Like many people, I have a tendency to simplify things in my world through generalizations. Generalizations are awesome. If I were younger and more crass, I might even say they were the shit. If we didn’t have generalizations, every single topic would take hours to go through in our minds because there are so very, very many exceptions to absolutely everything.
Unlike Steinbeck, whom I would make out with in two seconds, I have zero interest in meeting Dickens (since both of these are so very possible, I thought I’d make my stances clear). My entire perception of him is colored by this wife-leaving fact. And not even so much the wife-leaving, but the subsequent hypocrisy of his books. It just sucks. I still unfortunately love said books, and will be writing about why he kicks Austen’s delightful Regency ass in nine days, but the reading of them is always marred for me the slightest bit by him being a douchebag.