“I am become a reviewer,” Mary Wollstonecraft declares in 1789, the year before she launches herself into celebrity-dom with her essay, “A Vindication of the Rights of Men.” Yes, men. She vindicated men before she vindicated women. Today, as I wrote about how her confidence grew with every book review she wrote, I realized that yet again there is a strange confluence between my characters and my own life. I have a stack of books to review just like MW and lately I’ve realized that no book review is ever just a book review. Always, we are making some kind of generalized statement about art, our world, ourselves, or books in general, even if we don’t realize it.