr Whicher

Best Improver:
Giovanni's Room

Best (most apt) Venue:
The Clarence, Suspicions of Mr Whicher

Best Venue (other)
Aldwych, Great Expectations (for unlimited Prosecco)

Best Members:
Gill and Nic - the "turning up" award

Most Apathetic Member:
Shubha - the "declaring you are back then forgetting to come" award.  (Oops and we said we wouldn't shame anyone.)

Honourable Mention:
"Proud to have finished" - Great Expectations and Titus Groan (not a lot of people can say that).

Dishonourable Mention:
"Still the worst book of all time" - Spring Snow.

#69 - The Tortoise and the Hare - Elizabeth Jenkins (Choice: Nic) (Venue: Vivat Bacchus, Farringdon)

29th November 2012
Present: Jane, Gill, Nic

Despite the low turn out we had a prolonged and heated discussion about this one.  We all loved it, despite different takes on the morality of the characters.  We were fascinated by this glimpse of a (mostly) by-gone era and wholly agreed on our distaste for Evelyn.  Our thoughts and loyalties were divided over Imogen and Blanche, however.  Imogen was very much a product of her time: reserved, lacking confidence, deferential, overly concerned with her looks.  In short, lame: a fading beauty with seemingly little else to offer.  Undoubtedly, she was kind, gentle, well-meaning but, also, she was dull; dull, dull, dull, while Blanche, in contrast, proved it was possible to be educated, opinionated and capable - albeit at a price; spinsterhood.

Questions:

Who, then, could blame Blanche Silcox for grabbing the opportunity for physical and emotional closeness with, ahem, both hands.

What loyalty did Blanche owe Imogen and why?  Because they were both women?  We discussed this at length, with some feeling that Evelyn was the only one who owed a duty of loyalty to Imogen and some feeling that Blanche too should have had regard to his married circumstances.

Seeking a more modern context, we compared Imogen with Lady Diana Spencer - conventionally attractive, doe-eyed, dutiful, none-too-bright, considered "appropriate" for The Family and allowed by her family to marry a much older man and a position and responsibility beyond her years - and Blanche Silcox with Camilla Parker Bowles - less attractive by conventional standards but intelligent, forthright and with an unspoken hint that privately, she is happy, nay, raring to, go at it like a rabbit.

We can't help who we fall in love with, "whatever love is" (sticking with the Charles and Di theme!) So, is it wrong for a married person to fall in love with someone else and leave?  We decided no, that is not wrong, that is human but, if the eventuality arises, how one extricates oneself is what counts.  We all know spouses who have left in unbecoming ways, with spiteful and unnecessary words.  Dignity and courtesy at all times, we counsel.  Evelyn did not have that.  Although, in fairness to him, a state that did not come naturally to us, we did recognise that Imogen had given him every reason to believe she would accept another woman in his life, albeit if the affair were conducted discretely and at a distance, neither of which Evelyn managed.

So, Evelyn was a barrister, Blanche and Imogen were women, the cast feasted in London, where cheese was a feature of the meal and so, by protracted argument, we justified our restaurant.  We three are women, Gill is a barrister and there is a magnificent cheese room and turophile at Vivat Bacchus in addition to a splendid wine list, which Evelyn would have adored.

And there we have it, another fabulous night!

#68 - The Sheltering Sky - Paul Bowles (Choice: Mark's)(Venue: Soif, Battersea)

Date: Wednesday, October 24th, 2012

Present: Gill, Shubha, Jen, Nic

"Here's my message.  Everything gets worse."

That's what Paul Bowles said was the message of the book.  Well, it certainly did get worse for the characters in this book.  But, we didn't love the them or, honestly, particularly care.  

This meeting combined discussions of Revolutionary Road and Sheltering Sky.  Gill summed up the view of the four present brilliantly and succinctly as follows:

"So, Revolutionary Road: Thumbs up; Sheltering Sky: Thumbs down."

I wouldn't read this again but I'd go back to Soif any time.  We had three delicious bottles of red from Languedoc a succession of delicious small and medium sized dishes and, for me Jen and Shubha, glasses of delicious liquor too - though Shubha's walnut one was the surprise winner.  Big thumbs up for Soif.

