I always find that each time I read a book, I discover new things; new layers, new angles, new stories, new things to love, new things to hate.
At book group tonight we gather upstairs at Fuel in Withington (our new improved home!) to discuss Jeanette Winterson’s Oranges are Not the Only Fruit
I think this is the third time I’ve read this book and this time I found I could see beyond the abuses of the church community to see the love and belonging that is also there. I’m also more frustrated than ever at the jump to the final chapter. I want to know how the heroine moved from a place of being disowned and leaving to a restored (albeit strained and uneasy) relationship.
Others in the group clearly have different relationships with this book. One guy struggles with its meandering style and lack of firm direction and control. One woman can see it’s shortcomings, but holds it ever dear as being the source of her realisation of her own sexuality.
As ever one brings so much of one’s own situation and story to any novel.
Monday, September 27, 2004
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