
At 900 pages, in prose that I can't help but stop to savour, I must admit it took a while ..
Although sometimes I feel Dickens paints characters a little too good or too bad to be true, they can still be immensely successful, partly owing to his genius for creating unforgettable characters, and partly because the qualities he gives them are often nonetheless very real/familiar human virtues and failings that stimulate empathy or antipathy, such as he clearly often feels himself.
David Copperfield has a rich line-up of such characters, perhaps the most famous being the egregious Uriah Heep, descriptions of whom are just so simultaneously brilliant, hilarious and repugnant, it's a bit like watching Monty Python's Ministry of Silly Walks sketch while having live maggots poured down your shirt.
His compassion, wit and powers of description seem to come from a quite inexhaustible reservoir, a spectacle in itself, and they light up the novel from beginning to end. A great and immensely enjoyable book.
Almost straight after DC I read the also excellent
Drive My Car by Haruki Murakami. Hard to imagine a greater contrast in prose style. Not surprisingly the short story is very different from the (marvellous) three hour film, but its distinct feel/atmosphere very much pervades the whole film I think.