![]() ![]() No lessons where learned, no growth could be measured, nothing but whining about how awful their situation was. To me they all felt like horrible stock fillers dressed up and swept from scene to scene, floating abysmally and near drowning in the fabricated woes of their lives. ![]() Never once did I feel the characters come alive. This takes me to my second point: unfortunately the pretty Astor allusions and Newport mummery could not save the complete pointlessness of this novel. ![]() It's wasn't bad per se, I don't mind bypassing historical accuracy (which was for the most part impressive and I commend) for some fun. ![]() I slogged my way through it though, with some interesting themes playing through my head to distract me from the mess held in my hands.įirstly it helped to imagine all the characters in Forsyte Saga level costumes (who let them get away with that atrocious cover?) and May Welland conversation abilities, so I guess that masked the sometimes lazy social etiquette and dialogue. What started promising soon spirited into a love web of unending proportions, with plot thin enough to glaze a donut and it's predictability so startling I asked myself if the last hundred pages were even worth skimming. Alright, as a reader well versed in the world of Edith Wharton and Gilded Age mores, I've got to say it was a lazy "fix for when the classics got a bit dry". ![]()
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