I get it now. David Copperfield is a long book, don’t get me wrong, but I devoured the thing like a drunk woman eating a kebab. Every word is purposeful, every character is a delectable caricature, every element of the story is consistent and compelling, and every emotion beautifully captured and rendered. Some commentators criticise Dickens for what they call “supermarket” writing: novels were the primary source of family entertainment at the time (the Netflix of Victorian England, really), so Dickens had to write about politics for the fathers and adventures for the sons and romance for the mothers and daughters. But, in my humble opinion, it’s precisely this chuck-a-bit-of-everything style that makes this such an incredible book.

Read my full review of the book (with a lot of gushing about how much I love Dickens included free of charge) over at www.keepingupwiththepenguins.com