Literary notes about perusal (AI summary)
The term "perusal" in literature is often used to imply not merely the act of reading but a thoughtful, sometimes repeated, examination of a text. It can evoke a sense of pleasure and discovery, as when a reader finds joy in the very act of reading a work ([1]) or unearths new details upon multiple readings ([2]). Authors use it to convey both the physical handling of a text—as in a character examining a letter or document ([3], [4], [5])—and a metaphorical scrutiny that suggests depth and intensity in engagement ([6], [7]). In some cases, perusal is presented humorously or ironically to underscore confusion or reflection, as when comparing a bewildering text to a complex literary style ([8]). Overall, the word enriches the narrative by highlighting the intimacy and care inherent in the act of reading.
- Its perusal has given me the greatest pleasure.
— from Memoirs of General William T. Sherman — Complete by William T. Sherman - It may be read from beginning to end in a few hours; and yet after the twentieth perusal one seldom fails to remark in it something overlooked before.
— from Bacon's Essays, and Wisdom of the Ancients by Francis Bacon - Monte Cristo resumed the perusal of the letter: “‘And who only needs one thing more to make him happy.’
— from The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas and Auguste Maquet - I wrote to these letters two answers—one for my own relief, the other for Graham's perusal.
— from Villette by Charlotte Brontë - Nicholas returned to the perusal of the book he had been reading, when the dialogue had gone thus far.
— from Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens - According to him, a perusal of the Code Civil , before composition, was the best way he had found of grooming his style.
— from On Love by Stendhal - His conversation affords me no more amusement than I should derive from the perusal of a well-written book.
— from The Sorrows of Young Werther by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - ‘The present,’ he says, ‘is about as agreeable a confusion to me as Ariosto on the first perusal. . . .
— from Intentions by Oscar Wilde
