Waiting for revolution

The phrase “summer reading” is totally preposterous, outdated, and quite mildly offensive in its gentle condescension. I often wish the late journalist and author Christopher Hitchens was still alive today to put this more eloquently than I ever could because “summer reading” to me feels like an expression that might fit securely in his sights. Summer reading is a thing at once entirely obvious and essentially misunderstood. You think you know what it is, and you love it or hate it. In fact, this defines you in a way you probably like. So, let’s back up. What is summer reading? It started as a sales strategy and ended up a euphemism.