The Uncommon Reader

Every once in a while, to my great surprise, I'll find The Husband in bed with Magnus Mills or Nick Hornby. In California, I found him in the pool with Alan Bennett.

Wait, let me rephrase that.

The Husband is a reader of newspapers. He'll read The Guardian "cover to cover" online every day, and fit in The New York Times, Rolling Stone, Wired, and Newsweek as he's able to throughout the week. Books are less frequent in his rotation, but he's a discerning reader with good taste, and whenever he picks something up, I'm soon to follow his lead.

I had yet to read anything by Alan Bennett, and when The Husband - a longtime Bennett fan - finally put down The Uncommon Reader, he suggested I pick it up. What a lovely little read. Much like Stephen Frears' film, Bennett's book allows us to think of the queen as human, prone to both addiction and revelation. His portrayal of her newly voracious reading habit allows him to ponder what it is to be a reader, and how we actualize ourself - or don't - through books. I even found in Bennett's queen an ally:

It was Henry James she was reading one teatime when she said out loud "Oh do get on."

After nearly ten years of knowing The Husband, I'm more than a bit surprised that Alan Bennett hasn't long ago crept into my TBR pile. Time to dive into The Husband's stash.

I'm not the only one to take notice of the novella: the first chapter is excerpted at The New York Times, and Maud reviewed the book for the Los Angeles Times.

(The Husband's next suggestion: Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City, which I'm more than a bit disappointed I hadn't read before our San Francisco visit.)

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