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mardzipan 's review for:
Brideshead Revisited
by Evelyn Waugh
"Oh dear," said Julia, "where can we hide in fair weather, we orphans of the storm?"
I feel insane to have liked this novel as much as I did. Especially when it seems several people found it an absolute chore to read. I, myself, found it initially an absolute chore to read. Especially after that absolutely God-awful chapter two rant on the whole Flyte unit that one needs to grit their teeth through and bear with.
So why did I find myself liking it? There is something fascinating about seeing the fragile lives of Old Money people. It feels like gazing through a gilded glass cabinet at fine china, staring at its stillness, its stubborn preservation. Meanwhile, the world moves on from it. Sebastian, in particular, is a fascinating character in his juvenile avoidance of being a participant in the adult world; his attachment to his nanny and his teddy bear juxtaposed against his drinking, insulates him from responsibilities.
There were certainly times in the beginning when I felt like I was reading such a privileged lifestyle that it felt like it had no relevance to the world today. But, taking a step back, there are still some curious connections to a naivety that is lost in the presence of war, hardship, and progress. Of course, there is the whole issue of class and exploration of Catholicism as well.
Overall, would I suggest this novel to a person? No, I really wouldn't. I don't think many will honestly enjoy this. But I did.
I feel insane to have liked this novel as much as I did. Especially when it seems several people found it an absolute chore to read. I, myself, found it initially an absolute chore to read. Especially after that absolutely God-awful chapter two rant on the whole Flyte unit that one needs to grit their teeth through and bear with.
So why did I find myself liking it? There is something fascinating about seeing the fragile lives of Old Money people. It feels like gazing through a gilded glass cabinet at fine china, staring at its stillness, its stubborn preservation. Meanwhile, the world moves on from it. Sebastian, in particular, is a fascinating character in his juvenile avoidance of being a participant in the adult world; his attachment to his nanny and his teddy bear juxtaposed against his drinking, insulates him from responsibilities.
There were certainly times in the beginning when I felt like I was reading such a privileged lifestyle that it felt like it had no relevance to the world today. But, taking a step back, there are still some curious connections to a naivety that is lost in the presence of war, hardship, and progress. Of course, there is the whole issue of class and exploration of Catholicism as well.
Overall, would I suggest this novel to a person? No, I really wouldn't. I don't think many will honestly enjoy this. But I did.