“What’s new?”
“I'm reading Jane Austen's Emma. I see the young Alicia Silverstone's face in every page, every paragraph.”
“I don’t know that one.”
“I’m not sure it’s to be taken seriously.”
“Are any of them?”
“I thought so. But I had an epiphany in the doctor’s office yesterday. Now that I’m half-way through this one, my fourth Austen, I’m convinced she’s a satirist, a wicked one.”
“So what’s wrong with that? Can’t you take her seriously if she’s satirical?”
“It’s embarrassing, though, to have only figured this out after four novels.”
“What did you put in these burgers?”
“I'm reading Jane Austen's Emma. I see the young Alicia Silverstone's face in every page, every paragraph.”
“I don’t know that one.”
“I’m not sure it’s to be taken seriously.”
“Are any of them?”
“I thought so. But I had an epiphany in the doctor’s office yesterday. Now that I’m half-way through this one, my fourth Austen, I’m convinced she’s a satirist, a wicked one.”
“So what’s wrong with that? Can’t you take her seriously if she’s satirical?”
“It’s embarrassing, though, to have only figured this out after four novels.”
“What did you put in these burgers?”
