He was just called 'P'

Book discussions are usually well attended in the platteland, but when a little old “P” causes a case of mistaken identity, it’s a story worth telling, says Nadine Petrick.

- By Nadine Petrick.

I live in a town so small and insignificant that it doesn't even have a library or secondhand bookshop. Which is peculiar, considering that just about every well-known member of the Sestigers literary movement came here at some point in their lives to either live, write or swim.

Fortunately, our neighbouring town is quite a lot bigger and has an active reading community, something that brings great joy to this bibliophile. Several wonderful bookshops selling old and new books are tucked away there, and the owners are willing to extend their search to the furthest reaches of the country to help you track down a particular book you're looking for. The women who run the library also love their jobs: they will occasionally give you a book as a gift, and they host book discussions that are well supported by the community.

I AM ALWAYS KEEN to attend book discussions, sometimes as a moderator, sometimes as a guest. In the city, these events are usually quite civilised and sometimes include virtuous little snacks and smallish glasses of wine and water. But in a small town things work a little differently. Last year, I led a discussion with a well-known Afrikaans author in the neighbouring town's library. From the start of the proceedings, an English-speaking woman in the audience thought nothing of chiming in and sharing her opinions rather loudly. And not all of it was insightful commentary, I might add.

It's quite possible she'd imbibed too much of the free Merlot on offer.

Eventually, the author and I sat back and gave her the floor. "Bewildering", "amusing" and "joyful" were some of the words that came to mind over the course of that hour. Definitely not "boring"!