I love my book club. It's a monthly excuse for a bunch of nerds to get together and drop all pretenses about being too cool for school. You've never attended a college section that's as animated. Of course, college was often about reading something because you had to and not necessarily because you wanted to. Not so with book club.

 

There's a nice spectrum of literary preferences among the eleven of us, so every book we cover is fairly different from the previous one. At the beginning of each book club year (we're only finishing up our second), everyone nominates three books. We then cast our votes by ranking each person's picks. It's my preferred voting system for this kind of thing because I think it best reflects the consensus. Though, consensus also means compromise... When you compromise, you tend to end up with general lack of enthusiasm.

 

Sometimes, though, these second-best picks generate heated discussions. Usually, there are a few of us who really hate the book or find that certain aspects of the book ruin what could have been a passable read. This kind of reaction is still better than an overall lukewarm response. Come to think of it, I'm not sure the dynamics of our group would allow for much of that.

 

I would say that our book club meetings usually reveal pretty divergent responses. It's less often that there's the same reaction across the board. I never expected it to happen with my book for this year: Seven Types of Ambiguity by Elliot Perlman. I almost didn't include it as one of my three nominees. I really wanted to read it, though.

 

The reviews (here and here) that piqued my interest in the book were kind of mixed, but they made me wonder if the book's apparent ambition just might have broad appeal. I liked the idea that it could be a book with something for everyone--a good story for those of who wanted something pulpy and literary high-mindedness for the big thinkers among us--, so I nominated it against my better judgment. I figured the book's gargantuan proportions was a good safeguard in that it would break the deal for anyone who wasn't totally into it.

 

I didn't want anyone turning against me if it turned out the book totally sucked, so I vocalized the page count multiple times during the voting period. "Don't forget, it's got over 600 pages!" I think I even mentioned it again after the book rose to the top. There's a lot of blame to shoulder when you compel people to read 600+ pages of suck!

 

About 60 pages in, I was feeling worried and began crafting my apologies. But, Mike finished first and he finished early on, even before we met at book club last month. He mentioned to me that he had read the thing in its entirety in two sittings, albeit long sittings on flights to and from Seattle and London. I was pretty bewildered by that. He also mentioned that it was well worth its length. I squeaked with delight and got moving on the rest of the book. I had been stalled out at page 60 for a long time, but soon found myself racing through the rest of it.

 

Not everyone finished (to be expected), but it turns out everyone liked the book! We all but dismissed what many of us agreed upon as the one fault, that the voice of each of the seven characters was very similar; despite that, each character was remarkably distinct and fully developed. Props to Elliot Perlman. You won over a diverse group of readerly and writerly types!