When I started thinking about retirement, I turned to books for an idea of what to expect. I picked up books by female nomads who left their comfortable homes to wander the world. I read books by women who were experts on everything—from thinning their thighs, to managing finances, getting along with in-laws, and cooking for one. Yes, I even read books about how 70 is the new 40—otherwise known as science fiction.
In between reading, I talked with my friends about what was coming up next but mostly they wanted to avoid looking ahead further than their next trip. Until I attended a lunch with a group of senior academics. When the subject turned to future plans, one serene sixty-something said she knew exactly what she would be doing. In fact, she had tried it out on a recent sabbatical and it was divine. She could hardly wait.
“I plan on reading a book a day,” the esteemed English teacher said confidently. She certainly had no interest in trying out the latest lunch spot or learning pickleball. Nor did she want to climb mountains in Tibet or master Mah Jong. All she wanted was to soak in a tub up to her ears in bubbles, and read whatever she wanted—every day for the rest of her life. I assumed she would come out to eat.
She did not care about anybody’s literary opinions nor did she care to kowtow to a group schedule. The idea of a book club was anathema to her. I understood. When I first moved to Los Angeles and I needed to make friends, back in the ’80s, female networking/book groups were all the rage, so I joined one. Between the kvelling about children, remodels and husbands plus the stress of preparing a knockout pot luck dish, I was too exhausted to keep it up each month. Later, I heard that the book club hired a referee—an English lit grad student whose job was to keep the discussions on track. But I had already bowed out, a loser at schmoozing.
In truth, I’ve never been a joiner. My lifelong reading habit is rooted in a desire to escape and imagine.
In truth, I’ve never been a joiner. My lifelong reading habit is rooted in a desire to escape and imagine. For this I vant to be alone. My addiction started in second grade, when my mother took me to the public library in New York to get a borrowing card. Soon enough I started methodically working my way through the shelves, gobbling everything I could read. By the time I was in junior high, all I wanted was to sit in my room and read. Long before ear buds and texting I had found the perfect way to shut out my chaotic household. I may have been the only kid in the Bronx whose parents begged her to put down the books and go make some noise. Needless to say, choosing a major in college was easy. Endless reading lists, and smart-sounding discussions about practically nothing? I was born an English major.
Getting back to my search for insights on aging, there are very few contemporary novels that take place in the transition to retirement that provide a pleasant escape. Even the smartest women get morose as they age. Tough feminists like Simone de Beauvoir and my favorite depressive Joan Didion tackle the subject with brutal honesty. One writer I found, Carolyn Heilbrun, whose “The Last Gift of Time: Life Beyond Sixty,” inspired me in my fifties, left me feeling duped ten years later when I learned that she had committed suicide in her seventies. So much for self-help!
I have found exactly one book that consistently lifts my spirits while making light of circling the void. Written by a real life “agony aunt,” a British advice columnist named Virginia Ironside, the book is a first person fictional account of a cranky, sarcastic London divorcée who unapologetically embraces the joys of retirement—no more chasing men, setting alarm clocks, or pressing her bunions into high heels.
“No! I Don’t Want to Join a Book Club!” is a quick, trashy read that doesn’t offer advice or sugar-coat aging. It has been sitting on my nightstand for the last ten years—ready whenever I need a quick chuckle before attempting to fall asleep.
Los Angeles food writer Helene Siegel is the author of 40 cookbooks, including the “Totally Cookbook” series and “Pure Chocolate.” She runs the Pastry Session blog.
