“I’m gonna read a book. From beginning to end…in that order.” — George Costanza
It’s high time, people. Time to dub this The Summer of Rachel. First, she formed a book club with the cutest nephews around. Nolan, Jude, and Tate have effectively stolen my heart with those shiny faces. (I love a missing tooth.) Their awesome picks would make even Aunt Sponge and Aunt Spiker proud! Second, she captured lightning in a bottle. I’ve been begging the Universe for time away where the only sounds I hear are crisp pages turning and sturdy aspens quaking. All I get are crickets. As summer comes to a close, I can’t help but wonder what else Rae’s got up her sleeve? I’m sending that woman a block of cheese!
Reading Miss Benson’s Beetle by Rachel Joyce this summer felt like my time for a minute—like tasting the fruits and letting the juices drip down my chin. Who can resist “a hilarious jaunt into the wilderness of women’s friendship and the triumph of outrageous dreams”? I could tell you how Margery Benson, a bit of a cipher in her own right and wrestling with despair, gets a wild and desperate hair to fulfill her decade-old self’s dream: discover the golden beetle of New Caledonia. In an effort to hire a French-speaking assistant, our dowdy Marge interviews a quirky but lovable floozy named Enid Pretty. Flamboyant Enid (who doesn’t speak a lick of French) also has pull with the universe. She sort of lands the job and the friendship of a lifetime.
Rachel Joyce, you are a genius. You made me laugh (out loud.) You made me cry. You made me care deeply about characters that sprung out of your fantastic head. Miss Benson’s Beetle was an intoxicating listen. (As always, Juliet Stevenson is brilliant.) I’ve recommended this book regularly throughout The Summer of Rachel—I’ve now lost count of how many readers returned to say thanks for sharing some serious portable magic.