No, I’m not talking about Obama. Although, I do find it lovely that we now have two renowned “O”s regularly appearing in our national spotlight. I am instead talking about the Original O.
Oprah.
When it comes to books, I am both drawn to and put off by her. Here is the attraction. It goes without saying that she has spurred thousands, if not millions, into reading – and I am all for that. She has made thousands, if not millions, of dollars for new and experienced (and sometimes dead) authors – and I am all for that. When I look at her list of recommendations, I see many of my favorite books. Here’s the put off. Once or twice a year, I will actually commit to picking up an Oprah’s book club recommendation (I don’t do this often because I feel like a “sell out” placing that book with the prominently placed “O Book Club” sticker on the counter, as if the Avid & Discerning Literature Reading Gods are looking down on me with furrowed brows (am I crazy?)). At least twice in the last two years, I have disliked the selection, including the current selection, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle (how can you not love a book about dogs?). This shouldn’t be a problem, right? Books are like art. Books are art. Their beauty is wholly subjective. The problem is that I am in the middle of Sawtelle and, although I realize I cannot go on, I sense Oprah’s presence each time I put down the book (ostensibly for the last time). I wonder if there is something she “got” while reading the book that I am not getting. Maybe she is a card carrying member of the Avid & Discerning Literature Reading club and I’m just pretending???
No, of course not. But until I shake my illogical relationship with that O book sticker, I will continue on my quest to read every book that might end up on O’s list before it ends up on the list. But, this book Sawtelle, I am going to put down.
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