Jonesing for a Discussion

Among the things I'm grateful for, having a large number of readers in my life is near the top of the list. Even anticipating a discussion about a worthwhile book with any of these folks infuses me with energy. 

That delicious anticipation enhanced my recent re-read of The Interpreter of Maladies (1999), an extraordinary collection of short stories by Jhumpa Lahiri. My rationale for re-reading? Easy; a good friend - one of those readers I mentioned - had borrowed our copy. Soon after checking in to see how she was doing, I suggested we discuss whatever she'd finished up that point. (I'd already borrowed a library copy.)

But soon after reading the final heartbreaking sentence of the masterful opening story ("They wept together for the things they now knew" from A Temporary Matter), taking one story at a time became an untenable strategy for me. Lahiri's unshowy prose and piercing observations - particularly about assimilation - hurtled me through the second story (When Mr. Pirzada Came to Dine), an equal in every way to the opener. After then completing the title story, there was no turning back. Guitar, exercise, even eating moved back in the queue. The title story is so exceptional that I recalled many of its telling details from my first time through the book. But re-reading it revealed additional layers that had escaped me back in 1999. Such is the skill of this gifted author.

As assured as the next five stories are, the closer (The Third and Final Continent), elevated this reading experience from exceptional to transformative. After finishing that treasure, my jones for the discussion with my friend took on an almost frenzied aspect. I started planning which story we'd discuss first. One of my favorites or hers? I scoured my notes for some of the subtle details Lahiri sprinkles throughout each story like delicious treats and began wondering which of them my friend noticed. And which details did she pick up on that I missed? Which words, phrases, passages of dialogue, sentences, paragraphs that won't leave me alone are haunting her? Until we have our discussion, what do I do with all this energy? Can we start over again right after we finish?