I’m taking a class that’s all about E. M. Forster (British 20th-century fiction writer). Forster is particularly good at mocking British tourists who tour the Continent for “education,” “culture,” “to see the art,” “adventure,” “in hopes of romance with a native,” etc. During his time this was a huge industry, particularly with wealthy young women. When Forster himself went, he was accompanied by his mother (not much chance of him running off to Paris for sin and decadence). Knowing this about his history, it’s not particularly surprising that in a draft of one of his books he has his heroine note:
“It was for this she had given up her home, made elaborate preparations, crossed the channel in a gale, had endless railway journeys and four customs examinations–that she might sit with a party of English ladies who seemed even duller than ladies in England.”
Erin
Alan Schmierer