We just finished Ford's The Good Soldier. For some reason, the book kept reminding me of a Fitgerald novel where the characters go through just so much angst and tragedy and have terrible things happen to them. You know--where the protagonist is still with us at the end of the story, but is living in a sort of hellish existence with everyone he cares about either dead or gone from their lives. A Modern tale, of course, where the characters have sort of given up on society and on ever making any sense out of anything--no faith, no hope, no future.
I liked Ford's novel, although not as much as Joyce's Portrait of the Artist. On to Mrs. Dalloway, and Woolf...

I am constantly thinking about writing this thesis paper. It is driving me a little nuts. I think I finally have a clear idea, however, and my essay seems to be evolving into something that will be both interesting and, as yet, unwritten by other graduate students. Time will tell...
shamilton