#67 - Revolutionary Road - Richard Yates (Choice: Shubha's)(Venue: Soif, Battersea)

Date: 24th October, 2012 (postponed from 7th September)

Present: Jen, Gill, Shubha, Nic.

"If my work has a theme, I suspect it is a simple one: that most human beings are inescapably alone, and therein lies their tragedy."

Thus said Richard Yates about this novel in 1999: a happy chap, obviously.

There's no denying it is a depressing tale. However, the four of us present tonight enjoyed this book immensely. It may be a contender for the BoOkSCARS book of the year if some of us (well, ok, me) are to be believed.

Richard Yates prose was simple but graceful with not a wasted word and his insight into human beings, their relationships and their motivations was extraordinary. Unlike The Confederacy of Dunces, this novel was populated with characters we all recognised and to some extent identified with. The central couple had drifted, without specific plans, in to a life that disappointed them. The thought they were better than others (but who doesn't sometimes judge others and find them wanting) and they thought they deserved better (and who doesn't sometimes think they deserve more recognition, better pay, a lottery win or some other life-changing good luck). It didn't make them nice people but it made them unfailingly human and definitely not monsters. It was impossible not to care about what happened them and essential to get to the end.  If you've missed this one, I urge you buy it, read it and let's talk about it again at another meeting.

#66 - A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole (Choice: Jane's)(Venue: Bincho Soho)

Date: August 2nd, 2012

Present: Jane, Shubha, Jen, Nic

"I'm back", Shubha announced prior to this meeting, meaning "get ready to drink".  Sadly, Jen and I rather let the side down: after drinking two bottles of Prosecco the night before, it was more luck than judgment that we'd made it at all.  Fortunately, Jane was a much better friend!

Jane changed the venue several times in the half hour before we met but this final choice was a goodie, with skewer after delicious skewer of yakitori goodness, miso soup and daikon salad, washed down with grapefruit or lemon sours, so it seemed like the evening might follow Shubha's intention.  And, with the best of intentions, after dinner, we proceeded to a lovely wine bar of Shubha's choice.  Sadly, despite the undoubtedly charming surrounds, the vast wine list and the delicious wine, after one glass Jen and I admitted hung-over defeat, hair-of-the-dog having failed to revive us, and gave up and walked slowly home while Jane and Shubha partied on.

Meanwhile, the book deserves a word.  And, for me, that word would be "tedious".  Ignatious was a monstrous character - deliberately so, undoubtedly, but too much so to enable me to care what happened to him.  The other characters (at least those introduced before I gave up) were also unpleasant.   Jen found parts of the book very funny.   Jane enjoyed it: having a theory that there was something "North American" about it that she could identify with.  Certainly, Jane "knew" (of rather than personally) people such as those depicted.  The rest of us?  Not so much.  Maybe those people exist but I'm glad I don't know them.

Whilst there's a tragic back story to this novel of an author who committed suicide as a result of depression , which it is at least speculated was contributed to, if not caused by his failure to find a publisher for his book in his life time, personally, I think the agents and publishers who originally turned it down were right.  However, it won him a posthumous Pulitzer in 1981 so what do I know?

P.S. Sept. 13 2023 from Carl: Brilliant! I loved it! Of course it was full of characters to hate but it was just so wonderfully silly. Like the policeman being forced to wear random costumes and the detectives later getting complaints about a man in a sombrero. 

P.P.S Set. 13 2023 from Jen, moments before Carl's comments: Oh yeah! I remember that book, although not the evening which from the blog is not all that surprising.

#65 - The Suspicions of Mr Whicher - Kate Summerscale (Choice: Jen's)(Venue: The Clarence, Whitehall)

Thursday June 28th
Present: Jen, Nic, Carl, Doris, Eamonn, Shubha

Mr Whicher woz 'ere

The Clarence's modern, light decor and bustling, noisy atmosphere belies its age but a sign on the exterior wall indicates that it was established in 1862.  This fact, coupled with its location on the corner of Whitehall and Great Scotland Yard, where Mr Whicher and his fellow Scotland Yard detectives were based, and our romantic dispositions leads us to believe that the great man may have drowned his sorrows here as his suspicions in the Road Hill House murder threatened his reputation and stalled his ascent through the detective ranks.

