I’ve never had a book club of my own but when I was in high school and college I attended my mother’s book club. It was so different from my classes. The ladies sat around, drank wine and mostly discussed how the topics in the book related to their lives. Once my mother asked me to come to her book club to talk about E.M. Forester’s A Passage to India, on which I’d delivered a graduate conference paper. As soon as I started talking about how the book illuminates the difficult role of the subaltern in British-colonized India, I knew I’d lost my crowd. Pass me the Shiraz, will you Angie? This girl is droning on.