One Clear Winner at Dan's

Dinner and Acknowledgments
 
May brought the Man Book Club Teddy Wayne's The Winner — a beach read and male bodice ripper with aspects of The Great Gatsby's class anxiety and a relationship between a young man and an older woman harkening back to The Graduate. The Winner was not a winner in the eyes of the MBC, but it did earn several positive reviews as a quick summer read.

There was one clear winner last Tuesday: our host, Dan. After starting us off with oysters on the half shell and gin and tonics, he delivered a full east coast seafood feast — crab and lobster rolls, split pea soup, and Cape Cod potato chips — finished off with his secret-recipe homemade chocolate chip cookies.
 
Our Review and Discussion of The Winner
 
Dan led off the discussion by admitting he had preferred two of the other four books he'd proposed — The Greatest Beer Run Ever by John "Chick" Donohue and The Greatest Player Who Never Lived: A Golf Story by J. Michael Veron. But following the MBC's democratic ranked-choice voting, Dan embraced the club's selection and found The Winner entertaining, particularly enjoying how the protagonist, Conor, appears to have gotten away with murder.
 
Tom also found it an easy read full of excitement. He enjoyed how Conor, the handsome young tennis pro, finds a wealthy older divorcée with a strong libido willing to help finance his summer after law school. Conor carried the story even as his honesty remained constantly in question. Tom found the plot flowed well and liked it overall.
 
Larry did not like the book. He found Wayne's writing reductive, relying on labels rather than descriptive prose. He cited as an example how Wayne dispenses with two local boys by describing one as having "red acne peppering his thick neck" and the other as his "dim-looking sidekick." Larry felt the first part of the novel seemed an attempt to rewrite The Great Gatsby, while the second part was essentially a procedural account of how someone might get away with murder. But nowhere, in his view, did Wayne demonstrate real literary sker dim.
 
Paul drew a comparison between Conor and Catherine — the older divorcée — and the relationship between Dustin Hoffman's young character and Anne Bancroft's older woman in The Graduate. Paul had little patience for the male characters who inhabit Cutters Neck, and found Conor — for all his good looks and ambition — honestly rather dim. Though Paul hadn't finished the book, he could see where it was headed and found it hard to push much past the halfway mark.
 
Andrew found the book modestly enjoyable (for a mass market read!) but felt the author leaned too heavily on class stereotypes. He liked it well enough until the second half, when Conor appears to lose the moral grounding provided by his long-time mentor, Richard--a grounding that gives him a success in tennis and in law school, all while supporting his single mother. Once Catherine enters the picture, Conor abandons his moral compass, driven by lust and, later, a desire to become part of the Cutters Neck crowd.
 
Roy did not finish the book, but took a dim view of the Conor character.
 
Terry found the book lightweight — essentially a step-function story of a character's turn toward the pursuit of money. He found the murder unbelievable. Terry did find it ironic that Conor initially views the Cutters Neck set as morally bankrupt, only to become one of them by novel's end. He noted, with some unease, that people like Conor do exist in the world.
 
Stan called it a great beach read — a well-written page-turner that reminded him of Cape Cod. He did wonder, with some amusement, how Conor ever found time to study for the bar exam given everything else going on, but concluded it was a fun ride.
 
Our Rating of The Winner

Beach read or a failed attempt at psychological fiction? The MBC wanted it to be both, and that ambivalence showed in the scores, which ranged from 3 to 8, and averaged a subpar 6.2. If you came in expecting no more than a summer read, expectations were met. If you were hoping for serious literature, they were not. The Winner wasn't a true MBC winner — but it entertained, and it gave us plenty to argue about over lobster rolls.

Next Up

We meet next at Larry's to discuss Captain James Cook's final voyage, as rendered by Hampton Sides in The Wide Wide Sea.  Larry gave us an interesting set of choices, but the topicality of AI (Age of Extraction), the appeal of a recent Booker winner (Flesh), the promise of a Canadian road trip novel (The Passenger Seat), or the chance to finally read Pynchon (Vineland) were not enough to keep us from going back to Sides' tried-and-true formula for nonfiction.  

Just Southern Food at Paul's

Dinner and Acknowledgments.

The intrepid Man Book Club headed north to Sonoma as Paul hosted us at his Glen Ellen home last Sunday afternoon.  The venue and atmosphere were a perfect foil for the gritty reality of this month’s book—Bryan Stevenson’s autobiographical Just Mercy, the story of one attorney’s crusade to prevent the execution of prisoners across the South.  Paul’s vineyard home was as far as one could get from the bleak death rows in Stevenson’s book.

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Paul rose to the occasion—as host and as Southerner-in-spirit—by serving a full Southern spread: grits with a Creole tomato gravy, shrimp, sausage, and collard greens.  It was precisely the kind of meal that the men Stevenson writes about would never have tasted in the sordid conditions of their incarceration—at least, not until their last meal.  Well done, Paul, on both the hospitality and the not-so-subtle reminder of what was at stake in our book.

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Our Review and Discussion of Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson.

