Reading the crowd vs reading (alone)

Reading is, by design, an antisocial act. You and another human whispering in your head. And, then, we invented the book club and literary soiree that dragged this private communion into gatherings over hummus, opinions and tea. Then there are author readings. The writer, who spent 3 mths/yrs in another solitary act - writing - is thrust before an audience that claps politely while hearing aloud what they could have read silently. It's like watching a hermit explain why solitude is best - while surrounded by 200 strangers. But, maybe, this isn't so strange after all. Before the book was invented, stories and information dissemination were communal: Homer declaimed epics to crowds, pandits read out the Upanishads, griots sang histories. Reading alone is an historical anomaly. The book club is just society's attempt to restore the original group therapy session that was storytelling.

Still, the comedy remains. We solemnly debate whether Mr Darcy was misunderstood, as if Jane Austen were waiting in the kitchen to clarify. We nod gravely at metaphors, then argue over wine about whether Devdas Mukherjee was 'relatable' in Sarat Chatterjee's novel. In truth, the book club and lit fest are less about books than about clubs and fests. Reading is one thing, the ancillary activities - entertaining, illuminating as they may be - quite something else.