A spongy cresson sandwich

First part was cold, bitter, spongy and tedious, final part is one of the worst misogynistic betrayal of literature (I found It hard to lay my eyes on those pages). So the bread is really shitty. Add to this some chauvinistic Yorkshire-pride-irish-hating sour crisps. Seems like a pretty horrible pique-nique, but in the middle, surprise surprise, awaits Poetry in splendor, the two heroines meeting lays a bridge to an "inner book" (I mean a story in the story but more poetical). This inner/midd book is very interesting, beautiful, striking and fun. But It is hard won and then the author herself totally scavenge It.

Would you bite into this?

I did.

I still don't know if I am sorry or glad about this.