Community Reads: A Response by Chris

It's no mean fete to get a community reading. It's even tougher to get everyone to read the same thing. Or is it? A recent New York Times article about the launch of area book clubs ("Launched for the Next Round of Read-Ins," March 4, 2009) struck a chord.

Maybe it was the Web title that belittled the practice: "Like Book Clubs on Steroids, Communities are Set to Read a Single Title and Discuss."

Maybe it was the lead that presented the image of a group of women (and a few men) reading together, quietly, in the same room, the book The Shawl (which seems more sterile than communal).

Maybe it was just me having a bad day. But all I could think of is, Please, not in my community.

It's not that I don't like "sensitive" topics, or ones that are moving or emotional or historic by nature. I know it's a challenge to get any community to read a single book — unless you're Oprah or Richard and Judy. And that's what I realized stuck in my craw: with the wrong book, a community read feels cheap.

A celebrity or Hollywood has a hankering for a title and everyone reads it. It's the first thing propped up in the Borders promenade, it's at the top of the bestseller list. Everyone has seen the movie, so the book is consumed like cheap sweets because if [fill in the blank] liked it, it must be good. These pop book-choosing entities select titles that fit a Topic. Lately, it's been the Holocaust — because, really, that is the only reason a book like The Reader could possibly be a bestseller and an award-winning movie.

To be fair, attention to such a tough topic have brought to light some terrific stories, such as the Bielski brothers who created a safe haven in the Bellarussian forests, and Oskar Schindler. I hope these kinds of stories continue to be shared because they are important and, let's be honest, entertaining. I'm sure The Shawl has that potential. And in this world, remembering the atrocities of the past are important to the success of preventing them in the future. And the modest volume Night seemed to survive Oprah's onslaught.

But other Oprah books on the Holocaust and Other Important Topics haven't been able to survive the glare of the spotlight, and have brought as much embarrassment as they did success to their authors. (Gawker's article has a little salty language, but is an excellent list of pop failures.)

Don't get me wrong: I am a communal reader. I love suggestions from my local libraries, colleges and other trusted sources and, so far, these books have been winners in my book.

I know I fret about books, worrying that people will dis my favorite pastime if the bestsellers are more like The Reader than Water for Elephants. Maybe I'm a little bit of a snob, too, which has made me skeptical of popular books that really are that wonderful, like the Harry Potter series.

At any rate, I will continue to read with my community, as long as it's not a mawkish book that doesn't deserve our time. However, my local librarians haven't disappointed me yet. They know their community, which I suppose is the key to success.

Maybe Oprah's selection of A New Earth was the best choice for her community at that time; she did choose The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, which has reviewers raving (and, yes, I will read to see if it's all that and a hedgehog bookmark).

Maybe it doesn't matter who chooses what — librarians have long advocated any kind of book to keep people reading.

Maybe the magic of communal reading is that it creates discussion and encourages reading. And that is a good thing.

Water for Elephants — Review by Chris

When Tower Records (and books!) was closing and the books were selling for next to nothing, I took the opportunity to purchase a couple of books that had sounded intriguing. Water for Elephants was one of them. I put it on my nightstand with every intention of reading it soon. Well, 16 months later, I decided it was about time.

All I can ask myself is, Why did I wait that long?

It was a fabulous, compelling book I am glad to recommend.

The novel starts out with a scene that grabbed me from the first. A personal disaster is swept aside in a second due to a bigger and badder disaster. One would think threat to life and limb would trump pretty much anything. Well, read the Prologue to find out just how little personal disaster matters in the face of true terror.

And it goes on from there.

Water for Elephants is a rich, haunting story that pulls no punches. Author Sara Gruen deftly weaves an intricate tapestry of heart-stopping action, grief beyond comprehension, love that challenges society, innocence beyond modern understanding, abysmal despair, confusion and disappointment — all wrapped in a story that refuses to unhand the reader under any circumstance.

While the action is captivating and compelling, the characters are what make this such a memorable book. The central character is Jacob, whom we meet at both the beginning and the end of his life. Jacob the elder and Jacob the younger start out as separate characters who slowly merged into a single person.

As a youth who suffers a heartbreaking loss, Jacob the younger faces life in America during the Depression, where a Cornell education is worth only as much as the food it pays for. Almost immediately, however, readers meet Jacob the elder, an ancient man who can more easily recall his life in a third-rate circus than the faces of his extended family members. Both Jacobs are pretty much living in the same moment — especially when the circus sets up next door.

Jacob's tales weave together well. As Jacob's life progresses in the assisted living center, so does the story of his youth. His life and memory unfold deliberately and richly, and readers learn what took Jacob to (and back to) that heart-stopping scene. At the same time, readers begin to recognize Jacob as he sees himself — and the man we see is not the liver-spotted, slow, cranky man who does not recognize himself in the mirrors he refuses to use.

I truly enjoyed Gruen's circus characters: the train (which is a character itself), the castes and camaraderie, their treachery and kindnesses, their unfolding relationships. I thrilled at the exciting scenes and forced myself to continue reading when animals appeared to be in pain or face frightening situations. I was moved by the desperation and friendships that created situations in which people chose actions they would not otherwise consider. I also discovered how little people have changed in three-quarters of a century.

Gruen did not sentimentalize animals, but the affection and respect she showed them on the page — and how the characters treated them in kind — is central to the novel. I have to admit, I feared I might not be able to read the book because I am extremely sensitive about animals. I could read it, but it certainly was no walk in the park (or circus).

The scenes in the assisted living center were very stirring. Those whose bodies turn them into witnesses, rather than actors, provide intimate details and information about the situations and the people around them. I was moved by the sadness and lack of dignity in the life of an eldery man whose soul is literally saved by an unexpected kindness. I was very touched by those who, despite their own situation, could (and did) summon the patience to see beyond the anger and hostility to the person beneath it all.

I am glad I read Water for Elephants and I can see why so many people have read it. I hope you are one of them; if not, I hope you will be soon.