I finished “Pride And Prejudice” last night. If you’re in love with the book, you might not want to continue reading this.
Consider yourself warned.
I fully understand that this book was penned in the early 19th century, and I fully understand that talking at length was probably a hobby back then when there wasn’t a ton of recreation opportunities (or at least nowhere near what we have available in this day of talking in abbreviations in order to say as much as we can in as little time as possible).
But goodness. I’m pretty sure that I could have learned all that is vital to the story in less than half the pages.
On top of that, the story seemed to drag on until the third and final of its volumes. I must admit that I only read the first two so I could get past them.
That ugliness said, I did enjoy the story, and the characters were interesting to become acquainted with. This is the only book I’ve ever read that makes me think I would enjoy seeing it on film more than reading it.
I never thought I’d admit that, but it is what it is.
