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sophia_sol) wrote2021-08-04 06:34 pm
sophia_sol) wrote2021-08-04 06:34 pm
Middlemarch, by George Eliot
Recently I attempted to read Middlemarch, one of those 19th century novels that I always kind of figured that one day I would read and enjoy, as it seems the kind of 19th century novel that's entirely up my alley.
However! Turns out I gave up on it by 20% of the way in. Not because it's a bad book, but because....I just wasn't enjoying myself.
Here's the thing. The author, George Eliot, is evidently a clear-minded person with great powers to observe and depict the fullness of the complexities and foibles of humans. In the parts of the books I read, there were conversations that struck me as being impressively reflective of reality. But Eliot doesn't seem to like people. I don't need characters in books to all be paragons or something, but if the author can't give me reason to want to care about people in all their flaws, then what's the point in hanging out with her characters for 800 pages?
I think Middlemarch is very probably a brilliant book, and also, no thank you, I'm not going to bother reading the rest of it.
However! Turns out I gave up on it by 20% of the way in. Not because it's a bad book, but because....I just wasn't enjoying myself.
Here's the thing. The author, George Eliot, is evidently a clear-minded person with great powers to observe and depict the fullness of the complexities and foibles of humans. In the parts of the books I read, there were conversations that struck me as being impressively reflective of reality. But Eliot doesn't seem to like people. I don't need characters in books to all be paragons or something, but if the author can't give me reason to want to care about people in all their flaws, then what's the point in hanging out with her characters for 800 pages?
I think Middlemarch is very probably a brilliant book, and also, no thank you, I'm not going to bother reading the rest of it.