...
Such is the inward conflict which forms the subject of _The Dangerous
Age_. It must be conceded that it lacks neither greatness nor human
interest.
* * * * *
I wish to add a few lines in order to record here an impression which I
experienced while reading the very first pages of _The Dangerous Age_;
an impression that became deeper and clearer when I had closed the book.
_The Dangerous Age_ is one of those rare novels by a woman in which the
writer has not troubled to think from a man's point of view. I lay
stress upon this peculiarity because it is _very rare_, especially among
the contemporary works of Frenchwomen.
The majority of our French authoresses give us novels in which their
ambition to think, to construct and to write in a masculine style is
clearly perceptible. And nothing, I imagine, gives them greater pleasure
than when, thanks to their pseudonyms, their readers actually take them
for men writers.
Therefore all this mass of feminine literature in France, with three or
four exceptions--all this mass of literature of which I am far from
denying the merits--has really told us nothing new about the soul of
woman.
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