One hundred pages in. I have often thought of Jane Austen as a bit too straitjacketed for my tastes, but you can always see--hell, you can feel--a ferocious rage at the hypocrisies and inanities and horrid behaviors of society, but coupled with a capacious compassion for all fools and foolishness. She really gets, but doesn't condemn, the horrible way people treat one another. I have often thought that, if alive in our era, Jane Austen would have kicked Kingsley Amis' ass.
Zoe Heller is without a straitjacket. This book is fierce and funny, and so open to the humanity of such bitter, bilious behavior.
So far, anyway.