I've started reading 'The Beast in the Jungle' by Henry James. It's a 70 page novella, published in 1903, when James was 60. It's a 'meta' reading experience, the novella being about an extremely shy protagonist who can never directly reveal his secret fears, the style (presumably the 'standard' James style) being infinitely hesitant, nuanced, self-scrutinising, self-qualifying. In other words, it seems to be a story about James himself, and about why James writes as he writes.
I recognise myself in this style. My own writing, especially on here, is full of these qualifications and evasions. And I'm a shy person, crippled by self-doubt, compelled to notice by the fear of some crouching beast. I'm no Henry James, but I can relate to him.