The members of three book clubs reveal that they’re about much more than reading
Book clubs may have a rep for gossip and wine quaffing (let’s not pretend that doesn’t happen!) – but could they also be part of a wider cultural phenomenon: modern women’s reclamation of sacred sisterhood that transcends time, age, place and culture?
As with many great friendships, Cindy’s and mine began with the words, ‘Me too!’
As we stood aside at a mutual friend’s baby shower, sipping Chenin (me) and beer (Cindy), bonding over how neither of us had ever been struck by a desire to procreate, the conversation took an excursion into books we’d recently read.
‘I’ve always wanted to be part of a book club,’ said I.
‘Me too!’ said she. ‘Shall we start one?’ ‘Um… okay.’
And that was it.
Cindy credits me with being a founding member, but all I did was say yes. She did everything else. I guess she just needed that ‘yes’ to get cracking.
Our first awkward gathering was on 11 October 2013 at Cindy’s apartment in Tamboerskloof. We dubbed ourselves The Tamboerskloof Book Pub (there was wine aplenty, natch). We had no idea how to run a book club and I could tell a few of the other gals were unimpressed with our casual
approach. I’ve since learnt some book clubs are quite strict in their procedures. Vive la différence; that was not our style. We all brought books we recommended, put them into a book kitty and each month there would be a chaotic swapathon.
Eight years later, only three of the seven original members remain. A few came and went, but after the first three or so years we seemed to settle and no more joined or left. We hit on the magic formula quite by accident, and what we have now is far greater than the sum of its parts. It has been a more powerful force for good in my life than I ever could have imagined.
We abandoned any kind of official meeting roster. Now one member shouts, ‘Hey, when are we meeting?’ on our WhatsApp group, and everyone is in.
When I look back, I can’t quite comprehend how those simple words – ‘Me too’ – gave birth to a group of women that have become my rock, a reliable place of safety and support that I had no idea I was going to need. I had no idea, as members came and went in the first few years, that the final selection that just stuck would be women who would each reveal strength, beauty, wisdom, courage, compassion and a sense of humour over the coming years.
When my marriage ended, they were there to tell me how courageous I was.
When I began to play the field with somewhat questionable taste in men, they never judged me.
When I moved across town three times in one year, the constancy of our gatherings kept me grounded.
When lockdown hit, we took our meetings to Zoom and they became a lifeline of connection for all of us.
When I quit my job without a plan, they convinced me I would bounce back better than ever.
When I was blindsided by a deep dark bout of depression, I received calls to check in on me at random times, messages of encouragement, voice notes… and a complete refusal to allow me to self-isolate.
We’ve all taken turns to fall apart, and it now seems somewhat farcical to call what we are a book club. We are more than that; we are a sacred circle of women.
A sense of trust
‘From the beginning it was clear something special was happening,’ says Amy, who’s been with the club for six years. ‘It all started with books and that’s how we got to know each other. Now we usually take turns to go around and give an update on where we are at. We go deep right away and allow one another to unpack whatever we’re going through. We celebrate one another and hold space for any pain or venting. It has become deeply personal.’
It isn’t all communing over life’s difficulties, though. There are bouts of uncontrollable laughter and dancing around coffee tables with underwear on our heads (don’t ask).
I’ve come to believe that strong sacred circles of women across all cultures, races and socio-economic strata are a medicine our society needs. When women spend time together, our nervous systems tune into one another, and with consistent, repeated gatherings, where each time we reveal a little more vulnerability and authenticity, and trust that it is safe to do so, we take this sense of trust and safety out into the world with us, and by extension, gift it to everyone we encounter.
Hence: sacred circles of women are medicine. Plus, we get to read some fantastic books along the way!
❛I went through a painful and traumatic break-up from a long-term relationship that took quite some time to heal… Thanks to these women, the process was so much gentler and ultimately empowering.❜–
SAMANTHA