I don’t think so.
Hardly a week goes by without some magazine article, or blog post, or online article about how people don’t read books anymore – how Nooks and Kindles and iPads and the texting twitterverse are making books obsolete. Some greener-than-thou folks even claim that paperless books are the environmentally responsible thing to do.
I’m not buying it. Also not buying a Nook, Kindle or whatever stocking-stuffer gadget comes next to “replace” books.
For me, nothing replaces books. Books are my Tahiti, my Paris, my refuge from “reality” shows and the continual onslaught of all too real tragedy in the world around us.
I realize that reading books alone can’t solve the world’s problems. And, indeed, some books, notably religious texts, seem to stir up as much strife as they inspire goodwill in humankind.
But books are the gateway to understanding. And without a lot more of that, this little planet of ours may go the way of Pluto. Only with more explosions.
So, I’m a book fan. Some might say a book snob. But I’m really not. Taste in books is like taste in food. You can’t argue a person into liking anchovies.
In literary terms, I’m something of an omnivore. While there are a handful of authors to whom I return again and again, there’s always a thrill when you discover an author you missed.
Allegra Goodman has been writing acclaimed novels for a while. She’s won prizes and awards, and her books are simply amazing. I just finished reading The Cookbook Collector and Intuition. Back-to-back. I couldn’t stop. And there’s more. I can hardly wait to dig in to the rest of her stuff. Her writing is deft and thoughtful, her characters utterly convincing, her plotting and scenes brilliant and compelling.
In blurbs about The Cookbook Collector one reviewer described her as “our own Jane Austen,” a phrase which has been bandied about for years, applied to scores of pleasant forgettable romances. I yield to no one in my admiration for Jane Austen, but Allegra Goodman is something else entirely. Her work weaves threads of modern culture with acute observations of human frailty caught in the undertow of mortality. Like Jane Austen? Yes, and no. Goodman’s women characters, for one thing, are modern in every sense, keenly aware of their choices, and alive to the truth that there is a cost for every choice.
So. There you have it. The special on today’s menu. It may not be to your taste. But if food for thought is your dish, may I suggest the work of Allegra Goodman?