There it was on page 274. The conversation I had been rather impatiently waiting for.
“The happiness which this reply produced, was such as he had probably never felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do.”
I did not finish this book quite as quickly as most books I start. Probably due to some impossibly long sentences and even longer paragraphs that, upon the slightest interruption, I was forced to reread. I believe if I had been raised in the 1800s, my attention span would be much longer, and I’m sure I’d have read the book from cover to cover in a day or two. But as it is, I had to digest each new scene in the story before moving on to the next one.
But I loved it. I really did. I loved the story. Loved the characters. (though Jane was just a little too perfect and a little too naive for me.) Loved that I was totally engrossed in a completely different time period. Loved that fornication was frowned upon instead of glorified. And I loved that though Mr. Darcy seemed conceited, he was really just an introvert. Gotta love an introvert. And, of course, I loved most of all that Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy fell violently in love.
You may wonder how a girl with a degree in English Literary Studies made it to age 37 without reading this book. I’ll tell ya. When you are forced to read stacks of classic literature to pass a college course, the books become horrible, even if they are wonderful. That’s what happened with Sense and Sensibility. It was one of many books I had to read in a very short span of time, and I hated every minute of it. So I had no desire to pick up another Jane Austen book. Ever.
Then a couple friends told me I had to give Pride and Prejudice a chance. So I did. Mostly for them. And I was most pleasantly surprised. 🙂 (Thanks Deanna and Marisa.)
I guess I made need to add Sense and Sensibility to my list of books to reread!