Just Mercy is part memoir, part legal argument, and part moral reckoning.  Stevenson, a Harvard Law graduate who founded the Equal Justice Initiative in Alabama, tells the story of his early years as a capital defense attorney in the South.  The narrative alternates between the harrowing case of Walter McMillian—a Black man sentenced to death for a murder he did not commit—and a series of related vignettes about other inmates whose stories illuminate the systemic failures of the American justice system: its racial disparities, its disproportionate treatment of the poor, and the troubling ease with which it imposes the ultimate punishment on those least equipped to fight back.

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As a group, we found the book admirable but, at times, almost unbearably heavy.  Several of us—Dean and Dan among them—acknowledged that it wasn’t Stevenson’s writing that wore them down, but rather the weight of the material itself: the racism, the desperate circumstances, and the sheer accumulation of injustice.  Dan, who watched a 60 Minutes segment on the book and admitted he made it only 70% through, wished the narrative had focused exclusively on McMillian.  Those who found the multi-story structure frustrating, though, were outnumbered by those who appreciated it.  Paul and Tom both liked how Stevenson moved chapter by chapter between individual stories and the broader issue of unequal justice, even if it did (according to Larry) give the book the feel of a long-form magazine piece.  Tom was also struck by how easily a young person running with the wrong crowd can end up on death row, a point that resonated with those of us who have raised teenagers.

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Much of our admiration, predictably, was reserved for Stevenson himself.  Stan, who read the book more than a decade ago but listened to it again on Audible, was struck by how Stevenson dedicates his entire life to this crusade and by how horrifying it is that a single man’s perjured testimony can send an innocent man to death row.  Stan could relate, at least in part—he spent six years early in his career working for a nonprofit before concluding, with some reluctance, that he needed to “make a living.”  Glenn commended Stevenson for finding his calling in serving those on death row and inspiring many others to do the same.  He also posed the awkward question of how we’re expected to rate a work of non-fiction—especially one suffused with so much moral urgency—against conventional literary criteria.  

Andrew found Stevenson’s closing argument during the hearing on the motion to set aside McMillian’s conviction especially powerful—a moment that, Andrew felt, captures the essential message of the book: our judicial system makes it far easier to impose the death penalty on defendants who don’t deserve it than to set it aside when the evidence demands otherwise.  Andrew also observed that while efforts like Stevenson’s have helped swing the pendulum back toward a more just system, a troubling question lingers: why should equal justice depend on the political climate of where you happen to live?

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Our Rating of Just Mercy

When the ratings came in, we landed at a well-deserved 7.6—one of the stronger scores we’ve given a non-fiction title.  Terry, who didn’t finish the book, sat this one out numerically.  The rest of us clustered in the 7–8 range, a tight consensus that reflected our collective sense that the book’s importance and Stevenson’s achievement were not really in dispute, even if a few of us found the reading experience more draining than enjoyable.  We agreed that sometimes we need to be reminded of the privileged lives we lead in Marin (and Sonoma) County.  Just Mercy did that for us this month—a stark reminder that in parts of this country, equal and fair justice remain just words for too many people, particularly those of color or those too poor to afford adequate legal representation.

Next Up: The Winner by Teddy Wayne

Dan is our host for next month, and he’s steered us away from the death rows of Alabama toward what promises to be considerably lighter terrain: Teddy Wayne’s The Winner.  We look forward to whatever Dan has in store for us—and trust that the book, whatever its merits, will produce fewer existential crises than our last selection.

Tahoe Weekend 2026

Terry ventures out

Our Sierra retreat last weekend was blessed with an abundance of snow and cursed with a storm that stranded us on I-80.  Hoping to arrive Thursday afternoon, instead we were met by a Caltrans crew in Colfax who closed the highway due to "zero visibility."  After waiting things out at Auburn's Alehouse, Terry, Paul, and I descended another 1,500 feet to secure two precious hotel rooms in Roseville.  Meanwhile, Tom and Larry--who wisely decided to wait until Friday to depart--enjoyed a little schadenfreude at our expense. Everything improved once we arrived in Truckee on Friday afternoon.  The weather was spectacular, the snow ubiquitous, and the company excellent.  As in the past, we fell into our familiar routines of outdoor exertion and indoor excess.  The following illustrates the sanitized parts of our weekend....

Above: Plenty of snow at the house, especially for these two city slickers.

 Right:  Paul's dinner on Friday started with outstanding crudites, to which this picture does no justice.  Too bad we have no pictures of the main event: a nicely-paired butternut risotto, grilled sausages, and falafel salad.

Right: On Saturday morning, the snowshoe hike started off in promising fashion: Terry broke trail and the rest of us took advantage of his hard work.

Below: Things eventually deteriorated. Peter's moody glare, Paul's heavyweight down, and Terry's vamping slowed our progress.

Above: At the turnaround point,  Andrew, Larry, and Terry are standing at the western edge of the Martis Valley, with Northstar's back runs in the distance.

Below: Of course, it had to happen.  No outdoor swim at 6,000 feet is complete without time on the snow!

A trip to town for coffee and a little truth--but no sighting of our favorite one-armed barista.  She remains MBC lore.

