Fra Keeler

This is an unusual choice for a blog post subject, for a blog that purports to about me reading the books on my bookshelf. The book is “Fra Keeler” by Azareen Van der Vliet Oloomi.  I haven’t read it, and it’s not on my bookshelf.

I own it, and I fully intend to read it, but I haven’t yet. I bought it very recently, after discovering a small St. Louis-based press called Dorothy that specializes in feminist literature. As a St. Louis-based feminist, I really couldn’t complete the transaction fast enough.

I bought six books, none of which I’d ever heard of. Five of them have made it to my bookshelf. This one “Fra Keeler” is occupying a place of honor on my coffee table, a spot usually reserved for literal coffee table books and books by literal members of my immediate family.

Why such special treatment, such ratified air? Dorothy’s website says:

In Azareen Van der Vliet Oloomi’s debut novel Fra Keeler, a man purchases a house, the house of Fra Keeler, moves in, and begins investigating the circumstances of the latter’s death. Yet the investigation quickly turns inward, and the reality it seeks to unravel seems only to grow more strange, as the narrator pursues not leads but lines of thought, most often to hideous conclusions.

… which was enough to make me add it to my cart, but not enough to bounce it all the way to the top of a mind-bogglingly long “to read” list.

Friends, please help me out. I’m begging someone with expertise, or at least an air of authority, to step in and take charge here. My bookshelf is alphabetized by author’s last name. Where does this go ? I’m at a loss.

I’m not going to pretend I’ve some super strict organizational system. It’s idiosyncratic at best. If a librarian took a good look at my bookshelf, they’d definitely judge me. The most egregious offender is the set of books from the Indiana Jones series. If you look at the surrounding books, you’ll notice that they’re stacked under “Jones”, as in “Indiana Jones.” I am aware that’s wrong.

By the way, if you didn’t know that there is an Indiana Jones series of novels, I can’t really blame you, although I do think you’re missing out. They’re fantastically fun, or at least they were when I was in middle school. I’ll reread a couple of them soon and report back.

But back to the matter at hand. Unless a more elegant solution presents itself, I’ll probably continue to sidestep the issue and let “Fra Keeler” make a permanent home on my coffee table. And, at some point, I’ll read it and report back.