I'm still working my way through
Clarissa, and it's still fascinatingly dull. I was amused by this bit in the introduction (written in 1932): "To-day it is safe to assume that no intelligent person reads
Clarissa without previously knowing the plot." It's a bizarre assumption, because the author is not only confusing intelligence with being well-read, but also suggesting that no one would read
Clarissa without already knowing the plot. I don't know about you, but sometimes I read books just so I can
find out the plot. Strangest of all, he assumes that
Clarissa has a plot. I guess you could say it does, but I've read 450 pages, and she's still locked up in her room, not wanting to marry Mr. Solmes, and not admitting that her
conditional liking for Lovelace could be anything more than that.
Three hundred pages have gone by with no material difference in Clarissa's life!
Labels: classics