The academic life, from the outside, appears to be a dull progression of years stacked up in the attempt to teach the same formulas and facts to succeeding generations of resolutely ignorant youths, with nights spent in a moth-eaten cardigan grading papers and sipping at a potion of rubbing alcohol and laudanum. What the hell can a middle-aged pedagogue and his mate possibly do to spice up their humdrum existence? The answer provided by Book of Love (2004) is alarming and emotionally challenging. After a long day of cracking open scholarly tomes, a history teacher at an all-girls school helps pick up a fifteen-year-old boy to crack open his wife. Their entire existence splits wide, their circle of friends swirls, and the commonly accepted lesson plan is discarded for an unforeseen course of study.