Odd, having read books this year by Penelope Fitzgerald, Muriel Spark, Barbara Pym, Cressida Connolly, Louisa Young, all of which had varying degrees and uses of venom, to come upon the benevolence of Meg Wolitzer. I'd grown used to the bite and wit of the British writers. Wolitzer has wit, but it is acid-free. Nothing wrong with that, but the principal characters in
The Female Persuasion are cartoonishly good, even a tad dully sanctimonious. Kept wishing for a little poke at them. Still, glad I read it. Very American.
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