EXCERPT: . . . I am just longing for my birthday. Fifty-eight and fifty-nine are stupid ages to be. I always felt, when I was fifty-nine, that people must think I was lying, like some pathetic old actress. Fifty-nine was nowhere, neither fish nor fowl. If anything, in fact, it seemed to declare me a truly ancient middle-aged person. Now, nearly sixty, I feel like a young and lissome old person. I feel like a new and shiny snake who has shed a middle-aged skin that was getting horribly worn, smelly and tatty.
At last, too, my past will be truly bigger than my future. And I like it like that.
People who love life to bits hate getting older. It means death is getting nearer. For people like me, for whom life has rather resembled one of those interminable performances at the National Theatre (those ones that last all day, to which you have to take sandwiches), getting older means that at last I'm entering the final act. It means I can see freedom at the end of the tunnel. Getting older means I get happier and happier. It means at last I can put aside those nagging, guilty anxieties about whether I should take up tap dancing (have I said this before? Am I repeating myself already?) or become an opera singer. Being sixty will mean I don't have to worry about doing anything any more. I will, officially, be retired. I will pick up a pension. I will be entitled to free prescriptions. I can spend my time, as George, the black guy across the road always answers, when I ask him what he's up to, 'Tekkin' it eezee, man.'
I can't wait for tomorrow.
ABOUT 'NO! I DON'T WANT TO JOIN A BOOK CLUB': A delightful novel about letting go of youth and embracing the sassy curmudgeon within.
Don't harass her about parasailing or taking Italian language courses.
Forget about suggesting she join a gym.
Marie Sharp may be a little creaky in the bones as she heads toward the big 6-0, but she's fine with it. She would rather do without all the moving-to-Florida-bicycling-across- Mongolia-for-the-hell-of-it hoopla that her friends insist upon. She's already led an exciting life: She came of age in the 1960s, after all.
Now, with both a new grandchild and a new man on the horizon, all she wants to do is make the most of what she considers the most interesting stage of her life.
In this wonderfully astute novel based on the author's own experiences, No! I Don't Want to Join a Book Club is the funny--and often poignant--fictionalized diary of an older woman . . . a decade or two past her prime and content to leave it all behind her. So don't tell her to take a gourmet cooking class, and whatever you do, don't you dare tell her to join a book club.
Fresh and truly unique, moving gracefully on in years has never been more hilarious than in this forthright grandma's take on the "third phase" of life.
MY THOUGHTS: A 'coming-of-age' book for the about to be or newly retired. WARNING: It takes life experience to properly appreciate this book.
Marie has an irreverent outlook on life. She is a woman who has made no great contribution to society. She has lived quite an ordinary life, as many of us do. She is over having to prove herself. She resents people who try to organise her time, thinking that she won't know what to do with herself once she retires - join a book club, go to Zumba, take up tramping, get a degree! But of course, they are wrong. Marie knows exactly what she is going to do with herself - whatever she damned well pleases and is comfortable with.
But, of course, life events have a way of taking over, and Marie finds herself juggling the excitement of becoming a grandmother with the sadness of losing a good friend.
We all think about death. As we get older, there is more of it about. I have never been to as many funerals in my whole life as I have just in the first part of this year (it's early August as I write this). With each one, I mourn the loss of a friend or family member, and sigh with relief that it is not me. I am not afraid of death, just not in any hurry to get there. And Marie is much the same.
As I read, I found I had a lot in common with Marie - I think it's an age thing, although I am a good ten years older than she is in this book. The anxieties, the random thoughts, the moments of forgetfulness that make us wonder if we are on the Alzheimer path. She makes fun of the emails that fill our inboxes and doesn't like or agree with all her friends all of the time. She doesn't answer the phone if she doesn't feel like it. She makes declarations, and changes her mind, which we are quite entitled to do. In other words, despite her protestations, she is open to change. And yes, I agree with Marie, this is the most interesting (and enjoyable) stage of my life!
BTW, I cackled out loud - yes, cackled! often as I read. My husband gave me some very strange looks, indeed. But don't expect to sit down and 'read' this book. It's not that kind of book. It's great for dipping in and out of at your leisure.
I would like to thank the author, Virginia Ironside, for making me aware of this lovely piece by Cicero, which I find comforting: The death of the old is like a fire sinking and going out of its own accord, without external impulsion. In the same way as apples, while green, can only be picked by force, but after ripening to maturity fall off by themselves, so death comes to the young with violence but to old people when the time is ripe. The thought of this ripeness so greatly attracts me that as I approach death I feel like a man nearing harbour after a long voyage: I seem to be catching sight of land.
⭐⭐⭐⭐.4
#No!IDontWanttoJoinaBookClub
MEET THE AUTHOR - VIRGINIA IRONSIDE has been a journalist ever since her first book came out in 1964, when she was 20. Since then, she has written over ten more books and, for the last thirty years, been an agony aunt for Woman, the Sunday Mirror and, now, the Independent. She has one son and lives in London.
Ironside is a Patron of the right to die organisation, My Death My Decision. My Death My Decision is a right to die campaign organisation that wants to see a more compassionate approach to dying in the UK, including giving people the legal right to a medically assisted death if that is their persistent wish.
I own my copy of No! I Don't Want to Join a Book Club by Virginia Ironside.