Well, I was bound to be back at some point. Oddly enough, I've been reading my usual (large) amount of books but haven't blogged in months - I possibly have to blame fatherhood and a move in between, but hey.
At this point, I've read Far From the Madding Crowd months ago and it's already starting to get blurry in my mind, but what has definitely remained with me is the fact that, somehow, I actually enjoyed it.
Pastoral, romantic, bucolic, 19th century-esque and all, but, one way or another, I ended up liking it. Maybe it's because shepherd Oak is such a wonderful figure, or maybe it's because I have always had a tendency to be bored to death by 19th century novels in my native Italian, but have had fewer similar issues with authors from other countries.
This is not to say that I absolutely loved it, because it doesn't really speak to my heart for obvious reason, but it's a book that was granted the right to move to our new flat with us, an honour that during times of austerity (I'm allowing myself enough books to fill an IKEA bookshelf, but not more for lack of space) should be respected.
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