In the tradition of wonderfully lengthy subtitles occasionally found in literature, I'd like to subtitle this review "OR How A Lazy English Major Finally Finished One Of The Most Cherished Works Of British Literature."
Now I can finally stop feeling like a literary poseur for seeing multiple film versions of this book but never reading the book. I confess that the middle third of this book kind of dragged for me; and frankly Mrs. Bennet drove me crazy. I can't figure out why Mr. Bennet, who seems so much more sensible, married such a ditz. But the last third really kicked into gear and had me turning pages, even though I knew how the story turned out. So ultimately I closed the book feeling satisfied, and partially understanding why people reread this book multiple times.