Ever notice that, when you're reading 18th and 19th century literature, and you look around your department at all the internecine warfare, 'cutting,' constant threat of utter ruin at the slightest misstep, and desperation to be among the 'right set', you know precisely what the author must have had in mind? And you can tell who's at which level of the new aristocracy?
He's new, but he knew Said personally. Um, Viscount.
That other new guy -- he met Bloom once. Baronet.
Her? She knows everybody, and has angered them all. Impoverished Marchioness; you might as well have a conversation with a milkmaid.
It's fun.
[Update: Ever notice that you write something, and then publish it, and then read it and think, "D'oh! Not what I wanted to convey at all!"? Ah, the difficulties of having a 'raw' blog. Anyway, I don't actually court the 'right people.' In fact, with my foot-shooting tendencies (did it again this week) I'm most likely to become some sort of impoverished and/or 'fallen' milkmaid. The fun part is deciding who is which character, and which character they should aspire to become. As for me, I'd like to become Eliza Bennett -- minus the love of difficult men -- but chances are that I'm Kitty. Elizabeth wouldn't have to update a post. ]
1 comment:
Clanger,
No worries. I am constitutionally incapable of pretending to like people I don't like. I'd like to call that integrity, but really it's more like lack of impulse control.
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