I always forget, when not reading the classics, that the reason they are classics is because they are very, very good. Yes, they take a little more energy to engage with, but it’s absolutely worth it.
I read Vanity Fair because I’d been meaning to for years, and finally mustered the enthusiasm. Then I read it voraciously and rapidly, because once I was past the initial reluctance, I was hooked. This happens every time I pick up something highly regarded but ostensibly dull, and I really should learn from this. Continue reading “Vanity Fair – William Makepeace Thackeray (Review)”