Peter and Larry, who spent far too long in the warming hut and far too little time on the trail. (Unseen are the rest of us, nibbling cookies off to the side.)

Paul, in a rare moment of contemplation, sits quietly while Tom prepares his world-famous lasagna on Saturday.  Terry, sporting technical plaid, plays coy in front of the camera.

Left: Peter thinks no one is looking as he tucks in for seconds.  Yes, Tom's lasagna and fixings are that good!  

Below: At dinner's end, a group shot. (Note the infamous painting above the fireplace. It only took five men and a ladder to hang it last year.)

 

No Shortage of Sound at Jack's

Dinner and Acknowledgments...January found the Man Book Club exploring a collection of twelve loosely connected short stories in Ben Shattuck’s The History of Sound. While the stories ranged widely—from lost love to murder mystery—recurring settings, characters, and ideas quietly tied many of them together, often across decades.

The book was selected by the evening’s host, Jack, who set the mood with Cape Codder cocktails and Cape Cod chips before leading us fully into New England with clam chowder, Johnny cakes, and a hearty Guinness beef stew. Dessert—a memorable Old Rasputin chocolate cake—provided a fitting finale before discussion began.

Our Review and Discussion of The History of Sound by Ben Shattuck

Jack opened the conversation, noting how much he enjoyed the short story format and the subtle ways several stories were connected. He admitted, however, that readers needed to brace themselves emotionally before starting each story, especially the final piece involving recording cylinders (“Origin Stories”). Jack appreciated Shattuck’s writing style—clean dialogue, no long sentences—and singled out the interaction among the three friends heading to the cabin in “August in the Woods” as particularly effective.

Glenn enjoyed the book overall but questioned why the Winslow notes in The Journal of Thomas Thurber ended before the murders were resolved, feeling the conclusion came too abruptly. He also appreciated “The Auk,” especially its exploration of an extinct bird and the weight of loss it carried.

Stan liked the collection but found that the abundance of short stories made it difficult to latch onto a single character or storyline.

Larry felt the book was uneven. Some stories, like “Graft,” drew him in, while others, such as “Radiolab,” felt more contrived. He noted a recurring theme throughout the collection: the pivotal moments in life where choices permanently alter one’s path. He cited “Graft” as a prime example, where a young girl’s decision to scar her face reverberates throughout her life, forcing reflection years later when she encounters a young boy in a museum. Larry also mentioned characters who linger in regret, wondering what might have been—such as the young gay man who never follows up after a transformative summer encounter.

Terry appreciated the short story format, finding it allowed him to suspend disbelief more easily. He enjoyed the ambiguous endings and admired how Shattuck subtly knitted storylines together across the collection.

Andrew found the book charming, describing it as a blend of parables and O. Henry–style surprise endings. He highlighted stories like “Graft” and “Tundra Swan,” both of which explore how seemingly small decisions carry long-term consequences—whether a self-inflicted scar or stolen trees that are never put to use.

George also liked how the stories were connected but found the shifting timelines—sometimes spanning over a century—confusing.

Tom admitted he had only made it about a third of the way through the book but said that so far he was enjoying it, with “Graft” standing out as his favorite.

Doug found the collection uneven but engaging. He noted that it’s uncommon for short story collections to be linked in this way, and for him the book felt like climbing a ladder—each story an extension of the opening poem. Doug especially liked how Shattuck blended themes of nature and the arts and enjoyed spotting the small “Easter eggs” that tied stories together, such as the grafted apple tree from “Graft” reappearing in “Tundra Swan.”

Dan, the final reviewer, said the book wasn’t his favorite. He struggled with the frequent jumps in time, particularly in “August in the Woods,” where the narrative suddenly leaps forward seven years. Despite recurring settings and references, Dan found the new characters and storylines disorienting and felt the collection was hard to follow as a whole.

The MBC was especially pleased to welcome two infrequent attendees, Peter and George. It was great to reconnect—Peter newly retired (again) and George visiting family. Though Peter hadn’t had time to read the book, his presence added to the evening’s convivial atmosphere.

Our Rating of The History of Sound

Overall, with twelve distinct yet loosely connected stories, members gravitated toward different aspects of Shattuck’s writing—style, structure, theme, or emotional resonance. This may reflect Shattuck’s tendency toward ambiguous endings, as seen in stories like “Graft” and “The Silver Clip,” which leave readers to imagine what comes next. In the end, The History of Sound offers twelve New England stories and invites readers to linger over their meaning, their connections, and their unresolved conclusions. With these thoughts in mind, we gave Shattuck's collection a well-deserved 7.9.

Up Next:  Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson

Paul's proposed titles for next month were eclectic, to say the least.  With Nabokov's Lolita and Spigelman's Maus both vying for our approval, we instead tilted in favor of criminal justice and a memoir of hope and redemption.  No, not the one by Anthony Ray Hinton, who was freed after 30 years on death row, but rather the memoir by his supporter and longtime capital defender, Bryan Stevenson.  We'll see if our choice is vindicated when we meet in March at Paul's.  In the meantime, we'll convene in Tahoe in February and see if any of the early January snow still remains.

