*A Tale of Two Cities
A Tale of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
Perhaps Dickens' diction puts some distance between my mind and his world, along with the years that have passed between us, but I like it. His fictive reality is never anything but on the page, simplified, crafted, but wonderful for it.
"she looked so beautiful in the purity of her faith in this lost man, that her husband could have looked at her as she was for hours"
Also what a novel! Not a scene wasted, tied up as neat as Christmas. I agree with John in his looking forward to finding a child to read this to. I am jealous of the storybook-ness of it: men that look suspiciously like each other, siblings that appear out of the mob, secrets waiting expectantly to be resolved, and that effortless telescoping of time.
"Such a heart Madame Defarge carried under her rough robe. Carelessly worn, it was a becoming robe enough, in a certain weird way, and her hair looked rich under her coarse red cap. Lying hidden in her bosom, was a loaded pistol. Lying hidden at her waist, was a sharpened dagger. Thus accoutred, and walking with the confident tread of such a character, and with the supple freedom of a woman who had habitually walked in her girlhood, bare-foot and bare-legged, on the brown sea sand, Madame Defarge took her way along the streets."
Perhaps Dickens' diction puts some distance between my mind and his world, along with the years that have passed between us, but I like it. His fictive reality is never anything but on the page, simplified, crafted, but wonderful for it.
"she looked so beautiful in the purity of her faith in this lost man, that her husband could have looked at her as she was for hours"
Also what a novel! Not a scene wasted, tied up as neat as Christmas. I agree with John in his looking forward to finding a child to read this to. I am jealous of the storybook-ness of it: men that look suspiciously like each other, siblings that appear out of the mob, secrets waiting expectantly to be resolved, and that effortless telescoping of time.
"Such a heart Madame Defarge carried under her rough robe. Carelessly worn, it was a becoming robe enough, in a certain weird way, and her hair looked rich under her coarse red cap. Lying hidden in her bosom, was a loaded pistol. Lying hidden at her waist, was a sharpened dagger. Thus accoutred, and walking with the confident tread of such a character, and with the supple freedom of a woman who had habitually walked in her girlhood, bare-foot and bare-legged, on the brown sea sand, Madame Defarge took her way along the streets."
posted by Bobby Nintendo at 11:12 PM
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