I was wondering why I was making so little headway in Lost Illusions in the last few days. I know realize it’s because I was coming up on a big party scene.
A Balzac party scene means indigestible speeches about whatever Balzac is worked up about, often with some sort of satirical intent, I guess. This one is about journalism. Journalists are cynical betrayers of all that is good in art and life, and publishers are even worse. OK. Now, on with the actual novel.
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