Fowler, Karen Joy. The Jane Austen book club, G.P.Putnam’s sons (Penguin), New York, 2004. Hardcover, 288 pages  

Rating: 7/10 

Karen Joy Fowler’s new book We are all completely beside ourselves is shortlisted for the Booker prize this month. (American authors were eligible for the first time this year). Before buying that book, I decided to test the author by reading one of her previous books my library could lend.

The first eighty pages of the book are an absolute delight to read. The quality then slumps a little, before picking up at the end again.

Three elements pertaining to the book are visible on the book cover itself. (a) Jane Austen (b) Book club and (c) a novel. Let me discuss them one after another.

My expertise of Jane Austen is limited to Pride and Prejudice and Emma which I read in my college days-about thirty years ago. I am not competent to comment on the Austen references or the parallels between this book and Austen’s books.

The book club description and atmosphere is very authentic. I am part of a book club for more than ten years, which makes me competent to review this aspect of the book.

“Besides, men don’t do book clubs,” Bernadette said. “They see reading as a solitary pleasure. When they read at all.” (Page 3)

Very true. The gender ratio in our book club is excessively skewed as well. Before discussing the book we usually discuss everything on earth, we gossip about absent members. We dine together post-discussion. Before the meeting we don’t want to prematurely discuss our views with another member. All this is captured well.

Karen Jay Fowler has some great lines, can’t resist quoting her. The beauty or wit of some of these quotes may be realized only in the flow of reading. 

Bryan went to college and worked summers as a lifeguard at the pool. He looked the way a lifeguard looks. (Page 17)

She had taken yoga for years and could put her feet into some astonishing places. (33)

Sexuality is rarely as simple as it is natural. (52)

If only she would stop speaking French. Or go to France where it would be less noticeable. (58)

Allegra (daughter) gave Sylvia (mother) the look Sylvia had been getting ever since Allegra turned ten. (162)

She hadn’t even tried to pretend this; it pretended itself. (170)

And she was not, had never been, the sort of stupid woman who suddenly liked a man simply because she didn’t like him. (174)

She’d been contemplating a birding expedition to Costa Rica. Pricey, but not if you calculated it bird by bird. (234) 

Other than the clever language, the first eighty pages stunned me by the width and depth of the author’s imagination. Almost every paragraph has new images, new feelings, new emotions, little stories. Those pages cover a wide range of subjects and smoothly and rapidly flow from one subject (or object) to another – an exercise in aesthetics for the writer and the reader.

As to whether this book can be called a novel, I would like to give the author the benefit of the doubt. The book is constructed with precise geometry. Six characters, six meeting, six Jane Austen books. Prima facie, there is no plot or a story with a beginning, middle and end. Flashbacks are common. A confusing omniscient narrator who calls herself “we” keeps appearing intermittently. There is a lengthy readers’ guide at the end of the book with description of each of Austen’s books, opinions on those books by Austen’s relatives and friends, even textbook-fashioned questions for discussion. No doubt the book is postmodern, and not a novel in the classical sense.

The clever language and an extraordinary display of imagination (first eighty pages) compensate for that shortcoming.

Verdict: Definitely a good read for those readers who can enjoy language aesthetics and for those who are part of book clubs. If short of time, read the first half and ignore the rest.