The first book I read of W. Somerset Maugham was 'The Razor's edge'. I read 'Theatre' afterwards and after a good two years, I picked another of his book 'Cakes and Ale'. I noticed how Maugham has thrown a punch on the pretentious glass walls throughout in his writing. His writing style eases down beautifully in the reader's eye and his analogies fit the situations like a soft wooden door. Today morning, I was reading a few pages from 'Cakes and Ale' and on page number 157, a line struck me with its simple truth. This book deals with the diplomatic nuisance coming in play when draping an author's life with ornaments that he never aspired for. It has been a good read so far.
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