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Hamlet is the one cousin at the family function who's too woke

Can't wait to finish this and the next book until I reach a feast for crows and watch Jaime's redemption in real time. This man's arc is very important to me.

Gotta love a book that starts with the MC turning her brother into a pig

DNFed this a long time ago because it's just sex sex sex sex sex and more sex talk in these 20 pages alone. I'm pretty sure "Normal People" don't think about sex 24/7. Maybe it's a British thing.
Soldiering on because I spent money on this and I can't let it go to waste in THIS economy.

The book's sitting at solid 4 stars for now. Let's see if the ending is visceral enough to bump it to a full 5.

The primary question the story poses so far seems to be whether the defining trait of a human is their intelligence or their ability to feel. It's an interesting debate especially in the larger context of Charlie's character, seeing as now that his IQ has skyrocketed he seems to be less of the understanding man he was at the start of the book. Eager to see how this debate further unfolds.

Started this while I'm on my period and I've cried like 3 times so far. That's once for every ten pages. This book will devastate me.

My indifference towards Austen's writing makes so much sense now that I've found out that Charlotte Brontë, although greatly admired Austen, was not particularly fond of her work. Mother knows best.

Why am I not feeling this book on a visceral level?

James Thorpe, you conniving little cunt! Ahhh I hate this man so much.

Austen seems to have a habit of using lengthy sentences where concise sentences would flow more naturally. I hope this stylistic choice is limited to this particular book of hers.

I cannot determine how good of an idea it was to choose Northanger Abbey as my first Jane Austen novel, especially since I'm still riding the absolutely magnificent high of Jane Eyre (I will never stop thinking about that book, EVER) but I'm hoping to marry my literary senses into the groove of Austen's style gradually.

I miss my OG Day one Yapper Mr Rochester 😓 St John's yapping doesn't hit the same

Also ROACHester was low-key pissing me off he better get his shit together when they reunite like be done with your sob story we all got problems mf

Jane really said fuck it we ball when she left Thornfield like she had no prospects lined up and I low-key respect that wish I could run off into the wild with a bonnet, some bread and a pitcher of water

Mr. Rochester out here being an even better gaslighter than my mom; a feat I thought insurmountable.

This is the calm before the storm, isn't it? I can feel it in the marrow of my bones.

I'm laughing so hard right now Charlotte Brontë you absolute gem of a woman I wish I could kiss you right now

Mr Rochester out here fighting Jane for nine pounds. This book is an absolute comedic treasure 🙏😭

WHAT IS THIS MAN'S PROBLEM WHO DISGUISES THEMSELVES AS A ROMANI FORTUNE TELLING CRONE IN ORDER TO GET THEIR CRUSH TO CONFESS TO THEM WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME ROCHESTER AND WHY DO I ACTUALLY FUCK WITH THIS HEAVY HE'S LITERALLY ME

I'd take a shot every time Jane thinks Mr. Rochester is ugly but then I'd be dead by alcohol poisoning by the end of the book.

Mr. Rochester? More like Mr. Certified Yapper™

Mr Rochester is literally me. He's fucking hilarious.

Wait—nevermind. Rochester is low-key funny. I kinda fuck with him.

this Rochester fellow is fucking intimidating. I feel like if you put me and Mr Rochester in the same room I'd probably run out crying in 5 minutes what is this man's problem 😭

"God stares and stares at me. I wonder how I could ever have mistaken that expression for love."

I love being reminded exactly why no book will ever out do my love for this one

My recent obsession with River Phoenix has prompted me to re-read this beauty while envisioning River as Peeta (I just need any excuse to read this book for the nth time)

I bought this along with Fire and Blood back in April so reading this is long overdue. My first classic novel in a really long time, let's hope all goes well 🤞

Reading the end with Amber Waves by Ethel Cain on repeat was like writing my own obituary.