I planned to be authentic to Whicher's era and enjoy a pint or two of ale for the evening.  However, it was a beautiful sunny evening which, as we strolled to the venue, Carl announced was perfect for a few glasses of chilled white wine.  Jen provided confirmation of this on our arrival and so began the descent.

We were probably three bottles in to the night when Carl drew us to order. 

"Hands up" he said, "if you really loved this book." 

Something in his tone told you his own hand would remain resolutely by his side.  Eamonn ventured to say that he did love this book.  The rest of us looked doubtful. 

"Hands up" Carl continued, "if you thought this book was quite good." 

Still, it was obvious that Carl's arm, like the man himself when reading this book, would remain unmoved.  The rest of us spluttered into life.  We thought the story was interesting but a little detatched: academic, though not well written.  It read like a homework essay.  It was not as compelling as it would have been if it had been written as a fictionalised novel.  Of course, had it been emotionally involving, Jen acknowledges that it is highly likely she would have been unable to finish it as very bad things happen to the child.  In this book though, although his injuries were described graphically, they were presented with detachment, as matter of fact, as something historic.  One felt little involvement, little passion, little empathy with the victim or with any other character, for that matter.  The people 'were', the things 'happened'.  That was it.  True, there were interesting snippets of historical detail.  The fact that the police were so embarrassed on finding a blood-splattered ladies nightgown that they put it back and didn't record it as they did not want to embarrass the owner stands out amongst those but there were others: the fact that even suspecting a young, female child of murder caused such public outcry that it stalled the career of the country's most promising detective; the fact that detectives were so distrusted and considered an intrusion into middle class life; and so on.  Quite what would Victorian England make of where we are now: more spied upon in London by CCTV than communist China.

"Hands up" Carl asked again, "if you thought this book was absolutely awful."

And, finally, his hand twitched.  Of us all, Carl had least praise for this book, frustrated by its dull descriptions, lack of pace and constant references to other works.  All valid criticisms.  One has to accept it for what it is.  This book is a string of quite interesting facts in search of a compelling narrative. 

And we, several hours after we started out, were a string of drunks in search of the quickest way home and ebook versions of The Woman in White and The Moonstone (re-reading for some Wilkie fans, the first time for others).  Not our official next books but ones we might yet discuss in meetings to come.

So ended the best turnout of the year to date and so begun the hardest morning-after for some time.

#64 - Titus Groan - Mervyn Peake (Choice: Eamonn's)(Venue: Meson Don Felipe)

Present: Gill, Nic, Jen, Eamonn and special guest star (and honorary member) Liz.
Date: 7th May
Two things can be whole-heartedly agreed:

1. Meeting on the same date (7th) of each month has not been the hoped-for success;
2. Gill and I will turn out for every meeting!  Hardcore, we are.

So, we had a complete failure to meet in April, following a partial failure in March, followed this evening, by agreement that we'll abandon the "7th of the month" in favour of regular Thursday meetings (Jen having mastered the Italian language and no longer being in lessons).  This is likely to find favour with all as it was long the preferred day and an opportunity for a slightly later night than we've allowed ourselves on Mondays and Tuesdays!

Our numbers have also been slightly reduced: Alex is taking a "lurve sabbatical" and Nathalie wants to push on with reading her own choices; but, most embarrassingly, Jennie (as opposed to Jen) was frightened off by the prospect of seeing us again and choosing a book after only one meeting (admittedly that one meeting was "The Messiah" and a robust discussion).  Oh dear - we were trying to be inclusive and instead were just scary. 

Back to tonight.  Sherry to start, red wine to follow with an array of excellent, rustic and very tasty tapas: salted almonds, delicious olive oil (though Liz, in briefly from Italy, was, in preference, lapping up the butter like there was no tomorrow), meats, cheeses, octopus salad, chorizo, patatas bravas and many (really, many) more.  Only the bread was less-than it could be: I fear Jane has turned us all into bread snobs!

The book was not widely discussed and, Eamonn aside, who thoroughly enjoyed it, reaction of those present could be summed up in one word: Groan.

We start a fresh page, with renewed vigour on Thursday 28th June, Jen's choice.  Here's hoping for a good turn out and great book, failing that we'll have as always, excellent company and a slap-up dinner.