Searching in Vain for Gold at Tom's

Dinner and Acknowledgments

Despite our best intentions, the MBC couldn’t quite turn The Alchemist into gold when we met on December 2. Tom, our host for the evening, certainly tried—treating us to an excellent spread of Middle Eastern dishes: hummus, baba ganoush, shawarma, pita, and several bottles of his award-winning San Marino Cellars wines. 

The menu paired well with Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist, which follows Santiago, a young Spanish shepherd, as he travels across North Africa in pursuit of his “Personal Legend.” Though fewer than 200 pages, the book traces Santiago’s journey from Spain to the Egyptian desert, where he ultimately discovers that the treasure he seeks lies not under the pyramids but back where his quest began. Along the way, he faces temptations to settle into comfortable lives, yet chooses each time to continue onward, guided by mystics, kings, and even bandits.

Our Review of The Alchemist

Tom described the novel as a pleasant, concise read. Having read it decades ago, he welcomed the opportunity to revisit it. He enjoyed following Santiago’s transformation—from shepherd to crystal merchant to desert traveler—and appreciated the book’s themes, particularly Santiago’s romantic attachment to Fatima and his choice to pursue his quest despite it.

Stan wished he could have read the book in its original Portuguese but still found the English translation reflective of other Brazilian literature centered on village life. He saw the book as a string of parables exploring the consequences of life choices.

Dean compared the novel to the Bible, reading it as an homage to the New Testament, especially as Santiago wanders the desert in search of spiritual clarity. He wondered whether the simplicity of the writing stemmed from the translation, but ultimately saw the book as a meditation on self-discovery and the idea that no single religion holds all the answers.

Terry had mixed feelings. At its best, he found the book a solid allegory; at its worst, an exercise in Christian-style positive thinking. He felt Coelho intentionally left room for readers to insert their own state of being and personal perspective.

Doug appreciated the story’s “go for it” sentiment but found the book more self-help than literature. Even so, he valued its affirming message that faith—whatever its form—can manifest in daily life.

Larry felt the book would have held more meaning for him in his youth. Now in his seventies, he sees himself at a life stage similar to Santiago’s ending—comfortable, grounded, and surrounded by family. For Larry, life’s journey eventually becomes less about personal dreams and more about those we love.

Dan didn’t rank the book among his favorites. Despite its brevity, he didn’t find it a quick read (though he appreciated that his edition included pictures). He couldn’t believe how often Santiago lost his money to swindlers. Still, he was glad to have read it, even if it left little impact.

Glen echoed the feeling that the novel is not literary fiction. He found the character development thin and thought the book would fit well in a high-school curriculum. He did appreciate its short length.

Garth felt the book attempted—but failed—to convey the idea that each person is connected to the greater world. He cited the scene in which Santiago “becomes the wind” as particularly clumsy, noting that such transcendent experiences can be portrayed much more effectively. He shared an example from his own life, recalling a similarly immersive moment while snorkeling in the Galápagos.

Paul approached the book hoping for encouragement about pursuing one’s dreams, and that is exactly what it provided. Though he didn’t consider it a great work, he felt he took something meaningful from it.

Andrew described The Alchemist as Eat, Pray, Love for teenage boys. To him, it read like a Hallmark-style guide to spirituality, with a smorgasbord of feel-good ideas designed to appeal to the widest possible audience. 

Jack sensed there was a message somewhere in the story, but felt it was obscured by its young-adult tone and a parade of familiar allegories. Though he found a few passages compelling, he was mostly relieved the book was short.

Rating The Alchemist

In the end, the MBC agreed that while The Alchemist didn’t spin itself into gold for the group—earning a subpar 5.4—it has certainly been a golden goose for Paulo Coelho, with more than 150 million copies sold since its 1988 publication. Our general recommendation: for readers just beginning their life journey, or for those still searching for their Personal Legend, this short novel may provide meaningful inspiration. Or perhaps the real lesson is simpler: sometimes the treasure really is buried right beneath the tree in your own backyard.

Up Next: The History of Sound by Ben Shattuck

Jack proffered a surfeit of excellent titles, among them Nathan Hill's Wellness; Ben Shattuck's short story collection, The History of Sound; Preparation for the Next Life by Atticus Lish; Devil Makes Three by Ben Fountain; and Adam Ross' Playworld.  We opted for the shortest in page length not from laziness but more out of curiosity about a short story writer whose work has gotten rave reviews.  We'll see in January if they're deserved.

Breaking News! No Codpieces Reported at Roy's!

 

Dinner and Acknowledgments

Roy hosted November’s Man Book Club with a seafood spread that the characters in The Shipping News could only dream about. We feasted on Dungeness crab bisque, three varieties of raw tuna, a pesto pasta, trays of roasted crab with butter and garlic, warm bread, and a generous scoop of homemade paw-paw ice cream to finish.  

(Note: the frozen paw-paw was smuggled in from Indiana and had us all wondering: why isn't this delicious fruit available in California?)

