Judging a Book by Its Sender

What do "Tuesdays with Morrie" and "The Sea, The Sea" have in common? It turns out: not much. But my best friend and I had fun bitching about the gifts we sent each other in the mail.

Friends have recommended bad books for me to read. It happens to all of us. And when it happens there is a little part of us that never views that friend the same way.

As you make page-by-page progress you grow increasingly curious about why they suggested this particular book to you – you wonder, “Did they think this book was good? Did they think this book was my type of book?” Either question will land you in dangerous territory, re-evaluating your relationship with a new perspective and deciphering the original intention. And so it was when my friend Kristen, who I have been friends with since 1995, sent me Tuesdays with Morrie in the mail.

In order to fully appreciate her gesture, let me share a little bit about Kristen.

Kristen has a Bachelor's Degree in English, a Master's Degree in Education, a Certificate of Advanced Educational Specialization and a Masters in Literacy Education. She has worked in the fields of language, literacy and publishing. You can imagine her bookcases, crammed with broken spines and the most balanced mix of fiction and non-fiction of anyone I know. When I spend the night at her home, inevitably I pull a book from the shelf and stay up for hours reading it. The fact that she also does not own a television is probably relevant to her profile – reading and writing is what she does.

By the time Mitch Albom’s Tuesdays with Morrie celebrated its 10^th Anniversary of its publication in 2007, I was peripherally aware of its existence. I knew it had been a television movie. Any book that spends four years on the New York Times Bestseller List, celebrates its 10^th Anniversary with a new hardcover release yet cannot make it to the big screen (and settles for a made-for-tv movie on ABC) is probably not on my to-do list. I had passed by massive displays of its hardcover copies at Barnes & Noble so many times that I lost track. It became a fixture in store windows and once I registered its odd size – it could almost be a stocking stuffer – and its subtitle “an old man, a young man, and life’s greatest lesson,” I began to recognize it as a self-help book and took to disregarding its constant presence. But I was cognizant of its popularity.

And because it was popular, I was surprised to receive it in the mail from Kristen. Mainstream books were not her forte. The last time I saw her, she had been reading Albert Camus. Her favorite writer is William Faulkner. My immediate thought upon opening the package containing “Tuesdays with Morrie” was: “Oh shit! Is this actually a good book? An insightful and eye-opening piece of literature that has been misrepresented? Is it a victim of media coverage that has dumb-downed its message and candy-coated its intent?”

I was intrigued!

Over the next 48 hours, I devoured the book (I purposely choose the word devour here). What started off as meticulous reading ended up as rapid page flipping as I frantically searched for the reason Kristen sent it to me. I was convinced there was a deeper meaning and I was desperate to figure out what it was without having to call her and ask. We are introspective and poetic people. Our friendship layered with profound observations – or so I thought.

When I finished the book, I held it in my hands for several minutes and stared at the wall across the room.

“What made Kristen think that I was the right person to send this book to? My bright, educated friend – did she view me as a remedial reader?” I had an internal conversation with myself while processing the 207-page hardcover Hallmark Card which was sitting on my lap.

The sentimental stories, the trite lessons, the earnestness – it was all too sweet.

I called Kristen and left a voicemail. Eventually she called back and told me that she had never actually read the book. This boosted my confidence in our friendship since her reasoning had not been, “This is a great book! Erin will love it!” She had seen the play, enjoyed it and, so, she sent me the book.

I sent her an email asking her to shed more light on the topic. Indeed, there was more. And it has me again re-evaluating our friendship.

Kristen replied: “But for some reason, there is an association for me between you giving me The Sea, The Sea and me giving you Tuesdays with Morrie. Anyway, I don't know if I ever told you that I didn't get why you loved that book. Now I have no memory of the plot, but the feeling was that it was overly sentimental in a sort of icky mopey heavy sort of sticky way.”

The Sea, The Sea is written by Iris Murdoch, a British writer and philosopher. It won the Booker Prize in 1978. It is one of my top ten favorite books. Somehow Kristen can appreciate Camus, Faulkner and Mitch Albom yet call Iris Murdoch “overly sentimental in a sort of icky mopey heavy sort of sticky way.” Amazing!

A couple of weeks ago while walking down my block in Brooklyn, I passed a cardboard box with “F R E E!” written on one of the flaps. Inside there were several books. I shuffled my hands through it and fished out The Shack – with the subtitle “Where Tragedy Confronts Eternity.” In 2007, The Shack spent 70 weeks as #1 on the New York Times Bestseller List. Its author, William Young, says The Shack is a “metaphor for the places you get stuck, you get hurt, you get damaged...the thing where shame or hurt is centered.” Its popularity was similar to Tuesdays with Morrie. I was curious.

I read the first 20 pages.

I could not bear to turn to page 21.

I am sending The Shack to Kristen tomorrow.