I'm not sure I've ever been disappointed by a work of classic literature. I never begin by expecting them astound me, because I know that styles have changed so much over the years that I'm not necessarily going to appreciate the classics in the same way as people have in the past. I don't much like Shakespeare, for example, which apparently made me a nutter amongst English students.

I have, however, been struck the other way. One of the books I studied at Uni (Victorian Lit paper) was called The Story of an African Farm. Sounds utterly boring, and I'd never heard of it, so I put off reading it for ages. And then, when I read it, it was great. I really enjoyed it.

I think that was my strongest lesson in reading books, and it's stuck with me, so I don't prejudge or make assumptions about books anymore.