Charmed Life and Rousseau's complete works

I read Charmed Life, Liza Campbell's story of her family living in Cawdor Castle -- Macbeth's castle. I thought it was a trashy tell-all, easily readable, and I found out at the end why. Dear old Dad disowned his own son, except for what was entailed. He was an alcoholic and a brute, and he left everything to his much younger second wife. No wonder everyone was ticked off. Astute editorship no doubt advised her to save that for last. If not, I'd have put down the book immediately.

Because of my travels and spending time at a sick relative's bedside, I read nearly all of Rousseau's works. I read his Confessions, his Reveries, essays on politics and on education, the Discours on various subjects, his plays and ballets, including the famous Narcisse. I'm now 500 pages from the end, and I was frankly enthralled, particularly by the autobiographical writings. He abandoned his five natural children to the tender mercies of the state creche, and I thought that was unpardonable. One child, OK, two children, oops, the rest was inexcusable. His poor common-law wife, who was forced to given them up. Then, by gosh, the academic uglies reared their heads. The famous Voltaire and the distinguished Diderot attacked Rousseau for those decision, dictated by a poverty they did not share, and they did so after Rousseau had a big success with Narcisse in the theater, but anonymously. To Rousseau's face, by gosh, they sympathized and worriedly inquired after his well-being to the wealthy noble patrons of the entire coterie. I was astounded -- this matter is not well known -- but I certainly recognized the scandalous pettiness. I am also sort of proud to have been able to read the novel Emile about education, a novel that is so sentimental and so maudlin that it has fallen from the hands of the most famous modern French writers, including Andre Gide. I aspire still to be a great reader, not just a writer.