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Why aren't there as many book clubs for men as for women?

1. Men don't read as much.

2. They do, but they don't care to talk about books.

3. Their wives don't believe they're really going to a book club meeting.

Librarian Steve Sumerford has addressed the question in his Decimal Points column on our Books page. Sunday he reported hearing from retired textile executive Watts Carr about Carr's book club of 10 men who cover "most anything and everything from historical novels and biographies to detective who-done-its, mysteries and international intrigue."

Meetings begin with conversations about "all things male before getting down to the book at hand."

I've never attended one of those meetings, but I'd guess the discussion of the book at hand also reveals attitudes of "all things male."

Men and women are different, and that's often reflected in what they read and how they talk about books.

My wife, for example, is an avid reader. She likes murder mysteries but also enjoys good novels like Pat Conroy's "South of Broad," which she's encouraging me to read.

The trouble is, I read very little fiction. I prefer biographies and books on history, travel and certain arcane topics such as polar exploration, which she derisively dismisses as "ice books." Our reading interests don't intersect much.

Of course, that won't be true for all married couples or all men and women in general. There are women who write ice books, and good ones. Some men are big fans of Agatha Christie.

Still, there are enough gender variations in literary tastes to create a need for a few book clubs for men only.

I belonged to one many years ago. It was begun by the late Stanley Shavitz, who loved books and libraries.

"So many books," he said in wonder once when we ran into each other at the High Point library. "I only regret I'll never have time to read them all."

Stanley assembled a number of his friends and acquaintances -- all men -- for a monthly gathering to talk about books. Others started tagging along, and before long each meeting drew a good turnout of fellows who represented various backgrounds and professions.

There were only a couple of rules. You could discuss any book you liked -- there was no assigned reading -- and women were not invited.

Not that women would care, anyway. We didn't serve refreshments, plan social engagements or gossip (much), and some of the books discussed were anything but popular literature.

One fellow had a passion for travel diaries from the Middle Ages. And you know about the ice books.

Whatever our individual reading pleasures, we developed an easy rapport. There was no locker room talk, no off-color jokes, no griping about wives. Just a group of guys who felt comfortable gabbing about books in an atmosphere that might not have been quite the same in mixed company.

We did have one concern.

We met in the administrative board room of the High Point library.

The public library.

Which we understood very well to mean that we had no right to exclude a woman from attending.

"If a woman comes, I'm out of here," one man said, hitting on the best response any of us could think of.

Eventually, it happened. Word had gotten around and finally landed in the wrong pair of ears.

I'll call her Agnes. She was a nice elderly lady but a gadabout with a reputation for showing up at wedding receptions and other events where her presence was not necessarily requested.

Which was the case at the fateful meeting of the men's book club. Agnes made herself perfectly at home despite the looks of consternation on the faces around the table.

There was none of the usual banter or camaraderie. Nothing impolite was said, to be sure, but the meeting was awkward and shorter than usual. Agnes seemed to understand she didn't quite fit in, and she never returned.

The club soon found itself in decline anyway. It had a good run for several years, but interest was beginning to wane. Maybe everyone knew each other's reading habits too well. Talking about books should be a process of new discoveries, not reciting familiar refrains.

Ironically, women's voices would have helped that problem, but then we still would have lost our men's book club.

No matter. When it comes to reading, everyone can be a book club unto himself.

Contact Doug Clark at dgclark@news-record.com or 373-7039.