The Best Books Club

“The Boys in the Boat” (2014) doesn’t check many boxes on my “things I look for in a book” list, but several friends recommended I read Daniel James Brown’s New York Times bestseller, so I decided to give it a try.

“The Boys in the Boat” is now one of my top five favorite books of all time.

At the heart of the story is Joe Rantz, a young man with whom I initially thought I had absolutely nothing in common. Other than at Girl Scout camp, I’ve never rowed a boat. My family of four — Dad, Mom, my sister and I — were the type that sat down together for dinner almost every night of the week. In contrast, Joe was a university and Olympic rower. His mother died when he was 4 years old; at age 10, he was banished by his stepmother from the family home to live alone in the schoolhouse and earn his keep by chopping wood; he was later allowed to move back home, but when he was 15 and in the midst of the Great Depression, his father, stepmother and half-siblings moved away, leaving him to live in a partially-finished rural house and somehow keep himself alive.

But as I got to know him throughout the course of the book, I realized there was a core part of Joe I can identify with. As a child and throughout my teens, I also lacked self-confidence and felt like the odd-man-out in most settings. And like Joe, I eventually discovered even those around me who seemed very confident of their own abilities and place in the world around them at least occasionally battled feelings of unworthiness and not belonging.

Because of that, not only can we all sympathize with Joe Rantz, we hurt for him when his teammates make fun of his ratty old sweater and love for country music. And we feel immense pride in him as he overcomes one obstacle after another, falls in love with a woman who cherishes him in return, proves himself in the Husky Clipper, and ultimately triumphs over the ideals of Hitler and the Nazi Party on the world stage.

Some readers may feel the storyline gets bogged down in the descriptions of boat-building and the effects of the weather on rowing. But those details, along with the subplots of Nazi activities leading up to the 1936 Olympics and the rivalry between college rowing teams and their coaches, all weave together to create the tapestry of a story that humbles and inspires the reader.

Even those who thought their days of competitive athleticism were behind them may, like me, find themselves Googling “Missouri Senior Games” at moseniorgames.org or joining a local pickleball team at semissourian.com/story/2954009.html. Those who embrace other activities may feel the urge to join the local community theater group called the River City Players, or take a workshop at The Arts Council of Southeast Missouri.

Wherever our interests lie and whatever our skill level, the story of Joe Rantz and his eight crewmates has the power to cause us to dream again, to step beyond our comfort zone and to live life to its fullest.

Want to join in the conversation?

Join us in our Facebook Live discussion of “The Boys in the Boat” on The Best Years Facebook page, in The Best Books Club Facebook group at 10:30 a.m. Aug. 24, or join us in-person at The Best Years Active Living Expo, in the workshop area at Century Casino Cape Girardeau. Here are a few points we’ll discuss:

What are the differences, if any, as to how the Olympics were regarded in the 1930s to how they are regarded now?

What are your thoughts on Avery Brundage and his role on the Olympic Committee?

Bobby Moch was Jewish. Knowing what he knew about Germany, are you surprised he went? Would you have gone? Why did his father not tell him sooner?

Which relationship do you believe was ultimately the most pivotal for Joe?

What do you think was the turning point for Joe to become a unit with the rest of the boys in the boat?

Coming Up

Our September selection is a book that, for want of better word, haunted me long after I finished it. I’ve recommended it to many people of different ages, backgrounds and reading interests; over and again, they share that after reading it, they felt the same way and are now recommending it to other people.

“We Begin at the End” by Chris Whitaker is hard to describe; it must be read to be understood. I will warn you, the language is more adult in nature than previous selections — it entails cursing, including the “f” word. But this compelling book will cause you to ponder concepts like family; personal choices and destiny; and the concepts of fairness, morality, freedom and what makes a good person good.