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Updated: June 25, 2025
"Sir Charles Grandison" was the last, the most socially ambitious, and much the worst of Richardson's novel's. Smollett came to his best in his last, "Humphrey Clinker." Fielding sobered down into the kind excellence of his last, "Amelia." Neither had been flattered and coddled by literary ladies, like Richardson.
And whatever its abuses and degradations, the fourth estate is certainly one of the very few widely operative educational forces to-day, and has played an important part in spreading the idea of the brotherhood of man. That the essay and its branch form, the character sketch, both found in the Spectator Papers, were contributory to the Novel's development, is sure.
As might have been expected, this celebrated novel's name had galvanised him into life; he strolled over to the bookcase, took down a book, opened it, and began to read, wandering in a desultory way about the room. "Ha!
That the Monthly's review of Betsy Thoughtless, complaining of that novel's lack of "those entertaining introductory chapters, and digressive essays, which distinguish the works of a Fielding, a Smollett, or the author of Pompey the little," rankled in the fair novelist's memory is illustrated by a retort in her next work, Jemmy and Jenny Jessamy, III, Chap.
Haywood's earlier fictions, "The Agreeable Caledonian," had previously been used as the basis of a revision entitled "Clementina" . The reviewer of "Leonora" in the "Critical," though aware of the novel's shortcomings, still laments the passing of "the author of Betsy Thoughtless, our first guide in these delusive walks of fiction and fancy."
One time I lay in bed thinking about One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, a book Atmananda had recommended to me. At first I thought about the similarities between Atmananda and R. P. McMurphy, the novel's free-spirited protagonist. Both men, I realized, exuded auras of self-confidence. Atmananda, for instance, had once offered to teach me the secret of attracting women.
Apart from the question of the novel's style, which is turgid because the lyric note intrudes, the most legitimate objection to the book is the sentimentalism which pervades it throughout, and palls on the reader before he reaches the conclusion. Like Richardson in his Pamela, but far to a greater extent than Richardson, Balzac has placed the struggle on the physical plane.
"His mother named him," Abram said, "with a name that she had picked out of Novel's works, which she was forever and 'tarnally reading." "What day of the month is it, Verry?" "Third of October." "What happened a year ago to-day?" "Arthur fell off the roof of the wood-house." "Verry," he cried, "you needn't tell my sister of that; now she knows about my scar. You tell everything; she does not.
Suddenly it struck me that while Atmananda might be like McMurphy, he might also be like the novel's mean-spirited antagonist, Nurse Ratched, also known as Big Nurse. Both Atmananda and Big Nurse, I realized, discouraged their wards from exploring the outdoors. I remembered Atmananda warning me, before I went backpacking in Yosemite, that he was picking up bad vibes from the trip.
Under his touch the symphony, that most rigid and abstract and venerable of forms, was actually displaying some of the novel's narrative and analytical power, its literalness and concreteness of detail. It was describing the developments of a character, was psychologizing as it had hitherto done only in conjunction with poetry or the theater.
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