Jay Gatsby and J. Alfred Prufrock are two modern literary protagonists who’d probably never be caught dead in the same room together. Although both turn-of-the-century men are in love with utterly unattainable women, their attitudes toward life, the universe, and everything couldn’t be more opposite. Gatsby amasses a fortune, buys a mansion, throws lavish parties, and completely reinvents himself, taking the flamboyant peacock approach to wooing his ladyfriend. Prufrock, on the other hand, reluctantly initiates a meeting, hesitates, broods, retreats, and ultimately resigns himself to a life of isolation, taking more of a unabomber approach to courtship. Yes, ladies – sometimes these are your choices.

Although Jay and J. Alfred seem to live worlds apart, chronologically speaking, they are only separated by about a decade. In fact, both characters are pioneers of a cultural period that was shortsightedly dubbed “modernism” on the off chance that nothing would ever change again. With booming cities, huge crowds, division of labor, and division of wealth suddenly becoming commonplace, people experienced an unprecedented sense of isolation, disjointedness, and anonymity in the new cultural landscape. On some level, Gatsby’s and Prufrock’s troubled romances represent a larger struggle to find their place in early twentieth-century city life, which is strongly reflected in the way they’re each narrated.

They’re the members who talk too much - interrupting some, taking forever to get to the point, loving the sound of their own voice. They dominate the discussions. And sometimes (gasp!) they’re the ones who keep up the social chat while you’re trying to hold a serious book discussion.
Or maybe they’re negative - the ones who rarely like a book and don’t hesitate to let everyone know.  Or they find it impossible to express a disagreement without levying an insult.
These are known as the Difficult Members - and many clubs have one. At first everyone takes the problem with a grain of salt - maybe just a wry smile and roll of the eyes. But over time things can become … well, more difficult, tiresome, irritating. At some point, members start to drop out, not wanting to come to meetings, simply to avoid one person. That’s the tipping point - when one member becomes a threat to the wellbeing of the entire club.
The Difficult Member is like the elephant in the room: no one really wants to admit the full extent of the problem - because then you have to solve it. But when members begin to leave, clearly something has to be done.