On Oprah and parting being all we need of hell

Oprah is the Jay-Z of book clubs. She can't leave books alone, but also, the game needs her. The first Oprah's Book Club "ending" was in 2002, after the Franzen kerfuffle (aw, remember?) After that, Winfrey publicly chose to focus on "classics" -- the second close, in 2010, with Charles Dickens, who would not have turned down an Oprah appearance had he been alive at the appropriate time. And now we're back in 2012, with Friday's announcement that the book club will return with Cheryl Strayed's memoir WILD. It's being pitched as "2.0," with Facebook and Twitter avenues through which Oprah fans can discuss the book, but there are many similarities: Strayed and Winfrey will now make webisodes, but their above-the-fold interview will air July 22 across every outlet Oprah has available, which is a lot.

The question is, why even go through the formality of ending the club in the first place? Even her critics can probably agree that Winfrey could do whatever the hell she wants at this point (except have the #1 cable network in the country, but that is outside scope for now). She could feature books whenever without any kind of commitment to her audience, and while some momentum would be lost, it wouldn't really be a big deal. Instead, her reading efforts follow the same two-steps-forward-one-step-back progression of her health initiatives, as if between the book clubs Winfrey doesn't read at all (highly unlikely in my view, but I have no insider info).

On the other hand, Winfrey sells a lot of books, and you have to be pretty short-sighted to see that as a bad thing. During the previous book-club "endings" there were varying amounts of hand-wringing over what her programming choices would "mean," a little unnecessary given the big implication. Her selection of WILD will undoubtedly take the already successful memoir to EAT, PRAY, LOVE levels, and the book, from what I know about it, echoes a lot of the themes of early book-club selections, only in nonfictional form. Female protagonist on an improbable journey? Check. Death, abuse and unluckiness clouding the way? Check. Uplifting spin on a life-changing moment? Check, I think (the many of you who have read it, feel free to weigh in).

By chance, I picked up my library-reserve copy of WILD on Friday, just hours before the news hit. I've been waiting since March to get it. I would have read it anyway, thanks to the somewhat unusual circumstances surrounding the author and her formerly anonymous advice column, the revelation of which happened appropriately close to the memoir's release. (I don't like Dear Sugar, the column on The Rumpus that Cheryl Strayed writes, but had heard hype about the memoir before Strayed was revealed as "Sugar" and think the whole thing was very well handled.) I'll probably read it differently knowing that thousands will be seeking it out just for the endorsement, but that's my burden, not hers. Over at Knopf they're opening the champagne, and it is good.