victorian challenge update & eating insects

A month ago, I was at 18 books:

01. The Warden by Anthony Trollope (1855)

02. A Chaplet of Verses by Adelaide Anne Procter (1862)

03. Songs of Consolation by Isa Craig-Knox (1874)

04. A Ballad of the Road and Other Poems by May Probyn (1883)

05. Across the Sea and Other Poems by Thomas S. Chard (1875)

06. Erectheus by Algernon Charles Swinburne (1876)

07. Social Life by Maud C. Cooke (1896)

08. Poems by Marietta Holley (1887)

09. The Physical Life of Woman by George H. Napheys (1878)

10. The New Ladies’ Tickler by Anonymous (1866)

11. The Romance of Violette by Anonymous (1891)

12. Laura Middleton by Anonymous (1890)

13. Poems by James McIntyre (1889)

14. Selected Writings by Walter Pater (d. 1894)

15. Liza of Lambeth by W. Somerset Maugham (1897)

16. Desperate Remedies by Thomas Hardy (1871)

17. Life’s Little Ironies by Thomas Hardy (1894)

18. Culture and Anarchy by Matthew Arnold (1869)

And a very slow month of additions so far:

19. Diana of the Crossways by George Meredith (1885)

20. Selected Poems by William Morris (d. 1896)

21. Poems by Walter Savage Landor (d. 1864)

22. Selected Poems by John Greenleaf Whittier (d. 1892)

23. Why Not Eat Insects? by Vincent M. Holt (1885)

I suppose one could count the poems of Walter Savage Landor, since he lived and wrote until 1864, though I usually just lump him in with the Romantics for stylistic, thematic, and date-related reasons (he was born in 1775).

And, despite that I read a whole book about it, I do not want to eat insects. Like Mr. Holt says, the well-to-do have the luxury of eating well and eating what they please, and I will not stoop to pick caterpillars out of my garden and eat them raw. Seriously, anything I have to de-leg, de-wing, or shave before eating IS NOT FOOD, especially if it has a mealy, crunchy, and/or hairy texture. Just... no, unless it were a life or death situation. Holt does make a point about the poor having their diets enriched by insect protein in addition to the nutrients from the standard nineteenth-century poor-people fare of bread and bacon, but nowadays rubbish food is so cheap and available that who, in a civilised nation, at least, would willingly eat moths instead of Burger King and microwaveable meals?

If you want to eat insects, though, Mr. Holt has conveniently provided us all with some sample dinner menus, featuring delicacies such as phalènes au parmesan (moths on toast) and crème de groseilles aux nemates (gooseberry cream with sawflies). Bon appétit, mes amis, et j'espère que vous ne tombez pas malades.