#63 - Naked - David Sedaris (Choice: Nathalie's)(Venue: The Old Express, Shepherd Market)

Date: 7th March
Present: Gill, Jen, Nic.

Strictly speaking this wasn't a book group meeting as Nathalie, whose choice this book was, and many others could not make it.  Undeterred, Jen, Gill and I met for dinner and a fleeting mention of the book.

The Old Express was ominously quiet when we arrived.  I found Jen sat in an empty restaurant, the staff outside having a chat and a cigarette.  One of them quickly came in to take an order from me and, when that order was for a gin and tonic, disappeared to get it from somewhere outside the restaurant.  Gill arrived shortly after and went straight for the wine, which it appeared they could provide "in-house".  Were things looking up?  Not entirely.  The menus were oddly entitled Main Courses and were presented with apologies as they were missing the pies for which Old Express is, apparently, famous.  However, the smiling waitress graciously offered to provide pies, off menu, if required, as they were the reason Jen had opted to return to our 2008 Mr Y venue.  The pie, duly received, seemed to more than satisfy Jen and was eaten with big smiles and chips.  My burger was acceptable; the onions rings excellent.  Gill's fish and chips went down pretty well, if memory serves.  Then we were offered coffee and / or the bill.  Thus it transpired there was no "Starter" menu and no "Dessert" menu.  So the "Main Course" menu was, in fact, "The Menu".

The chat was more plentiful than the food options, however, especially after we'd reviewed the book with a few short sentences such as:
"It wasn't funny."
"They were just dysfunctional."
"It was uncomfortable, like The Office."
"I just don't understand why people think it is hilarious."

And thus, glowing reviews are reserved only for the company this evening: food and book were mediocre.  The calvados at The Only Running Footman was warming and enjoyable though, so warming, in fact, that Jen and I sat at an outdoor table for several, necessitating Jen taking a later train.  That's unusual, I hear you say.

#62 - Giovanni's Room - James Baldwin (Choice: Carl's)(Venue: Balans, 60 Old Compton St)

7th February
Present: Carl, Alex, Nathalie, Gill, Jane, Jen

I was dismayed to miss this gathering because I've never been to Balans proper, only to the cafe down the road which was but a pale imitation of the original, if the reputation (i.e. word of Carl and Alex) that precedes the original is to be believed.  So, I envisage that, this night, the cocktails flowed freely and the food was enjoyed by all, which is quite my favourite kind of night.

I was also, of course, disappointed to miss what has been reported as an excellent discussion, with Gill, in particular, allegedly vocal in her strong dislike of the protagonist.  And who can blame her?  Certainly not me. 

David lied to Giovanni, to Hella, to Jacques, to his father, to himself.    He was selfish, thoughtless, dishonest and mean-spirited.  Few of the other characters fared much better: Hella was trite and would have been easily dismissed had she not exuded a level of homophobia that made her decidedly unattractive; Guillaume was simply horrible, leaving the reader (well, me) quite unmoved at his violent end; Giovanni was a preening peacock contrarily riddled with insecurities and unreasonably demanding; and Sue was a self-made victim albeit with a level of awareness and sadness that engendered some symathy for her poor treatment by vile David.  Jacques, for me, was the character who was most sympathetic; he was the first character with whom I engaged and the only one for whom I felt a glimmer of emotion.  As Jacques questioned David about why David found his lifestyle so sordid, I empathised with Jacques and with the lifestyle he was forced to live by the prejudices that surrounded him and the fears that consequently crippled his emotional and physical life and the lives of those with whom he might otherwise have found happiness instead of brief and nervous relief. 

The Paris and the time portrayed in this novel were bleak and depressing.  Theses people lived underground, fearful and guarded, hiding their true selves from most people, unaccepted in society and largely unaccepting of themselves.  Bleak, bleak times from which it is easy, living in London and working in Soho, to think that we have moved on.  However, London in general and Soho in particular are not reflective of the whole of the UK and the UK is, in any event, a million miles removed from many other places in the world.  In the USA, according to a map doing the rounds on Facebook, there are significantly more States where you can legally marry your first cousin than your same-sex partner; whilst much of Africa outlaws homosexuality and Uganda debates an anti-gay bill that would introduce the death penalty or life imprisonment for certain "offences".  Last night on UK television, Milo Yiannopoulos, a gay Christian writer for the Catholic Herald left me with the impression he found homosexuality distateful and shaming in much the way as the characters in this book so perhaps things haven't changed as much as we would like.  Milo did not come across as a happy man and his religion appeared to offer no comfort and, perhaps, the opposite.  So this tiny tome has contemporary as well as historical resonance and is all the more depressing for it. 

