My favorite show for the past ten years has been The Vicar of Dibley, a BBC show I've caught every now and again on PBS. The show had it's final airing last Christmas and I am really hoping that Santa is bringing me the complete boxed set this year. The show centers around a female vicar who has moved into a small village parish and the kooky characters who live there. Hilarious -- especially if you know their rural Minnesota counterparts.
So anyway in one of the last episodes the vicar tries to start a book club. The first book to be discussed is On Beauty by Zadie Smith. (On Beauty was on the short list for the Man Booker prize in 2005 but lost out to The Sea by John Banville. Apparently if we are going to win prestigious prizes for fiction, we need to start thinking of short titles.) No one at the Dibley book Club reads this book so they have to think of a book they have all read and end up debating whether or not Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh has made a conscious decision to remain depressed. So, funny. It would be an interesting discussion though . . .
I am now reading On Beauty and so far it's a very well written book. No deep sadness yet as is so often the case with award winning things of all kinds. More on my inability to deal with deep sadness later. . .