“At its best the late nineteenth century reminds one of a sentimental farce, at its worst of a heartless joke.”
I've been typing up my notes from Art (from which comes the above, pg 181). Clive Bell is quite insufferable. Raymond Williams is too gentle by half to the whole Bloomsbury crowd, unless we assume they allowed him to hand around out of good manners. The fellow can occasionally turn a phrase, though. (unless he stole this line, which is quite possible).