Pride and Prometheus: The Post-Perusing Depression of Great Novels

I finished a fantastic book for my Jane Austen book club today. Pride and Prometheus was supposed to be my “reward” for getting work done.

But I read a little bit during breakfast–I just wanted to get to the end of the chapter I fell asleep on last night–and I couldn’t make myself put it down. It had fascinating characters. It had remarkable pacing. It stayed so true to the timeline and events of the source novels, that as I approached the climax I was incapable of tearing my eyes from the p...