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Just finished a re-re-re... I don't know how many times, re-read of Edith Wharton's The Age of Innocence, this time accompanied by a re-watch of Martin Scorsese's brilliant (literally and figuratively) movie adaptation with narration by Joanne Woodward. This book has always been "comfort food" for me - one I returned to when I hit reading slumps, reading burn-out, etc. I think Wharton hit her stylistic zenith in this novel, and I imagine her chuckling at her writing desk as she impaled the mores of New York society.
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