Why everyone needs a good book club

Poet and artist Frieda Hughes meets an eclectic bunch at her weekly literary gathering, where she bonds with cellists and businesswomen over their shared love of reading...

‘Beethoven and Brahms were tailed by Tchaikovsky, the rapid arms of the violinists and cellists in unison recalled each composer’s urgency’ (Getty Images)

BOOK CLUB

We are eclectic: copywriter, businesswoman, weaver and stitcher,

Painter and writer, musician and sculptress, horse-riding charity promoter,

And teacher of nature. We are German, Finnish, Kenyan-Welsh, English,

And Anglo-American. Seven of us, who read to discuss Crawdads and aviation,

Coastal journeys for the disenfranchised and the giant rabbit of the multi-age

Many-purpose Finnish playground, found a date for dinner and an evening

With the Shrewsbury Symphony Orchestra in which one of us played a cello.

Beethoven and Brahms were tailed by Tchaikovsky, the rapid arms

Of the violinists and cellists in unison recalled each composer’s urgency,

Slicing notes into the air from the vibration of strings beneath fingers.

The soaring pleas and gallantries scoured the vaulted ceiling in search of escape

Into the settling frosts of the closed evening that crisped windshields

And the last leaves. Forty-eight hours later, via bookshop mince pies and an author

Who knows the man who keeps wolves, I was drinking to a member’s success

On the small business front at their Christmas party, while another

Prepared hand-made bags for display the following day to carry off dreams

And important things from a Christmas market, where the cold of the cattle stalls

Permeated the soles of my shoes, until speech stumbled over the numbness of lips.

Back at home with the huskies I de-iced with hot tea, and began our next book;

Lessons in Chemistry.