What should my bookclub read next?

This book. This is what you should read.

I am asked this at least once a week and it’s one of those ‘how long is a piece of string’ style questions. See also: what’s the best book you’ve read recently? In answer to which I always, always, without fail….go completely blank. I met Cesca Major (who was lovely) at a book launch last Wednesday, and she asked me this and I gaped like a particularly clueless goldfish. I must start keeping a list on my phone which I can whip out on such occasions.

Anyway, I was asked about bookclub recommendations again this week. Twice. Once with the caveat that it must not be “boring and worthy” because the previous month’s book had nearly finished them all off. Of course I asked what had occasioned this stipulation. Thoreau’s Walden - which, let me tell you, intrigues me as a bookclub choice. Apparently one of their number invariably picks such titles, but “even she didn’t finish that one”. The other asker requested “not a new book”.

And I think I have found them both the perfect book. It’s the absolute opposite of boring - so propulsive, in fact, that putting it down might prove tricky. I finished it this week and cannot stop thinking about it. And it is old, but also sufficiently new (it’s been rediscovered and republished) that half the bookclub is unlikely to roll their eyes and say “Oh, I’ve already read THAT.”

Entirely unrelated but worthy of note: I love this painting by Vanessa Bell. It captures the blissful oblivion of being absorbed in a really good book. (You can buy it as a print, should you so wish.)

If you’d like to read on and have access to the full archive, subscriber only threads, and my deep thanks and devotion for supporting the work and time which goes into this newsletter , a paid subscription is still only £5. Less than a book! Admittedly more than a library card, but cheaper than one of those hip artisan coffees. Less than some library fines I have paid. (Speaking of libraries, my dad had Moby Dick on loan for so long, that my mum told him they put the flags out when she returned it. “Really?” he said, astonished.)