Here’s a nice appreciation by Wolcott of Brideshead Revisited, which coincidentally I just re-read for the umpteenth time and — as when re-reading To the Lighthouse a few months earlier — wondered why I’d even bothered to read it before, since this felt like the first time I “got it.” Same with Howards End, a few years ago. (Read that at 22. Why?) But I look forward to having the same experience in a few years when I read Brideshead again, and then think “How could I have possibly appreciated this at the callow age of 55?” (Everybody in it, even at their maturity, are so much younger and callower than that! And yet …)
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William Hogeland 