Twelve kinds of taste
Which one are you?
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Fiction, Married people, Dentists, Murderers
It was Sunday, and, according to his custom on that day, McTeague took his dinner at two in the afternoon at the car conductors' coffee-joint on Polk Street. He had a thick gray soup; heavy, underdone meat, very hot, on a cold plate; two kinds of vegetables; and a sort of suet pudding, full of strong butter and sugar. On his way back to his office, one block above, he stopped at Joe Frenna's saloon and bought a pitcher of steam beer.
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Bleak, contemplative, spare and classical in form.
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On Open Library, 11 have read it and 26 want to.
“IT was Sunday, and, according to his custom on that day, McTeague took his dinner at two in the afternoon at the car conductors coffee-joint on Polk Street.”
Frank Norris, (1870-1902), was an American novelist and journalist and a leader of the Naturalism movement. Norris believed that a novel should serve a moral purpose. "The novel with a purpose," he explained, "brings the tragedies and griefs of others to notice" and "prove(s) that injustice, crime, and inequality do exist." [Source][1] [1]: http://www.pbs.org/wnet/americannovel/timeline/norris.html
Closest on the same fourteen dimensions, from everything scored on Taste Buds. Other media included when they land close.
