Pip, of course. And how could I have forgotted Stephen Dedalus. And to add to BT’s Gatsby and mariah’s Hemingway, the full cast of all Fitzgerald. But especially Dick Diver — poor maligned man, destroyed by his crazy wife. Snif.
The funny thing about having suffered through my mandatory James & Wharton, and my resultant loathing of so many of their characters, is that I actually like many of the novels themselves. That’s the puzzlement for me: how can I like The House of Mirth so much and still want to inflict violence on its heroine?