So this is me tracking the re-read (or rather, re-listen—though I’m not sure how I consumed it the first time) of “North and South.” It’s an imperfect book, but utterly delightful, and very comparable to both “Pride and Prejudice” and “Jane Eyre” in terms of plot. The language is more workmanlike than Bronte’s lovely prose, and the dialogue less sparkling than Austen’s bright badinage, but “North and South” has a homely charm that deserves more recognition.