Reading The Lonely Hearts Book Club made me feel like I might be Sloane; my cold, black heart melted with each new section. Every time a new character became the POV, I was sure they couldn’t be better than the last, but the stories built on top of each other to create a truly wonderful book.
There is something so unassuming about this narrative that completely draws you in. This group of strangers and the book club come together so slowly, without any big or bold movements, that by the time you realise how close they’ve become, you already want them to stay together forever. I could not possibly rank one character over another and came to appreciate each perspective despite not wanting to leave the last one behind.
I may be totally biased thanks to my longstanding love of Anne of Green Gables and how much focus it pulled in The Lonely Hearts Book Club. From the moment Sloane found the brooch, I knew it would come back in a big way, and I couldn’t wait. As a Canadian, it might just be something in my blood, but I will continue to reread the Anne of Green Gables series, probably annually, for the rest of my life.
Sentimental without being sappy, The Lonely Hearts Book Club will crack your heart wide open to make space for this entire cast of quirky, possibly unstable characters. Now excuse me while I dream about becoming a librarian with access to Arthur’s collection.