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So tender and intimate; I almost felt like I was intruding in on the characters. Where authors like Wilde and Waugh skirt around the subject, Forster presents a firm, bitter condemnation of English homophobia. I'm astonished that Forster wrote about the subject so bluntly and with so much vision in 1913, especially considering he completed it at a time when Maurice and Alec's love was law-defying. I guess it's because above all else, Maurice is clearly a very personal story.

There might not be much going on between the lines—but the fact that Forster refused to write a bleak ending, just so there was at least one story in the world where gay lovers could be happy, even if it was unrealistic, is social commentary enough for me. Long live the Unspeakable Vice of the Greeks.