So you want to start reading the classics?

Do you have a classic sitting on your shelf that's been there for two years? Maybe someone gifted you Jane Austen, or you picked up a Brontë at a charity shop with the best intentions. And every time you walk past it, there's a little whisper that says: I should really read that.

This episode is for you.

In this week's episode of The Brit Lit Book Club, I'm making the case for why British classics still matter — and more importantly, giving you everything you need to actually get into them. No English degree, no prior reading experience, no guilt required.

IN THIS EPISODE

• The case for classics: why every modern story you love is already in conversation with them
• Myth-busting: slow, boring, too hard, missed your chance — we address every excuse
• Your personality-based guide: which classic is right for YOU
• Practical strategies: annotated editions, audiobooks, reading companions, and when to quit
• The re-read phenomenon: why classics reward you differently at different life stages
• The Brit Lit Starter Pack: five books, in order of accessibility

BOOKS MENTIONED IN THIS EPISODE

*Disclosure: Links below are Amazon affiliate links. If you purchase through them, I earn a small commission at no extra cost to you — which helps keep The Brit Lit Book Club running. Thank you!

The Starter Pack — My Five Recommended Entry Points

1. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

The perfect warm-up. Short, emotional, funny, and full of Dickens at his most generous and human. Read it in an afternoon.

➜ Penguin Classics (Paperback, with other Christmas writings) →

➜ Penguin Christmas Classics (Hardcover gift edition) →

2. Persuasion by Jane Austen

Her shortest, quietest, most moving novel — and my personal favourite. A love story about second chances with one of the most beautiful letters in all of literature.

➜ Penguin Classics (Paperback) →

3. The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins

A proper Victorian thriller — multiple narrators, a sinister count, and a mystery that keeps you guessing. Highly readable and genuinely gripping.

➜ Penguin Classics (Paperback) →

4. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

One of the great feminist novels — a heroine who refuses to compromise herself for anyone. Still radical more than 175 years later.

➜ Penguin Classics (Paperback) →

5. Far from the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy

Hardy's most accessible and most beautiful novel. The Dorset countryside practically breathes on the page. Start here and you'll want to read everything he wrote.

➜ Penguin Classics (Paperback) →

Also Mentioned in This Episode

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen — Amazon →

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë — Amazon →

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Brontë — Amazon →

The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins — Amazon →

Rob Roy by Sir Walter Scott — Amazon →

Waverley by Sir Walter Scott — Amazon →

A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens — Amazon →

A Christmas Carol (also mentioned above) — Amazon →

Love this podcast? Imagine walking the Yorkshire moors where the Brontës found inspiration, visiting Jane Austen's writing desk at Chawton, and exploring Shakespeare's birthplace with fellow book lovers. We do all this and more on The Book Club Tour!

Follow along with our adventures, or join us! 

🌐 Explore our tours: thebookclubtour.com
📸 Instagram: @thebookclubtour
👥 Facebook: @thebookclubtour