Our Review and Discussion of The Shipping News by Annie Proulx

The menu perfectly matched the theme of Annie Proulx’s The Shipping News, set in a rugged Newfoundland fishing village where life and livelihood depend on the sea. The Pulitzer Prize–winning novel (1994) follows Quoyle, who, after a failed marriage and the death of his wife, returns with his aunt and two young daughters to his ancestral home on a remote Newfoundland spit. There, he rebuilds his life while uncovering the legacy of his forebears.

This was the second Annie Proulx book the MBC has read—her Wyoming Stories also earned strong reviews. Though the settings are separated by thousands of miles, both works captured the group’s admiration for Proulx’s craftsmanship.

Our host Roy, an accomplished fisherman himself, began by noting that every trip to sea feels like an adventure. For the characters in the novel, though, the sea is their livelihood—often harsh and unforgiving. Roy appreciated the book overall but found Proulx’s detailed character sketches excessive. He also thought the rope knot descriptions that open each chapter were a bit much—though he did note that the bowline is one to remember.

Glenn, on the other hand, loved Proulx’s descriptive style, especially the way the story ends with two lost souls—Quoyle and widow Wavey Prowse—finding connection and hope.

Tom came to the book with high expectations after enjoying Wyoming Stories and wasn’t disappointed. He found Proulx’s depictions of daily life fascinating and admired how she often closed chapters with dark, vivid lines.

Stan, a longtime Proulx fan, gushed about her ability to create deeply human characters—ones you either love or loathe. He admitted he wishes he could write like that himself.

Paul also focused on Proulx’s descriptive power, though for him it became too much. Despite multiple attempts, he found her prose dense—at times “like reading cement.”

Dean agreed that the descriptive detail, while evocative, sometimes became repetitive. Still, it helped him clearly picture Newfoundland’s bleak, gray atmosphere. He liked Quoyle’s transformation—from socially insecure to confident journalist for The Gammy Bird, the local newspaper—and noted that parts of the book read like a film script.

Doug, usually quite contemplative, kept his comments brief. He couldn’t quite connect with the story but appreciated the range of opinions around the table and was glad he read it nonetheless.

Larry also enjoyed the novel, having read it years earlier. This time, he gave it a full reread to focus on Proulx’s craft and her portrayal of Newfoundland’s fading fishing industry. He admired her concise yet vivid character sketches, though he found the overall plot thin.

Andrew echoed many of these sentiments. He noted that Newfoundlanders are often looked down upon by other Canadians—a theme subtly present in the book. While he didn’t find the plot compelling, he appreciated how Proulx wove smaller redemption arcs throughout. Some passages were so beautifully written they will stay with him for months. He also confessed to doubting some of Proulx’s unusual word choices—only to discover, upon checking, that she used them perfectly.

Jack took a hybrid approach—reading half and listening to half. He struggled to sympathize with Quoyle early on, particularly in his handling of his wife, Petal. He enjoyed the character work but thought there were too many repetitive descriptions of the Newfoundland coast and weather. Still, he found it a solid read overall.

Rating The Shipping News

In the end, the group agreed that Annie Proulx is a brilliant stylist who occasionally overindulges in description. Yet her language and sense of place more than compensate for a thin plot, redeeming Quoyle—and the novel itself—against the vivid backdrop of Newfoundland’s harsh, sea-bound world. In appreciation, we gave The Shipping News a 7.8 rating.

Up Next:  The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

We meet next at Tom's to read Coelho's inspirational novella, The Alchemist.  Surprisingly, none of us had read the book when it was first published in 1990.  We'll see if Coelho's spiritual brand of storytelling turns lead into gold for MBC.

--Larry

Catching Up On Our 2023-2025 Books

After Paul's phenomenal luncheon in July 2023, MBC continued reading and eating, but its online posts went quiet.  Thanks to Larry's initiative, our blog posts resumed last May.  What happened during our hiatus?  Here's a condensed account, with apologies to certain hosts (and authors) for more than a few omitted details:  

September  2023  Host - Larry

We met at Larry's to dine on beef/rice/corn/almonds (yes, those are my notes!) and talk about Ishiguro's (then) latest novel, a prescient tale of AI embodied in a robot named Klara.  Purchased as a companion for a sickly child, Klara develops an intelligence and sensitivity that forces one to ask what it means to be human and to love. As a group, we didn't love the book but we found ourselves deeply affected by its characters and the ambition of its author.  For that, we gave it an 

8.0.

November 2023  Host - Stan

Stan hosted us for our discussion of Geraldine Brooks' novel Horse.  Since our meals are often themed with our books, Stan avoided uncomfortable questions about the provenance of his entrée by serving seafood, not red meat. Once we'd tucked in and begun discussing the book, a clear consensus emerged: no one liked the modern frame story, but everyone liked the novel's inner story.  

The development of American horse racing in the south, as illustrated by the champion Lexington (whose offspring included the famed Preakness), and the role of the enslaved trainers and groomsmen, was a story fascinating unto itself.  What was not fascinating was the forced 21st century story of art, love, and racism.  Nor were we persuaded by the sanitized diction of Brooks' 19th century characters. (The use of the word "slave" is studiously avoided by both oppressor and oppressed.)

