“The river – with the sunlight flashing from its dancing wavelets, gilding gold the grey-green beech-trunks, glinting through the dark, cool wood paths, chasing shadows o’er the shallows, flinging diamonds from the mill-wheels, throwing kisses to the lilies, wantoning with the weirs’ white waters, silvering moss-grown walls and bridges, brightening every tiny townlet, making sweet each lane and meadow, lying tangled in the rushes, peeping, laughing, from each inlet, gleaming gay on many a far sail, making soft the air with glory – is a golden fairy stream.”
Having delved into some of the worst excesses of the era, I was slightly wary of the light upper-middle-class whimsy of Three Men In A Boat. Who were these jolly toffs larking around on the river when the masses were living in such misery? and so on. But of course I warmed to it right away, the whimsy being undercut by passages of palpable awe at the natural world, and the jokes still funny (or if not actually ROFL, their humour was at least not lost in the mists of time.)
Not sure I would actually rate it as great literature, but it’s at least a good read.