Transcript

0:08

Hello, and welcome back to the Brit Lit Book Club. I'm your host, Vanessa, and today I want to have a very honest conversation with you. How many of you have a classic sitting on your nightstand right now or on your bookshelf? Maybe it was a gift or something you picked up at a charity shop with the absolute best of intentions, and it's been there for, I don't know, six months, two years. It might be staring at you right now. No judgment. I've been there, and I want to talk to you about why that happens, and more importantly, how to fix it because here's what I truly believe: the classics aren't intimidating because they're bad, they're intimidating because nobody told us the right way in. Before we dive in, let's get our tea sorted. I'm having a cup of Earl Gray today. Classic, aromatic, a little old-fashioned, and absolutely wonderful once you learn to appreciate it, which feels very appropriate for what we're about to discuss. This episode is for everyone who has ever wanted to love the classics but didn't quite know where to start. It's for the person who got three chapters into Dickens and put it down. It's for the reader who adores historical fiction and suspects the real thing might be even better. It's for the book club member who nods along when someone mentions Austen but quietly hasn't actually read her. Today, I am going to make the case for why British classics still matter. Bust the most common myths that are keeping you from them, help you figure out exactly which one is right for you, and give you some practical strategies that actually work. No English degree required. Let's get into it. I want to start by making a proper argument because I think the classics deserve one. We live in a world of absolutely brilliant contemporary fiction. There has never been a better time to be a reader. So why would I or anyone spend time on books that are a hundred, two hundred years old, written in a world that doesn't exist anymore? Here's my answer: because every story you love is a conversation with them. When you read a novel where a sharp-tongued woman outsmarts the men around her, it's Jane Austen. When a story gives you a brooding, damaged hero you can't help but root for, that's Rochester and Heathcliff. When a book makes you feel the weight of a class system pressing down on its characters, that's Dickens. The plots, the archetypes, the emotional templates. They were built in the Victorian and Regency eras, and we've been riffing on them ever since. Reading a classic isn't like going to a museum. It's more like reading the original script before you see the film adaptation. Suddenly everything else makes more sense. There's also something the classics offer that I find harder and harder to find in modern reading, depth that rewards rereading. I've read Persuasion probably two or three times, and I notice something different every single time. Not because the book changes, but because I change. At twenty, I read it as a romance. At thirty, I read it as a book about regret, and now I read it as a book about courage. Same novel, three completely different experiences. Very few contemporary books do that for me. And then there's the travel connection, which you know is very close to my heart. When you've read books, walking through the places that inspired them becomes something else entirely. Standing on the moors in Haworth or walking through the Pump Room in Bath, you're walking inside a story you already know and love. That's not just tourism. That's a kind of magic. So yes, the classics matter, and I would argue they matter more if you love to travel than almost anything else you could read. Okay, let's bust some myths. Now, let's talk about the things that are actually keeping people from picking these books up because I think most of them are myths. Myth number one: They're boring. I hear this one constantly, and I think it comes from having the wrong first experience. Often, that experience was in school as an assignment. Someone handed you Great Expectations at fifteen and said, "Read this by Friday," and graded you on it. That's not how you fall in love with a book. That's how you grow to resent one. Here’s the truth. Dickens was the prestige television of the Victorian era. His novels were serialized in monthly installments, and people were genuinely desperate for the next episode. Wilkie Collins, who wrote The Woman in White and The Moonstone, is essentially writing a thriller. Sensation fiction, they called it. There were fainting ladies and shocking plot twists and people gasping in reading rooms all over England. Boring? Not even close. Pacing is different, yes, but different isn’t bad. It’s immersive. It’s slow in the way that long conversations with a friend you’ve missed is slow. You sink in. Myth number two: you need an English degree to understand them. You do not, full stop. You need curiosity, a little patience, and that’s it. These books were written for general audiences, often quite popular, broadly read audiences. They weren’t written for academics. The academics came later. Now, there are things that help: a good annotated edition, a reading guide, a friend who’s already read it. But understanding every single reference and historical nuance on your first read isn’t the point. The point is to meet the characters. The point is to feel the story. You can Google the rest. Myth number three: I missed my chance. This one breaks my heart a little because I hear it from readers in their forties and fifties who think the classics were something they were supposed to do when they were younger, and now the window is closed. It hasn’t. The books are still there, and honestly, you will understand them better now. Austen’s wit lands differently when you’ve navigated a few social situations of your own. The Brontë sisters feel different when you’ve loved and lost something. Dickens resonates differently when you’re worried about money or watch someone struggle in a system that wasn’t built for them. The classics don’t have an expiration date. If anything, they ripen. Myth number four, the language is too hard. Sometimes, yes, the language is genuinely dense, and it takes adjustment. But often what's happening is that our brains are just calibrated for a faster, more fragmented reading rhythm. Give yourself a chapter or two to settle in, and most of the time it clicks. And if it really doesn't, there are wonderful tools, annotated editions, reading companions, audiobooks narrated by people who understand the material and make the rhythm come alive in a way that reading cold sometimes doesn't. We'll talk more about those strategies in a moment. All right, let's talk about which classics are right for you. Let's talk specifics, because I think the single biggest mistake people make is starting with the wrong book. Not every classic is the right entry point for every reader. And just because Middlemarch is considered one of the greatest novels in the English language doesn't mean it's the right first step for you. So I want to help you find your door in. If you love romance and sharp social observation, start with Jane Austen. But choose wisely. If you want something light and funny with a perfect comedic structure, Pride and Prejudice is your book. If you want something quieter and more emotionally profound, I'd actually point you to Persuasion. It's shorter and warmer, and it has one of the most devastating love letters ever committed to paper. If you love Gothic atmosphere and emotional intensity, the Brontes are calling you. If you want something wild and operatic, Wuthering Heights. If you want something more grounded and empowering, Jane Eyre. If