The dispiriting nature of the book was amplified, for me, because it was so dense and verbose. David seemed able to reflect interminably upon his life but without gaining any insights into his nature, without any intention of changing, and without giving any regard to the place of others within his life or to the effect he may have had upon them.  Having such an unattractive protagonist makes it hard for me to engage with a book. 

The book did not tell us what actually happened to Guillaume, only what David said he could picture, speculate at having happened.  He was little enough friend to Giovanni at any time but how much less at the end than ever before.  Here's what I like to think: David killed Guillaume and framed Giovanni to rid himself of two unpleasant reminders of a past (and unlived future) he chose to hide.  Oooh, he's starting to become a villian I could love to hate. 

This might be one of those books that gets better the more one thinks about it and discusses it: more enjoyable with hindsight than in the moment.

#61 - Great Expectations - Charles Dickens (Choice: Gill's)(Venue: Indigo, The Aldwych)

Present: Gill, Nic, Carl and, sparing us an hour from his off-West End success in Pippin, special guest star Ben Bunce!

So, in terms of official members, we had a 50% uplift in attendance this month, which sounds awesome ... and was.  Undeterred by the fact that there were only 3 of us (official-types and drinkers, that is), with a special offer of unlimited Prosecco for £12 when brunching, we drank enough of the bubbly stuff to make up for the rest of you and then some!  Whilst Indigo stretch the definition of brunch somewhat by (i) serving from 12.30 onwards, meaning at least two of us had breakfasted before coming out, and (ii) serving such "unbruchie" items as seared Tuna with avocado, rocket and pickled ginger (delicious!), this was a fab venue.  Attentive staff refilled our Prosecco glasses constantly from 12.30 until about 15.45, when we decided to move down to the bar and have cocktails, leaving Prosecco in our glasses, which is something I never thought I'd do.  We draw a close over proceedings there, to save Mr Barnes' blushes but not in time to save his boots.  Oh no, I've said too much.

Anyway, in between tales of family Christmases, new years and other activities, we also discussed the book, at surprising length, considering only Gill had finished it at that time (although I announce with some pride that I too have finished subsequently).  Luckily, Gill and I had watched the BBC adaptation and Carl had read the book previously in the distant but only slightly dim past.

We all agreed it was a good story.  We all agreed that Mr Wemmick was a firm favourite along with Biddy and that Pip wasn't really very nice, though he eventually redeemed himself.  We all agreed that Dickens makes for a great TV adaptation (!) though we also felt that some of the changes the Beeb made for this last adaptation went far beyond abridging and actually changed the impact of the tale: the absence of Biddy was a great loss and manipulating the story so that, for example, Pip declines to stay the night after his sister's funeral (boo hiss, bad, bad Pip) whereas in the book he stays seemed to interfere unnecessarily with the reader/watcher's interpretation of the characters.  We also thought Gillian Anderson needed to be more wrinkly to carry off being so white haired and that we liked her nervous hand-scratching and pinching but hated her strange delivery. 

Ah yes, this is BOOK group isn't it?  So, on the book: for my part, Dickens is too verbose to be readable (I KNOW others will disagree - so let's see some discussion) and his characters are too exaggerated and caricatured to encourage empathy and real connection.  I was unmoved through all the adventures and traumas and didn't care whether Pip was eventually happy or not.  Also, Dickens and I do not share a sense of humour and I find his jokes, such as they are, repetitive (Mrs Joe Gargery's refrain about not being out of her apron, about Pip being brought-up by hand, Mr Pumblechook's constant "May I" refrain) - yawn.  Ya-a-a-a-a-wn.  Where was I?  Oh yes.  I finished it.  I am unlikely to be starting another but, thanks to Gill, I have now read a complete Dickens, enhancing my classical education and that, again, is a mark of what book group is meant to achieve.

That and dinner with friends.  Not necessarily in that order.