If Brooks' intention was to prod her reader into seeing and thinking about a southern economy built on slavery, it certainly worked.  If not for the clumsy framing of an otherwise interesting episode in American history, we might have rated it higher than 6.5. 

December 2023 / January 2024  Hosts - Glenn and Doug

Due to its length, we read Kingsolver's much-acclaimed Demon Copperhead over two months.  In December, 2023 we and our spouses dined in Glenn's barn and shared passing comments about the novel.  But only passing, because Glenn's food and venue were too distracting to allow for more. Then in January, 2024, we retreated to Doug's for a fuller discussion of this 2023 Pulitzer Prize winner.  (We also enjoyed Doug's roast pistachio salmon and his two excellent desserts--a whiskey cake and a toffee cake, the former perhaps a reminder of the substance abuse so central to our story?)

Yes, the novel is long, and yes it's a re-telling of David Copperfield, but it's populated with an unforgettable cast of characters drawn from rural Appalachia (U-Haul, Fast Forward, Maggot, Angus, and of course Demon himself). We found Kingsolver's narrative about the cycle of poverty, domestic violence, and opiate addiction uplifting in spite of its themes.  Our comments said it all: "among my top 5" (Andrew), "did not want it to end" (Jack), "great characters" (Glenn), "fascinating" (Roy), "developed a complex relationship with the book" (Paul, who always develops a complex relationship with our books), and "puts Hillbilly Elegy to shame" (Doug). Our effusive reaction pushed Demon Copperhead to the top of our ratings with an 8.9.

February 2024  Host - Dean

Dean hosted us in February for a discussion of Toni Morrison's 1988 Pulitzer winner, Beloved.  Naturally, we ate as our novel's characters ate--or rather, as they fantasized about eating.  Dean's turkey, homemade bread, butter, and blackberry pie were taken from the meal enjoyed by the novel's protagonists (all escaped slaves) just prior to the arrival of the bounty hunters.

Our enthusiasm waned though when it came time to share our reactions to the book. A rewarding read? Maybe. A painful read? Absolutely.  From the outset, Morrison makes it clear the reader's on an arduous journey.  Her characters suffer almost unendurable trauma, only to realize that freedom cannot exorcise the pain of memory. Morrison's famous line aptly reflects her characters' pain and her white reader's guilt: "...the future was a matter of keeping the past at bay."  Before we set aside our discomfort, we applauded Morrison with an 8.0. 

April 2024  Host - Terry

In April, we gathered at Terry's to share our reactions to Kingdoms of Savannah, a mystery set in today's south but with the legacy of slavery haunting the margins of every page.  Alas, we were not impressed.  But we were impressed by Terry's menu.  With oven-fried chicken, beans, mashed potatoes, biscuits, and chocolate cake, Terry's version of southern comfort food was pitch perfect.

On the surface, Green's novel had the earmarks of a successful southern gothic mystery: a wealthy, landed class bent on protecting its own, a matriarch whose dysfunctional family eventually pulls together, and a murder whose investigation sets fire to it all.  Unfortunately, it had a dime store paperback feel (Jack), plenty of misogyny and twisted characters (Paul), a candy high after our previous titles (Dean), and was overwrought and unbelievable (Doug).  The most interesting plot development (i.e., the revelation that the island targeted for development was the ancestral home of free Blacks who fought for the British during the Revolutionary War) is saved for the end, but by then it was too late for most us.  Our 6.0 rating said it all.

June 2024  Host - Roy

Our book in June gave Roy the perfect opportunity to display his Japanese culinary skills. Accompanying the freshly-caught panko halibut was an egg custard (Chawanmushi), spinach salad with black sesame (Goma-ae), a cucumber salad (Namasu), and bean sprout with sesame and vinegar (Moyashi). 

His bounty contrasted with the bleak post-war environment depicted in No-No Boy, which chronicled the struggles of Japanese-American men who, while interned during WWII, were given loyalty questionnaires. Those who, for reasons of conscience or principle, answered "No" and refused to serve in the US military were sent to a federal penitentiary.  

We all were deeply moved by the plight of the novel's protagonist, Ichiro, who returns to Seattle after the war and can find neither work nor a place in the Nisei community.  We were also touched by Larry's account of his family's internment experience.  However, we were not impressed by the quality of the narrative: few likable characters (including the protagonist), aimlessly plotted, and an ending without closure. If not for its evocation of a seminal moment in our nation's history, No-No Boy would not have earned our modestly positive 6.9 rating.

August 2024  Host - Tom

When Tom hosted us in August, he served us old-fashioned southern food to aid our discussion of a middle-aged man's return home to Memphis, at the request of his sisters, to deal with his father's infatuation with a much younger woman.  Despite its 1987 Pulitzer Award for Fiction, Peter Taylor's finely-etched story of marital, sibling, and generational conflict failed to interest us nearly as much as Tom's menu for the evening.

