go ahead and shoot me, oprah

a family ritual has begun in this osenga clan. tuesday evenings we go to the library (followed by target and chick-fil-a, but those have nothing to do with this particular rant). we employ the ever-so-handy online book request, so that when we arrive at the edmonson pike branch, whatever book we want to read is there waiting. i'll admit that i quickly go through books, so i'm always on the lookout for a good suggestion. i look on the library suggestion page, i ask friends, i read reviews, i often read what my mom's book club is reading, and (this leads me to my point) i reference oprah's book club list.

i'll start by giving oprah some credit. she has picked some classics - i believe it would do every well-rounded adult some good to read "east of eden" by steinbeck. why? because steinbeck is genius. he has a dark side, yes, but the way he describes people and settings and develops storylines is so rare and wonderful it's worth a read. "Anna Karenina" - another classic. One of my favorite books ever. "The Poisonwood Bible" - written more recently than the other two, and definitely excellent. There are a couple others on the list that I enjoy and would recommend to people. Others I would recommend only if someone were looking for a reason to sink into depression and end everything immediately.

all of these books share one common theme - messed up people. now, i realize that we All are messed up people. that is the beauty and glory of having a savior. also, knowing that we are all messed up is essential to true relationship and community. the aforementioned titles have messed up people in them. messed up lives. i am not trying to live in any sort of bubble. but i have recently read a book that was an "international #1 bestseller" and i would tell not a one person to read it. why? because it is so Pointlessly messed up that i just kind of felt sick the whole time.

and i think that's my main beef with some of these books. that the depressing situations really seem pointless. maybe it's because it's an obvious fabrication. give me a memoir or documentary or a person who is sharing their story and i'll enter willingly into the pain. but i no longer want to enter into a crazy world where the oldest daughter runs away to new york city, becomes a lesbian, than her father comes to "rescue" her, ends up raping her, she become pregnant with twins, only to die in childbirth, then her younger sister takes the twins down to the river to baptize them, and one slips through her hands and dies, then two days later the mom/grandma dies by sticking her head in an oven, then the remaining girls grow up and their lives are equally distressing. that's the last book i read.

we're heading to the library tonight and, ironically, i'm getting another book "by oprah", as andy says. but this one has been recommended independently of her, so i'll give it a whirl. but if i want to slit my wrists within the first 10 minutes, i'm quitting. i've requested some non-oprah books, too, so hopefully i won't be going into ella's room in the middle of the night to hold her and tremble in fear that she'll grow up to be an insane person.