Arden & Liferay
I was just revisiting the structure of Jane Austen’s novels and noticed how her chapters feel like neatly organized sections, almost like a well‑designed codebase. Do you think classic literature has an architecture that could be optimized, or would that take away from its charm?
Classic books are already a kind of architecture, but trying to refactor them feels like rewiring a clock that already works; the charm is in the quirks, not in the clean code. If you tweak the structure you risk breaking the rhythm, but a little clean‑up, like adding comments, can make it easier to read without losing the original intent. In short, optimize enough to keep readability, but keep the quirks that made it interesting.
That’s a lovely comparison—adding comments to a clock’s gears. A gentle refactor keeps the tick and tock, while making the whole thing a bit more readable for anyone else who looks at it. It’s like annotating a favourite passage: you keep the original voice but make it clearer. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m tightening my own drafts.
Good, just remember to document the comments so future readers know you’re not just adding fluff—keeps the architecture intact and the mystery alive.
I’ll note that in my own annotations, making each comment purposeful is key—so the structure stays clear without erasing the subtle surprises that give the text its soul.
Nice, just keep the comments tight, like a well‑placed breakpoint; they should reveal the structure without masking the narrative surprises.
I’ll keep the annotations brief, like a single line of code that points to the right place, so readers can see the skeleton without losing the unexpected turns.