For all its worth, it certainly only knew about the class affair. It isn’t about the mystery. Because the copious amount of description about the situation will have made no sense otherwise.
The story begins with the death of a nephew. And it is so insignificant that I may as well be reading a book about how Lady Montfort holds her balls and galas. I’m not even kidding. The story didn’t seem to hold any weight in the real deal and focussed almost exclusively on everything else.
And it isn’t about the society. It is about pointless conversations and useless details. There comes a time for them and a time where they will simply bore the reader. I did it most of the time. To me, good historical fiction isn’t about good description.
It’s making me believe that the story was set in the place. And yet it is so relatable to me at the end of the day.
And well, this was just drowning in detail that it seemed pointless to be writing about it. There is no plot, the main plot point was handled with such caution that anyone will have thought that this book was about the ball.
Rating: 1 out of 5