The Charge of the Silent Book Club

Many thanks to Adam Vorobok, public librarian and co-host of SBC Cincinnati, for this post! 

When we started the Silent Book Club in Cincinnati, we thought it would be best to wearing matching cardigan sweaters so newcomers could help identify where the book club was. Which lead me to embarrassingly have to look up what a cardigan sweater was. But it also lead me to discover that it was named after James Brudenell, 7th Earl of Cardigan, who famously lead the charge of the Light Brigade made immemorial by the Alfred, Lord Tennyson poem. Naturally, I could not resist modifying the poem to being about Silent Book Club. Feel free to use this Charge of the Silent Book Club at your next meeting or re-write a famous poem to be about your Silent Book Club!

The Charge of the Silent Book Club

I.

Half a page, half a page
Half a page onward.
All in the pages of books
Read the six hundred.
“Forward, the Silent Book Club
Charge cover to cover,” he said
Into the pages of books
Read the six hundred. 

II.

“Forward, the Silent Book Club!”
Was there a person without a book?
Not though the librarian knew
To bring an extra Nook.
Theirs not to loudly gush,
Theirs not to abashedly blush,
Theirs but to read and shush.
Into the pages of books
Read the six hundred.

III.

Shelves to the right of them,
Shelves to the left of them,
Shelves in front of them
Waiting to be plundered.
So much to read, not enough time,
Boldly they stay up past bedtime,
Into the jaw-dropping twists,
Into the prose from hell,
Read the six hundred. 

IV.

Ruffling all the stiff pages,
Inhaling that new book smell,
Gripping the spine by its edges,
Reading silently, while
All the world wondered.
Plunged into the spiderweb plot,
Right through the secret affair;
Reader and author
Reeled from the last chapter
The villain’s days are numbered.
One book was done, but not
Not the six hundred.

V.

Shelves to the right of them,
Shelves to the left of them,
Shelves behind them,
Waiting to be plundered.
So much to read, not enough time
To not finish would be a crime.
They that had read so well,
Came through the jaw-dropping twists,
Back from the prose from hell,
Only one chapter was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

VI.

Where is the next pub?
No business they will snub!
All the world wondered.
Honor the library, that hub!
Honor the Silent Book Club,
Noble six hundred!

— Adam Vorobok