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( , Sun 1 Apr 2001, 1:00)
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Dickens, though, is fucking shit, as is Zola and the rest of the realist authors of the 19th century. Twenty pages to describe the setting and half a page to describe a year's worth of action.
There's a couple of authors I love, and always read what they release. Nothing Booker-worthy or anything. One's a chick lit type girl, and the others are thriller/mystery/adventure books.
Basically, if a book sleeve mentions 'centuries' old mystery' and 'change the face of the world', I'm there.
( , Thu 2 Aug 2012, 12:43, 2 replies, latest was 13 years ago)

Fucking horrendous. As if Dickens wasn't bad enough, try having to read Zola in French.
And don't get me started on Goethe.
( , Thu 2 Aug 2012, 12:46, Reply)

Does nit mean it is in any way superior or more enjoyable.
Having said that, Beckett is fucking funny.
( , Thu 2 Aug 2012, 12:50, Reply)

and Ionesco. I did a module on Theatre of the Absurd in my final year. Bloody brilliant.
( , Thu 2 Aug 2012, 12:57, Reply)

Germinal? Toss. Thérèse Raquin? No thank you.
The other extreme isn't much better. Ever read Flaubert?
Alain Robbe-Grillet, on the other hand, is bloody brilliant. Les Gommes is a wonderful dream-sequence of a book, where the character doesn't know who he is or whether he's real, or what else is real, and he's detective-ing.
As I rather pretentiously said in my A Level French oral exam, it's the antithesis of Cartesian philosphy.
( , Thu 2 Aug 2012, 12:51, Reply)

So I guess you must be right*
* not all right
( , Thu 2 Aug 2012, 13:14, Reply)
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