Last night I had the pleasure of watching “The Jane Austen Book Club,” based on the book by Karen Joy Fowler. I had not heard of the movie prior to renting it, but it sounded like something I might like. It was a simple movie, no twisting turning plots, based on a book written by Karen Joy Fowler. It revolved around a group of women and one man who start a book club. Jane Austen is the focus of their club and each month they read and discuss one of her works. As you move through the movie you see their lives parallel the characters in the books. Often you feel yourself pulled into their little group wishing you could join in. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie and it made me want to start a book club. I was reminded of how many classics were ruined for me in my youth by well meaning teachers. The books were broken down point by point with the canned interpretation of “what the author meant.” I’ve always wondered how some people come into the “know” of what authors or artists meant. I think a work or art or a book is meant to be appreciated and interpreted individually. As we read each of us takes in the words and process them from our own perspective. Isn’t this what makes all of it so special? If we all saw the same thing life would be pretty boring and what would we end up talking about. Art and literature is there to make us think, to fill us with inspiration and sometimes just reminds us to feel. What we take away from this can enrich our lives in so many ways. I’m not sure where I’m going with all of this but I felt compelled to post it. If you get a chance to watch the movie, please do.