Take a photo of a barcode or cover
A review by mike_morse
Middlemarch by George Eliot
5.0
I love so much about this book I hardly know where to start. It seemed that not a single page went by that I didn't gasp in wonderment at some perfect sentence. I loved the vocabulary, with so many rich words that we don't seem to use any more (our loss). The characters were so rich and vibrant and funny that I was sad when the author's viewpoint moved away from them. I want to have the whole lot of them over for dinner! To me, this book is unfortunate proof that people are (no way to sugar coat it) getting dumber. I have been ruined for other books.
In most books I am slightly annoyed when the author interjects statements about the human condition or the character's lives. My thinking is that the author's job is to show those things in the characters, not to state them. However, in Middlemarch, the author's thoughts are so insightful and deep, I welcomed them. Here are some random examples:
"But what we call our despair is often the painful eagerness of unfed hope." "He married care, not help." "And in his [Will's:] presence she felt that agreeable titillation of vanity and sense of romantic drama that Lidgate's presence no longer had the magic to create."
In most books I am slightly annoyed when the author interjects statements about the human condition or the character's lives. My thinking is that the author's job is to show those things in the characters, not to state them. However, in Middlemarch, the author's thoughts are so insightful and deep, I welcomed them. Here are some random examples:
"But what we call our despair is often the painful eagerness of unfed hope." "He married care, not help." "And in his [Will's:] presence she felt that agreeable titillation of vanity and sense of romantic drama that Lidgate's presence no longer had the magic to create."