A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
"Sadly, sadly, the sun rose; it rose upon no sadder sight than the man of good abilities and good emotions, incapable of their directed exercise, incapable of his own help and his own happiness, sensible of the blight on him, and resigning himself to let it eat him away."
An Old Tale With Sublime Moments
You expected the best of times and the worst of times for an appetizer, I'm sure. Surprise!
My first exposure to Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities, began a lot less glamorously than expected. Yes, the introduction is splendid, yet the plot's pacing seemed to me more plodding. Perhaps that's partly due to the episodic delivery it originally had, with chapters released in a weekly publication. Or due to my overexposure to Vines, Tik-Toks, and spastically elated Adventure Time episodes.
But I pressed on into discovery after discovery of the most poignant vignettes. Intrepid details of a British street corner or a Parisian mob or a particular individual at a precise moment bejewel Dicken's tales with such vivid portraits—each a small window framed within the pages that peers directly into a shard of reality that so splendidly reflects aspects of our times and our hearts.
Thanks, Grandma Nana.
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