A Tale of Two Cities (1859)

I thought it was about time I read a classic.
I loved the opening passage "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness ..."
At the end it was just as good a page turner as modern novels.
An eye opener, I was astounded at the brutality of the revolution, the inhumanity of the revolutionaries. I presume quite historically accurate.
Good portrayal of characters and subtle revelation of relationships. ( )

About five years ago I made my first visit to Boston, Massachusetts. Upon my arrival at the home of the friend I was staying with, her cousin offered me a cup of tea. Given that I'd been awake for a dashedly long time and had to stay awake for a few hours more I instead requested some coffee. This was met with some skepticism. "But you're English," the cousin helpfully noticed, "you drink tea." I pointed out that whilst most Englishmen preferred being served a nice cup of tea by their butler while sitting in their castles, I was half English and half mathematician, and thus was allowed to indulge in both of the hot beverages in existence.

This got me my coffee but also led to a conversation wherein I had to confess to not conforming to every stereotype of a spiffing young English chap. After the revelation that I could drink hot liquids that weren't tea, the most startling fact to my friend and her cousin was that I had never read any of the works of Charles Dickens. (Mildly less startling to them was that I'd never read any Jane Austen, in my defence I pointed out my lack of ovaries.)

Now, five years later I've finally lost my Dickens virginity. And so we come to A Tale of Two Cities, that most dangerous of books for Reverend Spooner to talk about in polite company. It took me a little while to get into this book, Dickens has a habit of not using a few words when lots of words will suffice. But while this was initially irritating, I eventually came around to his style and really began to enjoy myself. The characters are colourful, far from one-dimensional, and the light heartedness that pervades much of the book serves to highlight the dark side of many characters. I laughed when the book was amusing and shed a manly tear at the end. This was the third book that deals with the French revolution I've read this year and by far the shortest, but even put alongside [b:War and Peace|220858|War and Peace|Leo Tolstoy|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1267921810s/220858.jpg|4912783] and [b:Les Misérables|2225130|Les Misérables|Victor Hugo|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1222130242s/2225130.jpg|3208463] this book holds its own. I may have started on him late, but I see much of Mr Dickens in my future. ( )

About five years ago I made my first visit to Boston, Massachusetts. Upon my arrival at the home of the friend I was staying with, her cousin offered me a cup of tea. Given that I'd been awake for a dashedly long time and had to stay awake for a few hours more I instead requested some coffee. This was met with some skepticism. "But you're English," the cousin helpfully noticed, "you drink tea." I pointed out that whilst most Englishmen preferred being served a nice cup of tea by their butler while sitting in their castles, I was half English and half mathematician, and thus was allowed to indulge in both of the hot beverages in existence.

This got me my coffee but also led to a conversation wherein I had to confess to not conforming to every stereotype of a spiffing young English chap. After the revelation that I could drink hot liquids that weren't tea, the most startling fact to my friend and her cousin was that I had never read any of the works of Charles Dickens. (Mildly less startling to them was that I'd never read any Jane Austen, in my defence I pointed out my lack of ovaries.)

Now, five years later I've finally lost my Dickens virginity. And so we come to A Tale of Two Cities, that most dangerous of books for Reverend Spooner to talk about in polite company. It took me a little while to get into this book, Dickens has a habit of not using a few words when lots of words will suffice. But while this was initially irritating, I eventually came around to his style and really began to enjoy myself. The characters are colourful, far from one-dimensional, and the light heartedness that pervades much of the book serves to highlight the dark side of many characters. I laughed when the book was amusing and shed a manly tear at the end. This was the third book that deals with the French revolution I've read this year and by far the shortest, but even put alongside [b:War and Peace|220858|War and Peace|Leo Tolstoy|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1267921810s/220858.jpg|4912783] and [b:Les Misérables|2225130|Les Misérables|Victor Hugo|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1222130242s/2225130.jpg|3208463] this book holds its own. I may have started on him late, but I see much of Mr Dickens in my future. ( )

If only all Dickens was so easy to read. Normally, reading his work is like chewing on language - lovely, wonderful language, yes, but time consuming nonetheless. A Tale of Two Cities is very different. There is still the elegance of writing that one expects from Dickens, but it's tied in with what I like to call a Ripping Yarn, along with his usual, brilliant social commentary.

I picked this book up, expecting it to be a challenge. Instead, I couldn't put it down. ( )

Wow. What starts as a seemingly loose bundle of unrelated characters becomes woven together in a masterful tapestry of love, sacrifice, and devotion; amidst a backdrop of injustice, deceit, and tyranny. Themes of atonement, resurrection, the abuse of power run throughout. 18th century Paris in the throes of revolution and its associated Terror, skilfully instilled with language replete with symbolism: of red wine as blood, being devoured by the insatiable appetite of the revolutionaries, drunk on its horrors, delivering thousands to the cold efficiency of the gullotine for no other crime than their name. Amidst it all, an expiatory death and a great story of love and atonement. If you can navigate the figurative (and at time challenging and archaic) language, and keep you finger on the pulse of the narrative, this is both a great story and a chilling account of the Parisian’s experience of the French Revolution. ( )