The writing was fine in an old-fashioned sort of way, but there was too little to sustain our interest.  As a quiet study of southern manners, the story might have worked.  But when the message is simply that there's no escaping 1) your southern roots, 2) your domineering father, or 3) your own miserable relationship, our response is: 1) it's unsatisfying, and 2) it ain't Faulkner. Garth's comment was the most damning: the book felt like Ambien laced with Thorazine.  

September 2024  Host - Jack

In September Jack introduced MBC to Dennis Lehane and his 2023 novel about family, race, and mob politics during Boston's 1974 school desegregation crisis.  With some criticism for its "beach read" feel and its pat ending, we mostly found Small Mercies to be a worthy end-of-summer escape. 

Primed with Jack's excellent shepherd's pie, we dug into Lehane's murder mystery in South Boston and found ourselves mired in a discussion of the effects of school desegregation in the 1970s. Dean saw it in San Francisco, Roy lived through it in Indiana, and Stan experienced it in Marin County. Tom, on the other hand, noted that his large public high school in Siskiyou County was almost entirely white. With those asides, we concluded that the strength of Lehane's novel (apart from a mystery well told) was its ability to paint the various shades of hate and racism in convincing detail.  For that, we awarded him a 7.5.

October 2024  Host - Larry

In October, we convened at Larry's for a delicious paella and a spirited discussion of Percival Everett's 2001 satirical novel, Erasure.  Any discussion of Erasure is complicated by the nested narratives that Everett clearly had fun assembling.  The reader learns at the end that the story is in fact a movie about a story about a book written by an impoverished academic posing as a Black street kid with an authentic new voice. The whole thing is a send-up, the ultimate meta-narrative. So our comments on the story wandered into and out of the main story and the street kid's story (aptly named Fuck) with mostly appreciation for Everett's cleverness.

Doug chided us for falling into the very trap set by the novel's protagonist, a professor who is so white in culture and upbringing that he has to contrive a ghetto story written by a fictional hoodlum in order to sell his work.  But we didn't mind.  Dean liked the Grateful Dead reference in Stagg R. Leigh's name; Larry appreciated the novel's focus on racial identity and belonging; Paul and Glenn enjoyed the implicit taunt to like the story or be seen as racist; and Terry, always the outlier, suggested that the book had virtually nothing to do with race but was merely about selling a winning formula.  We gave the book an 8.2 for its "novel" approach (Stan's pun), and we excoriated Terry for his iconoclasm.

January 2025  Host - Paul

At 945 pages, and in clear violation of our 500-page limit, Lonesome Dove required an extra month of prep, which meant we met next in January.  The delay was worth it:  Paul treated us to a feast of Old West-inspired fare, with appetizers of crickets in molasses, a single roast dove (lonesome indeed!), and cowboy skillet bread.  The rest of the meal (vegetarian chili, pork adovada, brown and white rice, corn bread, and blueberry cobbler) was almost anti-climactic. Even with our stomachs full, we found much to dissect, share, and ultimately praise in McMurtry's magnum opus.  Despite its flaws and its age, Lonesome Dove's greatest virtue is its storytelling, with characters both convincing and compelling. And with few exceptions, it held us captive for almost 1,000 pages. For that, McMurtry's 1985 novel ascended to the top of our ratings with a 9.0.

March 2025  Host - Dan

After a string of novels, Dan brought us back to non-fiction with an account of the rise and fall of Venezuela under the Chavez/Maduro regime.  Fortunately, the food scarcity endemic in today's Venezuela had no effect on our meal, as Dan plied us with a delicious all-Venezuelan menu of stew, beans, rice, plus a tasty chocolate cake courtesy of Penny.

As to the book, our discussion languished at times. The problem with discussing non-fiction is that it's rarely interesting to recite facts to others who read the same facts. Facts need context, and Neumann provided some, but mostly he just expanded a series of articles (he was the NYT's bureau chief in Caracas) into a book.  Our takeaways included: yes, the erosion of democracy in Venezuela's early days of Chavismo feels eerily similar to what we see here today; Venezuela's long decline into authoritarianism can be attributed to a national fascination with strong leaders; and Venezuela's massive oil wealth proved to be its downfall. For a narrative both interesting, tedious, and depressing, we couldn't muster better than a 6.7 rating.

Terry Hosts the In Crowd With Aplomb!

Dinner and Acknowledgments

As we’re accustomed to from Terry, dinner last night was a fulsome affair, featuring tidbits from all strata of English society.  Greeted with a Pimms cocktail, we were then directed to appetizer plates of crustless cucumber sandwiches.  Both reflected the novel’s opening: an engagement party hosted by and for London’s elite. 

The meal that followed was good old-fashioned England:  roast sirloin, crispy roast potatoes with fried onions, mushy peas, and a green salad. Dessert was Terry's hat tip to the Metropolitan Police.  He made a lavender shortbread favored by DI Caius Beauchamp and his colleagues.  All in all, an excellent repast!

Our Discussion and Review of Vassell’s The In Crowd

The In Crowd earned the 2025 Edgar Award for Best Novel.  That was enough to make our reading list, but not enough to win even lukewarm applause from most of us.

