For years, I’ve quoted from Lord of the Flies without ever having read it. Last Sunday I finally finished this classic, in all its exquisitely nasty detail and immediately pondered a scenario where girls rather than boys were marooned on that island to fend for themselves. Well, forget hunting and pigs’ heads on spikes. The beast would just have to be mollified with coconuts and flowers. And everyone would be cleaner with braids. But if my memory of the mean girl Petri dish that was St. Gregory’s serves, there would still be a Piggy, and she’d end up dead anyway.