you want something genuinely underrated and surprisingly modern, Anne Brontes, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, which tackles domestic abuse and female independence in ways that feel startlingly contemporary. If you love mysteries and page-turning plots, Wilkie Collins is your answer. The Woman in White reads like a Victorian thriller. The Moonstone is widely considered the first detective novel in the English language. Both are genuinely compelling, beautifully plotted, and much more readable than people expect. If you love social satire and sprawling character-rich stories, this is where Dickens shines. But don't start with great expectations if it already has baggage for you from school. Try A Tale of Two Cities for something more propulsive, or my personal recommendation for Dickens newcomers, A Christmas Carol, which is short, emotional, and an absolutely perfect introduction to what he does best. If you love Scotland, history, or the world that inspired Outlander, go to Sir Walter Scott, specifically Rob Roy or Waverley. These are novels that romanticize the Scottish Highlands. invented the Jacobite mythology, and built the world Diana Gabaldon has been writing inside for 40 years. If you've ever loved Jamie Fraser, you owe Scott a thank you. If you love nature writing, place, and quiet observation, Thomas Hardy. Far From the Madding Crowd is his most accessible and one of the most beautiful novels. The Dorset countryside particularly breathes on the page. Okay, let's talk about some strategies that actually work. Now the practical bit, because wanting to read the classics and actually getting through them are two different things, and I want you to finish the book. Strategy one: choose your edition carefully. An annotated edition can be the difference between confusion and delight. The footnotes don't interrupt the story, they add to it. You suddenly understand a joke that would have sailed right over your head, or a reference that unlocks a whole layer of meaning. The Penguin Classics edition are generally excellent. Oxford World Classics are wonderful as well. For Austen specifically, the Broadview editions have superb editorial notes, and I'll link those in the show notes for you. Strategy two: try an audiobook first. I know some readers have complicated feelings about whether audiobooks count. They count, full stop. And for the classics especially, a great narrator transforms the experience. The rhythm of Victorian prose was designed to be heard. These books were read aloud in parlors and serialized in magazines. A narrator who understands the material can carry you through passages that might trip you up on a page, and suddenly the whole thing opens up. Some of my favorite classic audiobook narrators are Juliet Stevenson for Austen, David Timson for Dickens, and Madeleine Brent for Hardy. There are also some great celebrity narrators out there for classics. Strategy three: use a reading companion without shame. SparkNotes exists. Cliff Notes exist. There are dozens of wonderful podcasts, YouTube channels, and reading guides. Using them isn't cheating. Reading a quick plot summary before a chapter so you can focus on the language rather than frantically following the action. That's intelligent reading. Scholars do it all the time. Strategy four, find a reading buddy or a book club. Everything is easier with someone to discuss it with. A reading buddy who's also a classic newcomer is wonderful. You can puzzle through it together. A book club that reads one classic per year alongside contemporary fiction can ease you into it gradually. Even just telling someone, "I'm reading Wuthering Heights this month," creates a small accountability structure that helps. Strategy five, give yourself permission to quit. This one might surprise you, but I mean it sincerely. If you are eighty pages into a classic and it genuinely isn't working, not just slow, but genuinely unpleasant, put it down. Read something else. Try a different entry point. The goal is to fall in love with the tradition, not to punish yourself. There's no prize for finishing a book you hate, and there is every reward in the world for finding one that finally clicks. Let's talk about the rereading phenomenon. I want to take a moment to talk about something I think is genuinely underappreciated, which is rereading. If you've ever read a classic and found it fine but not extraordinary, I want to make a gentle argument for coming back to it. Because one of the things that separates the classics from a lot of contemporary fiction is that they reward rereading in a way that almost nothing else does. Just like what I was talking about with Persuasion earlier, part of what the classics do is hold up a mirror that adjusts as you age. The same text, but a different reflection every time you look. That's not a quality you can manufacture. It comes from depth, from characters and situations That are true enough to resonate differently at different life stages. So if you read something and it didn't grab you the first time, note that. Maybe it wasn't the wrong book. Maybe it was the wrong moment. Come back to it in five years and see what you find. All right. Let's talk about your classic starter pack. Before we go, I want to give you something concrete. Here is my British classic starter pack. Five books in order of accessibility that I would recommend to any reader who is new to the tradition. One, A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. Short, emotionally devastating, full of Dickens at his most humane and funny. You can read it in an afternoon. It's the perfect warm-up. Two, Persuasion by Jane Austen. Her shortest, quietest, most moving novel. A love story about second chances that is also somehow a masterclass in restraint and longing. Three, The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. A proper thriller, multiple narrators, a sinister count, a mystery that keeps you guessing and prose that moves. An absolute pleasure. Four, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. One of the greatest feminist novels, even if the Victorians didn't know to call it that. A heroine who refuses to compromise herself for anyone. Five, Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy. Four people, a farm in Dorset, and one of the most beautifully written explorations of love and independence in the language. Start here and you'll want to read everything he wrote. All five of these are linked in the show notes, including the editions I recommend, so you can find them easily. My grandma had a large bookshelf in her home that had been there for as long as I could remember. Battered paperback Brontes, a green hardback of Scott, an Austen with a spine taped. I used to look at them as a child and wonder if they were hard, if they were for grownups, if I'd ever be ready for them. What nobody told me then, and what I want to tell you now, is that there's no threshold to cross. You don't have to earn the classics. You don't have to be smart enough or patient enough or literary enough. You just have to find your door in and give yourself a cup of tea and an unhurried afternoon and begin. The right classic read at the right time with the right cup of tea, there's genuinely nothing like it. It's why I do what I do. It's why I lead tours through the landscapes that inspired these books. Because when you've read them, the whole world opens up. Bath isn't just a beautiful Georgian city, it's Austen's city. Haworth isn't just a village in Yorkshire, it's the Brontes' village. And walking through those places with the book you love in your heart is one of the singular pleasures of being a reader.