Novel & Cerita Book Review On Sense And Sensibility

"I suppose no place in London is truly safe, which is why no woman should walk the streets alone, especially in the evening." Her gaze grew distant for a moment. "It is a mistake I will not make again." Then she looked down at her book. "Next question, my lord." Well, he'd tried. Perhaps a more circuitous route was required to win her trust. "What book are you reading?" He nodded at the tome she'd set aside. "Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations." "Truly?" He blinked at her. Most men he knew couldn't finish that book, and he'd never given much thought to whether a woman would read it. Not that he didn't think a woman could manage it, just that it was so bloody boring

He simply was, a mountain in the chaos, and she found herself wanting to scale him. On the fifth day, she found it. The book was unassuming, bound in a dark, supple hide that felt like the inside of a thigh. There was no title. She picked it up. The effect was instantaneous and overwhelming. It wasn't a memory or an emotion. It was pure, undiluted sensation. A phantom mouth closed over her nipple, tongue and teeth working in a rhythm that made her gasp. A hand, large and calloused, slid up the inside of her thigh. It was so vivid, so physical, her knees buckled and she had to brace herself against the shelves.

I had a college reading list now, since the enrollment had been confirmed, and I was working through it with the particular ambivalence of someone doing something sensible while reserving the right to resent the sensibility of it. The book was good. The book was actually good, better than the description had implied, better than the list had suggested it would be, the kind of good that requires you to stop periodically and look up from the page just to let the previous paragraph finish arriving. I had been stopping and looking up with regularity.

After resting for a while, they walked around and saw a bookstore which they both agreed to enter. She was reading the back of Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen when Jacob asked her. “What do you say let’s read horror books? Like the ones we watched today?” “Eh? I’m scared. You go read first, then give me a summary, then I’ll decide. Haha!” “Roger!” as he picked The Dunwich Horror and Others by H.P. Lovecraft and IT by Stephen King. They finished book shopping, it was around three in the afternoon when Jacob invited her to go somewhere else.

With gestures, not words. I sat on the bed slowly and unwrapped it. A new book. Thick, bound in leather, smelling expensive, old, and important at the same time. ‘The Silent Crown.’ I ran my thumb over the title and shook my head. He picked perfectly. Always perfect. His love may be feral, dark, filthy with hunger and violence—but his gifts? They were thoughtful. Personal. Intimate. I opened the book and started reading. Not because I cared about the story.

At her feet, there were four books. All written by Jane Austen. Pride and Prejudice. Sense and sensibility. Persuasion. Emma. She had another book open in her hands, and when she looked up at me, flashing me a smile that showed off her perfect pearly white teeth, my heart skipped. She was angelic. For a moment, I didn't move. Couldn't. I didn't speak either – just stood there gawking at the beauty of her. She must have thought I was awkward.

"I was just dropping a book I borrowed from the library." It was really none of my business but I still asked anyways. "Which one?" "Sense and Sensibility." "I didn't know you read Jane Austen." Then again, I didn't know a lot about him in the first place but it was kinda hard to picture the school's star quarterback buried in one of Austen's creations. For some reason, my mind drifted off to Blake, I could picture him reading literature and looking natural at it. "I don't." I saw him hold an eye roll as he continued talking. "Mandy is into them for some reason now and she keeps going on and on about reading shit together as a couple."

He follows it up with silk hand gloves which he drops on my palms. Quietly, I follow his orders, taking care not to rip the hand gloves with my hastiness. "You can open it now." He pronounces. "You can't get much cleaner than that." With shaky hands, I skim the hand cover of the book, running my fingers through it and feeling the hard leather beneath my tips. Flipping it open, I stare in shock at the words written there. Pride and prejudice. Written by Jane Austen. Edited by William Gifford.

I said and then got the book in the phone and started to read the book. As I read the book, I found it more and more interesting. I was just simply reading her a book but the content that was in there was way more interesting than it could be. I loved every parts of it. The way Elizabeth behaved, her proud and wise nature, her smartness, her innocence and her way of loving Mr. Darcy. But she was prejudiced most of the times about Mr. Darcy.

Since then, he hasn't sent another one or even tried calling. I started packing my things into my suit bag to leave work for today. Corby was right. I do need a break and the best way to spend that, is by seating at home by the window, with a mug of coffee in my hand, while I read my favourite book. Pride and prejudice. The book helps me get away from my own life of loneliness and misery. Knowing Elizabeth Bennet and Darcy went through a lot with love, makes me feel at ease. Even though they did end up together, I'm not sure that, that part would apply to my life.