EVENING BOOK CLUB
The WLS Evening Book Club is a very simple affair, open to all. Here’s how to join:
Borrow one of our library copies free of charge.
Hop online from 7-8 p.m. each First Wednesday for some great conversation!
New to book clubs? Come join us! There’s nothing quite like the pleasure of talking about something you just read with some nice folks who’ve read it, too.
We’ll meet Wednesday 7 December, 7-8 p.m—but in person this time! Working on a venue, and will follow up when I’ve got that sorted. Looking forward to it!
Any questions, contact firstname.lastname@example.org. Readers of the Wairarapa, you are never alone!
Wednesday 7 December: The Fell
For December, join us as we discuss The Fell, by Sarah Moss
The Blurb: At dusk on a November evening in 2020 a woman slips out of her garden gate and turns up the hill. Kate is in the middle of a two week quarantine period, but she just can't take it anymore - the closeness of the air in her small house, the confinement. And anyway, the moor will be deserted at this time. Nobody need ever know.
But Kate's neighbour Alice sees her leaving and Matt, Kate's son, soon realizes she's missing. And Kate, who planned only a quick solitary walk - a breath of open air - falls and badly injures herself. What began as a furtive walk has turned into a mountain rescue operation . . .
Unbearably suspenseful, witty and wise, The Fell asks probing questions about the place the world has become since March 2020, and the place it was before. Sarah Moss's novel is a story about compassion and kindness and what we must do to survive, and it will move you to tears.
A review in the New York Times wonders how the deep Britishness of Moss’s book will land for US readers. Wondering how this plays in NZ.
Here’s a video chat with US Author Jenny Offill, in Zoom form that didn’t exist before the pandemic but has now become standard: the chipper your bookstore host, the awkward pauses at the beginning as things start up, the polished young bookstore hose who disappears, the authors at home.
The Candy House, by Jennifer Egan.
“The need for personal glory is like cigarette addiction: a habit that feels life-sustaining
even as it kills you.”
Remarkably Bright Creatures, by Shelby Van Pelt.
“Humans… For the most part you are dull and blundering. But occasionally you can be remarkably bright creatures.”
The Bookseller at the End of the World, by Ruth Shaw
“‘I expressed my condolences and spoke about how often we are taken by surprise when someone dies. I have always believed everyone has a story to tell’”
Something New Under the Sun, by Alexandra Kleeman
“Why was the only choice paper or plastic, rathern than being able to choose to buy nothing at all?”
Strange Beasts of China, by Yan Ge.
“‘My mother used to tell me, ‘You can’t be sure that beasts aren’t people, or that people aren’t just another type of beast.’”
Klara and the Sun, by Kazuo Ishiguro.
“‘Sometimes,’ she said, ‘at special moments like that, people feel a pain alongside their happiness. I’m glad you watch everything so carefully, Klara.’”
Greta & Valdin by Rebecca K. Reilly
"There comes a time of night when it becomes okay to sit on the ground, even away from parks and boulders and other natural sitting spots."
Lea Ypi, Free: Coming of Age at the End of History
“When you see a system change once, it’s not that difficult to believe that it can change again."
Sue Orr, Loop Tracks
"The first time I got on an aeroplane, I was sixteen years old and pregnant."
“This is a female text, written in the twenty-first century. How late it is. How much has changed. How little.”
“Maybe we’re just born to love and worry about the people we know, and to go on loving and worrying even when there are more important things we should be doing. And if that means the human species is going to die out, isn’t it in a way the nicest reason to die out, the nicest reason you can imagine?”