Book Club Seeking New Member

I am looking for a new friend. A close friend–and one-third of my book club–moved out of town (out of state, out of the region) a few weeks ago. So, in the way I used to look about hopefully when I was unmarried, surreptitiously studying slightly geeky, attractive men about my age at the coffee shop, bar or concerts, I now surreptitiously study slightly bookish women about my age at the kindergarten dropoff or elementary school open house.

It was at the elementary open house, as I waited in the cafetorium (that’s “cafeteria/auditorium”) for the principal to give remarks, that I was especially conscious of being alone. I was in a seat with a few empty ones on either side of me, expectantly craning my neck as I studied the crowd and the new arrivals.

And I’d forgotten my book. Yes, I’d left the essential prop that, seen through the right eyes, would show my friend-to-be a few of my essential qualities.

Helen Schulman’s This Beautiful Life is about a Manhattan family moving in elite professional and private-school circles after relocating from Ithaca. The plot concerns a homemade pornographic video that a 13-year-old girl emails to the 15-year-old son, in hopes of showing him she’s sophisticated and interested. When he forwards the video to a few friends–who also forward it–it goes viral and rains down all manner of pain on the girl, the boy, and the boy’s family. The broad theme is one to which I often return in my fiction reading: A Family Is Tested. (I also enjoy books in which A Marriage Is Tested and A Friendship Is Tested.) A good novel has the drama and truth and dirt of gossip, but none of the guilt. That is, if you find yourself discussing a real couple’s trials, you realize: a) you can’t really know what’s going on with them; b) your discussing their problems doesn’t help them; c) you feel kind of gross having discussed another couple’s problems. Reading a novel leaves no bitter aftertaste.

I like to think my reading This Beautiful Life tells people something. It says I like to read new novels. It tells them I care (perhaps too much) about what the New York Times Book Review says (it got a good review!). Since my copy of the book is borrowed from the local library, it hints that I’m too frugal (or cheap) to buy lots of new hardcover books. And, yes, since it’s a book, it tells people I’m a bit of a Luddite. The downside to my preference for reading the printed word–as opposed to pixels collected on an electronic device–is that I forgot my book. (People don’t forget their iPhones. They lose them, and it’s a crisis. But they don’t forget them.) And so I glanced about me, trying not to look alone, while others in the room were engaged in conversations with friends and acquaintances, or engrossed in their phones.

Without a book, who did I appear to be? I looked like a mother, with graying hair, a tired expression and nondescript clothes. Maybe I even looked like someone’s grandmother, filling in for parents who couldn’t be there. (See graying hair.)

It’s the whole book/cover thing. But I’m suggesting you can judge a person not by her own appearance but by the cover of the book she’s carrying. And, whatever the advantages of electronic devices, you cannot judge a person by her iPhone.

Meanwhile, my son is starting to make friends in his kindergarten class. He already has little jokes he shares with them, inside jokes. He had been at the same daycare for more than five years, so I wondered how he would do with an entirely unfamiliar group. But as he seems to settle in, I realize that I–at least as much as he is–am stumbling about in a new social scene, looking for the people who will “get” me.

I’m out of practice. I haven’t had to make small talk in a while. And how do I look for friends without looking like I’m looking? (No one is attracted to someone who’s needy.)

Fortunately, I’m not desperate. I have a job, a husband, and a friend or two or three. And I have inner resources! And books!

Can you tell by looking at someone’s book if he or she might be a friend? Or do you need to know more than your eyes can tell you?

Advertisements

12 responses to “Book Club Seeking New Member

  1. If you’re looking for a good opener, have you tried: “Do you have a few minutes to talk about animal cruelty?”

  2. Just be sure to remember your book! Or be bold, walk around and say to one of the other parents “Hi, I’m Reid and that’s my son over there, which one is yours?”

    • If my son had been with me (this was intended to be a parents-only open house), it would have been obvious which one he was–the one glued to my side. Shyness runs in the family. Though, as I said, he’s settling in well. Before long, I hope to know half as many new people as he does and maybe have gained a few new friends as well.

  3. You’re looking for someone you’d like to have a conversation with, eventually about books, but to begin you have to start that conversation. I think Finn’s school will yield that new member. This Beautiful Life sounds like a really good read. I’m going online now to see if my library has it.

    • I thought This Beautiful Life was great. It was beautifully written–all the characters were well-rounded, sympathetic people. And it was short–about 220 pages. I was sorry it ended so quickly, but at least it wasn’t an unwieldy blob of a book. So many books appear to be of epic length because their authors were obligated to turn in a 400-page manuscript.

  4. I cannot even express the beauty of this essay. First of all, the poignancy is palpable. I want to sidle up to you and ask you who your child is, or if you’ve seen the new playground. But I’m also too shy.

    Then all the symbolism with books and covers.

    And how you compare your son starting kindergarten with you being adrift (esp. without a book) in a new environment. I love how he has already has inside jokes.

    But you are right: it’s so important for moms to find our friends in this new circle. And don’t we all long for someone to “get” us? Just lovely writing.

    I know exactly how you feel. It’s not easy being the new person, and a shy one at that. Where is the “in”? How do you get to the “aha” moment with a new person?

    I think a book is a perfect place to start. I love that yours is not on an iPad, not a new hardback. You stand out as someone different. I know you’ll find your new soul — I mean — book-mate!

    Warm wishes,
    Amy

    • I’m glad this struck a chord for you–though I’m surprised because you’re so good at forging new connections in new situations. Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised because so many of us are protecting an “inner shy person.” Others may not see her, but she’s there, deep down. I guess that’s what I was getting at–I realize that this is a moment of vulnerability for me, and I wanted to share it with others. I know that we all go through these phases where we’re “between friends.” Having an empty spot in my life, left by the good friend who moved, makes me especially sympathetic toward my son, and appreciative of his ability to adapt to a new group.

  5. Reid,

    It sounds like you might have the same taste in books — family drama, for example — as my good friend, Gayle. She writes about books and book reviews here:

    http://everydayiwritethebook.typepad.com/

    Amy

  6. Hi there – it’s Gayle, Amy’s friend. (Amy, thanks for including a link to my blog!) I think it’s totally ok to decide who you could be friends with based on what they are reading, and it’s a great ice-breaker. I will go up to random people and talk about books much more readily than I will about kids or any other topic. If you’d like an online book buddy, I’m always here and ready to talk. Amy’s right – it does sound we like the same kinds of books (families/marriages/friendships in crisis).

  7. Hi Reid,

    Yes, I was especially touched by your vulnerability in this post. And perhaps because I’ve felt that too. I’m definitely shy inside — not the type who goes up and introduces herself. God bless those people. They have saved me many times from sitting quietly on the sidelines.

    Amy

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s