It is time, my friends, for the Fourth Annual May Dickens Read-Along. If you're reading Martin Chuzzlewit with me we'll start out near Salisbury, with the sun gleaming through the clouds on an old village church.
From the ivy-shaded windows such gleams of light shone back upon the glowing sky, that it seemed as if the quiet buildings were the hoarding-place of twenty summers, and all their ruddiness and warmth were stored within.
Well, actually we start with a weird genealogy chapter that reminds a person, despite a few bons mots, that Dickens was frequently paid by the word. But chapter 2 is looking better already.
Are you reading some Dickens with me this May? If you start tonight, you'll have three weeks before the FAMDRAL turns into the FAJOIBODE. (That's the Fourth Annual June "Oops, I'm Behind on Dickens" Experience.)
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