Pride and prejudice? It was 'trashy'

Reading for a book club

They are all women and they meet in restaurants dotted round London. Their purpose? To discuss books. It was Claire's idea. She formed the group partly to read novels and partly to keep in touch with old friends from school, university and work. Her first recruit was her mum, Lesley, a magistrate and grants officer with a charity. Claire, a freelance journalist, is quietly formidable. "She told me I had to join," says Mairead, who finds modern fiction a refreshing change from her job as a legal editor.

"Why are there no men?" "Because they don't read books" and, anyway, "they talk too much". It wouldn't be possible, said Mairead, "to get a word in edgeways". Julia, an accountant with The Carphone Warehouse, gives another reason. Disagreement might become "personal" if partners were there. Do they then approve of courses devoted to women's writing? Eyes widen. "Why?" I trot out the orthodoxy about patriarchy but stumble under their steely stares. "Bullshit!" shouts Mairead. "Patronising," mutters Julia. It's feminism. But not as we knew it.

Wine is drunk. The food arrives - though not Jen's. "They're still catching it," she jokes. "Do start." Jen is a teacher. Now and then, bad things happen in her school. A boy opens another boy's face with a screwdriver.

Like Lesley, she sees life in the raw. Who knows, one day they may write a novel. For now, reading "gives pleasure", "teaches you about other cultures" and "makes you think".

Everyone gets the chance to choose a book, and so far the group has read six. The one that provoked the most discussion was Lolita . Do 13-year-old girls use their sexuality? All agreed that David Mitchell's Cloud Atlas was the hardest read to date. It appears on Richard and Judy's "Best Read" list. "I can't believe they actually read that book," declares Vivien, who adds the word "merchandiser" to my vocabulary. It is a term for a numerical buyer, which she also has to explain. She is very patient. "They didn't," says someone else. "There's a woman who does." Or words to that effect.

At the moment the group are reading Suite Française by Irène Némirovsky, which deals with the German occupation of France. It's being serialised on Radio 4's Woman's Hour . "She doesn't make the Germans monsters." "I was put off by the cheesy cover." "She writes in a detached style." "That's because she used to be a journalist. It says so in the appendices." "They should come at the beginning. The novel would make a lot more sense then." "Yes but some people might be put off by that." "I found the two parts didn't go together." "She never finished writing it." "I didn't like the bit where they gouged out the priest's eye."

Jen's tuna finally appears and more wine is drunk. Sometimes everyone speaks, sometimes there is intense discussion between two or three. Would we think only about saving ourselves in similar circumstances? "I'd happily leave my father-in-law behind," muttered one. Anyone having desert? No.

What about 19th-century novels? Julia and Vivien discover a shared love of George Eliot. Claire makes everyone gasp by saying she thinks Pride and Prejudice is a "trashy" novel. "Oh no, you're going to put that, aren't you?" Of course. It is the best line of the night.

Gary Day is principal lecturer in English at De Montfort University.