The Fair Intellectual Club

I’ll admit: I side-eyed the concept at first. *Teen girls in the Enlightenment?* But within five minutes, the full-cast narration sold me. Hardwick’s timing as the cynical, quick-witted leader is *chef’s kiss*—she makes even the most absurd lines (like comparing a suitor to ‘a poorly stuffed haggis’) land with perfect disdain. MacLaren’s performance as the romantic idealist could veer into cliché, but her chemistry with the cast keeps it grounded. The real standout? The production’s use of ambient sound—ink quills scratching, teacups clinking—to immerse you in their clandestine meetings. It’s a small touch, but it makes the girls’ world feel tactile. That said, the pacing stumbles slightly in the second act. A subplot about a stolen manuscript drags when the real joy is the girls’ verbal sparring, and one character’s sudden heel-turn feels rushed. But the finale—where the club’s existence is threatened—delivers both laughs and a surprisingly poignant moment about female erasure in history. Porter’s script walks a tightrope between satire and sincerity, and while not every joke sticks the landing, the ones that do (a debate on whether men are ‘decorative, like poorly upholstered furniture’) are worth the price of admission. If you’ve ever rolled your eyes at a mansplainer or dreamed of outsmarting the patriarchy with nothing but a quill and a withering glance, this is your audiobook.