If you’ve spent time reading Edith Wharton, amiright?
Full disclosure: I haven’t read Wharton’s most well known novels, The Age of Innocence
and The House of Mirth
. I think I was assigned the former, at some point, and the latter, well, I’m guessing there’s little actual mirth involved.
My experience of Wharton is limited to Ethan Frome
, Tales of Men and Ghosts
, and the short story “Roman Fever
.” Each is so shudder inducing in its own way that I’m a bit wary of tackling one of her longer works. Though her writing is so beautiful. I don’t know. I’m torn. Continue reading “3 ways reading Edith Wharton is like a dementor attack”
