The Forsyte Saga by John Galsworthy

Nine hundred odd pages - wow! I'd read this before, when I was much younger, and had seen the television adaptation. But it still has great power, the horror of being stuck in a loveless marriage, or worse in fact, one where you are actively repelled by the man you're married to. And that period where a woman is the property of the man, with no more power than a child. We've all been watching Downton Abbey, set in the same period, but really there is no comparison. One is romanticised and forgiving, set amidst perpetually sunny rose gardens, while the Galsworthy is incisive, shrinking from nothing. I enjoyed reading the saga of the beautiful Irene, the breakaway Young Jolyon, the oily Soames and his conniving, property obsessed relatives. It helps me see where all those middle-class attitudes about hard work and saving come from! It's also interesting to see how bad decisions and sadness in one generation can pass down a family and affect the future generations. It's a sort of English version of Anna Karenina, both in sentiment and length.