March: Piranesi, by Susanna Clarke
We met at K's because the rain was sideways and her flat is closer to the bus. She had made shortbread, which we agreed ahead of time was bribery and accepted anyway.
R thought the slow opening was the point: the book asked you to learn its rhythms before it would do anything for you. M found the same opening glacial and said so. We compromised on "rewards patience but does not insist on it".
The strongest disagreement was about the ending — whether the reveal of the world outside the House diminished what came before, or whether it gave it a moral weight that the book needed. K argued for the latter; M for the former; R was somewhere in between, possibly because of the shortbread.
Quotation that survived the afternoon:
The Beauty of the House is immeasurable; its Kindness infinite.
Next month: Bewilderment, R's pick. We have agreed in advance that nobody will arrive having only read the first chapter.