I prefer at least Jane Eyre (the rest I have not read yet). Austen just dwellt on the same topic all the way. I do not think she could have got into the classics list if she hadn't been of real use. Although she is witty, she is nothing more but witty. But she does it well...



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). War and Peace irked me because I expected to find exactly what you have described, and what I read sounded like Tolstoy's Hymn to Himself (extended mix). And not in the good, Leaves of Grass sense of the phrase. I kept reading in the expectation that it would eventually stop setting my teeth on edge, but it didn't. I'm sure Tolstoy's traumatised
"It's so mysterious, the land of tears." 
