old school lit

on occasion i will read a book or poem pre-20th century,
but often times i find their style to be bland, 
droning on and on, despite knowing that their language is quite beautiful,
though for some reason i can’t help but think that writers before the 1950’s
weren’t all that honest,
but maybe i’m just being paranoid because the disembodied head of shakespeare
lied to me as a child