last night at book club george (a woman… all the people in bookclub are women) kept putting her hand up and saying “get behind me satan” to me. first it was because i brought cookies. then because i didn’t watch TV (FFJ’s admission, not mine, i’ve learned my lesson). we were laughing so hard at one point she told me that i had to stop or she was going to throw up. i think that was the point when i said that VC Andrews’ Flower’s in the Attic is a lovely book about incest that’s perfect for late summer reading.
george and i campaigned hard to get Flower’s in the Attic as the next bookclub selection, but the other clubbers would have none of our nonsense. we laughed and shoved cookies in our mouth anyway. we haven’t had a book club meeting in ages and god it was good to get together.
last night was like my innerbooknerd’s wet dream come to life. i sat around the table eating rad thai food and discussing Written on the Body (easily one of my top-ten favorite books) with six other beautiful intelligent women. it was fucking FABULOUS. Written on the Body is just one of those books that begs to be discussed. and it was everything i’ve always imagined a discussion about the book would be. we debated the gender of the never-specified narrator, we talked about the sacrifices of love, selfishness and the beauty of the Winterson’s language.
it was so good, i think i might have wet myself a litte.
sometimes it seems like such a huge pain in the ass, a night out in the middle of the week. a night where i know i’ll be up later than usual, because it takes me forever to wind down once i get home. but it wasn’t until last night that i realized how much i miss it when we don’t get together every month.
i know, i know, a book club. it sounds so suburban soccer momish. but these ladies are anything but socceer moms. sure FFJ is well on her way to momhood, but she’s a total hip, hot mama, and couldn’t be a soccer mom even if she tried. the women in my book club are so smart and funny, and progressive. i just have a huge crush on all of them. and i’m already excited for next month, even if we aren’t reading Flower’s in the Attic.
I read Flowers In The Attic way back when, when I was about nine or so.
Explains a lot, really, when I think about it.
i read Flowers in the Attic when i was about 12. it’s about the time i decied i was gonna be ballerina and have twins named cory and carrie.
i am SO lame.
Is it wrong that the book made me yearn (and I mean yearn in the truest sense of the word) to have a brother? Seems gross now, but back in the day, it felt right!
it would be grosser if you had a brother and that book made you want to make out with him.
From ‘Written on the Body’ to ‘Flowers in the Attic’? What’s the next literary classic, ‘Interview with the Vampire’? Seriously tho, ‘Written on the Body’ is good, but ‘Gut Symmetries’ mmmm, can not explain it. Besides being a great read, and androgynous enough for hours of debate (mostly trying to figure out who is crazy and who isn’t) it’s even better after breaking up with someone.