So I find that a lot of young people, when they start out reading the “grown up classics” on their own tend to start out with the usual suspects from the Victorian era. Myself included. Dickens, Wilde, the Brontes, maybe even Lord Byron or Poe.
Don’t get me wrong, I like Victorian lit, for the most part.
(Wilde is forever my BAE.)
But there’s a certain stiffness there, that is not that prominent in other eras. Even previous ones. The language is very formal or philosophical/academic or both.The storyline is more often than not, the excuse, not the reason. The tangents sometimes seem more like random university lectures. Of course, there is something to be said for the “art of conversation” featured in some titles. But a lot of the time, it often seems dreary. Dickens is more often than not overtly depressing, Wurthering Heights is dark and moody, Poe tends to be gloomy (though that’s understandable) the Brontes seem to be either dark or catty. (I get the impression Charlotte didn’t care for Jane Austen as an author.)
Sherlock can be fun, I suppose. So can a lot of the early sci fi. Like Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus.
But I kind of found it more fun to go through the various artistic movements before the Victorians. Reading Candide by Voltaire for example was actually a lot easier for me after a lot of the Victorians. Maybe my vocabulary just expanded, or I was just a little more “seasoned” by then. But it just seemed easier to read than some of the Victorians.
Thoughts? Comments? Reading recommendations?
And bonus question, participating in the readathon thingy affectionately dubbed “Victober?” I’m going to bust out some Sleepy Hollow stories myself.
Don’t get me wrong, I like Victorian lit, for the most part.
(Wilde is forever my BAE.)
But there’s a certain stiffness there, that is not that prominent in other eras. Even previous ones. The language is very formal or philosophical/academic or both.The storyline is more often than not, the excuse, not the reason. The tangents sometimes seem more like random university lectures. Of course, there is something to be said for the “art of conversation” featured in some titles. But a lot of the time, it often seems dreary. Dickens is more often than not overtly depressing, Wurthering Heights is dark and moody, Poe tends to be gloomy (though that’s understandable) the Brontes seem to be either dark or catty. (I get the impression Charlotte didn’t care for Jane Austen as an author.)
Sherlock can be fun, I suppose. So can a lot of the early sci fi. Like Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus.
But I kind of found it more fun to go through the various artistic movements before the Victorians. Reading Candide by Voltaire for example was actually a lot easier for me after a lot of the Victorians. Maybe my vocabulary just expanded, or I was just a little more “seasoned” by then. But it just seemed easier to read than some of the Victorians.
Thoughts? Comments? Reading recommendations?
And bonus question, participating in the readathon thingy affectionately dubbed “Victober?” I’m going to bust out some Sleepy Hollow stories myself.
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