Did he really write so seriously and reach the depth of feeling for which he has been credited? Was he a poseur? Another Proust wannabe, or Fitzgerald plumbing for the reasons behind a Gatsby-like obsession; going for the posthumous ble ribbon? He was sensitive to the vicissitudes of the hard scrabble life as well as to that of privilege, but it was not in his nature to be consistent, certainly not for the length of a novel.
I believe faithful Tess had a hand in all his most acclaimed work and were it not for her contributions, we would not be sitting here talking about him. What does Carveresque mean anyway—that one has a tendency to cut away all the meat?
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