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Some years ago, I decided I needed to dedicate myself to reading one old "classic" novel I hadn't read, every year. So far, in 2007, I haven't kept my commitment. Tonight, I embark.
Previous reads have included Moby Dick, every damn whaley word of which I thoroughly hated, and Typee, another earlier Melville I liked so much that I read it's two sequels, the obscure Omoo and Mardi, which I appreciated, too. Then I read The Confidence-Man, which I found dreadful. I'm done with Melville.
I've had some other disappointments (everything I've tried by Dickens; done with him, too), but some pleasant surprises (Anthony Trollope; a random pick from his dozens of novels, The Claverings, which was delightful).
So, tonight I start Coningsby, one of several novels by the famous Victorian British Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli. I'll report on how it turns out.
caw
Previous reads have included Moby Dick, every damn whaley word of which I thoroughly hated, and Typee, another earlier Melville I liked so much that I read it's two sequels, the obscure Omoo and Mardi, which I appreciated, too. Then I read The Confidence-Man, which I found dreadful. I'm done with Melville.
I've had some other disappointments (everything I've tried by Dickens; done with him, too), but some pleasant surprises (Anthony Trollope; a random pick from his dozens of novels, The Claverings, which was delightful).
So, tonight I start Coningsby, one of several novels by the famous Victorian British Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli. I'll report on how it turns out.
caw