As with others here, this was a book club selection spurred
by Newsweek's nod of "The Way We Live Now" as top 50 nomination.
While people point to the Madoff-Melmotte connection, I like
the idea that some distant Trollope heir somehow got the ear
and/or illicit photos of a Newsweek staffer, and voila, more
readership.

The novel remains eminently readable, 130+ after its serialized
debut...but then won't TV soap opera "Dallas" by rather readily
perceived in a century so? I hope to be around to be proved
wrong, but am not counting on it.

As such, the book for me was a bit of a struggle to get through.
Especially as the first several hundred pages focus on the
travails of ne'er-do-well (and ne'er-do-much) Felix Carbury and
his blinded by love and/or ambition mother. I can understand
the fascination of reading about the rich, and reading about
the stupid and for some the intersection of both is the spoilt
creme de la creme.

Not for me though...

After awhile, I figured that this was played for ridicule if
not laughs for its original audience, but here in 2010 in
the US of A, where we like to pretend classes don't exist,
just didn't often come near my funny bone. Frumpy frippery?
Okay, but then you have the characters who are as rooted as
the trees that were planted other trees were felled to
make copies of "The Punch" where this debuted.

I just have a hard time with characters that are 100%
snidely, with a dash of whiplash. I wanted to see one
sympathetic side of Augustus Melmotte. You know, besides
the fat and greasy sides. The country club comeuppance
of the new old boys at the Beargarden, again am I too
laugh? Surely not to empathize.

Even my crush on the American femme fatala, Winifred
Hurtle, is likely misplaced. Probably she was to be
received ribaldly as one of those headstrong American
women. Pursuing Paul Montague across the pond, and
other social barriers??

My favorite part of the book club review was having
at least one of the women in the club, half-seriously
and half-humorously fall in love with John Crumb.
Simpleton extraodrinaire...Crumb is a man of action more
than words, largely because words fall out his mouth
the way an axe might fall from my type writing fingers
what with the way we live now.

As an side note, this was the first book I've read on
a Kindle, in a way, I think it helped with the heft
of the book. And I certainly feel kids should have
Kindle's (or I-Pads or whatever your company makes)
sooner rather than later for transporting their
required reading around. Getting quick editorial
updates, reducing costs and so forth.

Back to the book, cannot really recommend reading this,
maybe in conjunction with some literary theory
addressing the time of writing, or with someone who
is a bit of a buff. But if this is indeed to play
broadly for laughs, then why study of for another
era's jokes. If this is to be read to hiss and
sneer at scoundrels, today's trades may proffer
more deserving current candidates.