Everyone knows there are many things that set Vinalhaven apart from the rest of the world. The thing that really distinguishes us, however, and pretty much everyone acknowledges this too, is our Gentlemen’s Book Group.
Begun about a decade ago by an enterprising lobsterman trying to rise above his station, the book group has grown steadily and now numbers 15 or 20 year-round men. The book group meets once a month and while it is serious about reading and discussing the chosen material—a book chosen without debate two months earlier by a rotating committee of two—the men who gather on the same day each month do not let the opportunity to eat and drink well and enjoy one another’s company escape them. The result is always gourmet fare and plenty of it.
The summer population of men, conscious of the menace posed by an indigenous population of growing sophistication—one that, at this rate, might achieve greater literary acumen than they enjoyed themselves—resolved to at least monitor the goings on. They skillfully navigated the muddy waters between Here and Away to wrangle invitations from sympathetic islanders and insinuated themselves into our July and August meetings.
Struggling mightily among the gluttony and boisterous camaraderie to wield their presumably broader literary footwork, they sought at first to steer the monthly gatherings away from the inherent danger of enlightenment the island men clearly sought and toward the earthly delights they assumed we’d find more appealing and which would keep our minds from wandering beyond our customary parameters.
As the years went by, however, and one after another of their suggested reading, i.e. My Life As An Escort and such or perhaps sneaking a peek at Fifty Shades of Grey were rejected in favor of The Complete Poems of Elizabeth Bishop or The Limits of Powerby Andrew Bacevich or Jeffrey Sachs’The Price of Civilization, it became more and more obvious that the doors to greater understanding had indeed thrown themselves open to these island men and the line between our summer guys and us became less and less distinct.
Some re-arranged their real life schedules that they might arrive in time for the June meeting or linger for the September meeting and in that way have a chance of staying on an equal footing with their caretakers, so as not to find themselves in a literary deficit when they returned for the summer.
Each meeting, however, falls on the first Wednesday of the month and that meant much more time, particularly in June, away from the careers and obligations that have kept most of them pegged as From Away in the first place.
Around the time of our 10th anniversary, a couple of decisions, taken in the spring well before their arrival, left them despairing of staying in the same league with us. The busy summer season had always made July and August meetings difficult and so, mindful of that difficulty and of our own startling progress, we decided to moderate the pace a little. We would henceforth forego our July and August meetings but, each June, assign a somewhat more challenging read to be discussed at our September meeting.
Many of our summer members seemed relieved at our decision, which excused them from having to keep pace with us. A few remained determined but succumbed when Alex McFadden, who pitches bait down at the Co-op and was half of the selection committee for the September book, said “Let’s read All That Is Solid Melts Into Air, Marshall Berman’s classic examination of the historic clash of cultures and of the prospects for a liberating social and philosophical idealism in the future.” His selection was enthusiastically endorsed and we moved on to the only other item on the agenda, i.e. what could be done to bring the Ladies Book Group up to a par with us so that, on those annual spring occasions when we graciously host them, we might all find interesting things to talk about.
Phil Crossman lives and reads on Vinalhaven where he and his wife operate the Tidewater Motel.