Set in modern-day London, The In Crowd begins as a police procedural, but devolves into a sometimes clever and often tedious exploration of class manners, social climbing, diverse workplaces, and interracial romance (and breeding!). The plot consists of two different inquiries that predictably merge into one climactic outcome: who embezzled a pension fund 30 years ago and then, more recently, killed the one witness who might know the answer? And who killed or kidnapped a boarding school girl 20 years ago?

While Jack and I felt the story was—for its genre—reasonably well-told (Jack found it entertaining; I enjoyed the London references), others were less enthusiastic.  Glenn deemed it predictable, Stan found it banal, Tom thought it was merely OK, and Doug called it contrived.  Messaging us from Vienna, Larry asked the perfectly rational question: “Why again are we reading this book?”  Forced to defend his choice, Terry harkened back to his Pearson days, when he worked for an English lord and developed an affinity for English manners.

The award for Back-Handed Compliment of the Evening goes to Paul, who likened our novel to an episode of Charlie’s Angels, where the detective work was always secondary to the eye candy on screen.  But expecting Callie to stand in for Farrah Fawcett? That was a bridge too far, even for Paul.

Rating The In Crowd

Edgar Award notwithstanding, The In Crowd simply didn’t meet our lofty standards (irony intended). No surprise then that it notched a mere 5.4, placing it firmly in the bottom quintile of our books rated.

Next Up:  The Shipping News by Annie Proulx

Thanks to Stan, we read Proulx’s Close Range: Wyoming Stories years ago and were duly impressed.  So it’s about time we turned our attention to her critically acclaimed The Shipping News. Roy’s other choices (Lord Jim, Memoirs of Stockholm Sven, and The Sisters Brothers) didn’t make the cut, but Stan has promised to read Lord Jim and tell us what we missed. Right, Stan?

Two Novellas, Two Men: A Hardscrabble Dinner at Dean's

Books: Train Dreams by Denis Johnson & Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton

On Monday, the Man Book Club accepted Dean’s challenge to double up and read two novellas: Train Dreams and Ethan Frome. Both center on men living hard, isolated lives in rural America around the turn of the 20th century. Train Dreams traces the life of Robert Grainier in the wilds of northern Idaho, while Ethan Frome gradually reveals—through flashbacks—the bleak circumstances surrounding Ethan, his wife Zeena, and her cousin Mattie in rural Massachusetts. Although both books depict stark, unforgiving landscapes and lives, members’ reactions varied widely.

Highlights from the Discussion

• Dean (host): Reminded us that Wharton wrote from her early 1900s vantage point as a New York City aristocrat. He found Ethan overly melancholy and “whiney,” whereas Grainier in Train Dreams showed more resilience. Both books, he noted, were so vividly written they put you “right there.”
• Paul: Liked both books but especially Ethan Frome, which struck him as Shakespearean with its annoying yet tragic characters. He admired how both novellas managed to cover such broad spans of time.
• Tom: Appreciated Train Dreams for being short, well-written, and covering many years. He also liked Ethan Frome but found it cold, pathetic, and surprisingly loveless, though still well-crafted.
• Doug: Loved Johnson’s energetic writing in Train Dreams—especially how animals are almost human characters and how nature’s beauty shines through. Found Ethan Frome cold and its characters flat.
• Andrew: Focused on Train Dreams. Thought the third-person narration kept readers out of Grainier’s head but admired how 60 years of life fit into so few pages. Noted that both protagonists live at a subsistence level.
• Larry: Enjoyed Train Dreams’ historical sweep and was struck by Grainier’s lifelong guilt after joining an unjust mob attack. Disliked Ethan Frome—he never sympathized with Ethan and felt the climactic sledding accident was over-foreshadowed.
• Stan: Praised Ethan Frome as well written but found Train Dreams “absolutely incredible,” with much more substance.
• Jack: Came for Dean’s excellent dinner (meat pie and pickle dish from Ethan Frome). Listening to both books as audiobooks shaped his impressions: Ethan seemed “milquetoast,” while Grainier came across as tough and admirable.
• Roy: Valued Train Dreams for its vivid portrayal of nature and Grainier’s hermit-like life. Reflected on his own family’s recent past with horses and no electricity. In Ethan Frome, he focused on the simple domestic tasks and saw the ending as a pact among the three characters.
• Glen: Liked both books. Described Train Dreams as dreamlike, with Grainier’s visions of his dead wife and a wolf-girl he believes to be his daughter. Enjoyed Wharton’s descriptive writing and compared Grainier and Mattie’s sledding pact to Thelma & Louise.
• Terry: Called Train Dreams one of the most impressive books MBC has read, likening the perspective to looking down on Grainier’s life from above. Found Ethan Frome more “ground level,” even giving readers a peek into Ethan’s brain at the sled crash—yet still saw Ethan as a “lumox.”

The Vote

• Train Dreams: 8.2 average (scores 7–10)
• Ethan Frome: 6.9 average (scores 5–9)

MBC recommends reading the two together. At just over 100 pages each, they’re compact but powerful portraits of lonely men grappling with hardship. The group noted how much has changed since the early 1900s—and how much hasn’t, especially the sense of isolation felt by some young men today in the age of social media.

--Larry