A review by boezaaah
Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton

3.0

”He seemed a part of the mute melancholy landscape, an incarnation of its frozen woe, with all that was warm and sentient in him fast bound below the surface; but there was nothing unfriendly in his silence. I simply felt that he lived in a depth of moral isolation too remote for casual access, and I had the sense that his loneliness was not merely the result of his personal plight, tragic as I guessed that to be, but had in it, as Harmon Gow had hinted, the profound accumulated cold of many Starkfield winters.”

Romeo and Juliet meets The Awakening by Kate Chopin? This was beautiful and painful and perfectly melancholy. I can’t wait to read more of Edith Wharton’s works!