I feel drained. Cannot find any wit in me, so maybe a little (dull) ride on Dickens?
He, on the other hand, must have had fun writing. Being really concerned about the social changes caused by industrial revolution, he observed and commented the hardships of the poorest groups, yet even most serious and gloomy topics are described with such wit and humour that it is impossible not to laugh.
The richness of the text, the abundance of words bring sheer joy, unfortunately also make me realise, how poor my English is. Amble; gnarl; riven; bough; garrulous; grisly; huff; brazier...
English is my second language, so maybe no surprise here, but maybe it is also about the way nowadays the language is being used, is getting flattened. I imagine English especially, being so popular for its simplicity. I do not need a dictionary reading modern prose. Well, not for almost every sentence.
So there are descriptions. Fascinating to imagine, how all these crazy comparisons were twirling in his mind.
Reflects Twemlow; (...) cheeks drawn in as if he had made a great effort to retire into himself some years ago, and had got so far and had never got any farther.
Other excitements Dickens brings is use of, one of my most favourite tricks in the world, repetitions!
Mr and Mrs Veneering were bran-new people in a bran-new house in a bran-new quarter of London. Everything about the Veneerings' was spick and span new. All their furniture was new, all their friends were new, all their servants were new, their plate was new, their carriage was new, their harness was new, their horses were new, their pictures were new, they themselves were new, they were as newly married as was lawfully compatible with their having a bran-new baby...
And here they both meet:
[...] young gentleman; with too much nose in his face, too much ginger in his whiskers, too much torso in his waistcoat, too much sparkle in his studs, his eyes, his buttons, his talk, and his teeth.
Is it really so much fun, or is it just me... being in love?