text_original: But, to whatever our dislike is due, we have it—Oh! we have it! With the possible exception of Hogarth in his non preaching pictures, and Constable in his sketches of the sky,—I speak of dead men only, —have we produced any painter of reality like Manet or Millet, any writer like Flaubert or Maupassant, like Turgenev, or Tchekov. We are, I think, too deeply civilised, so deeply civilised that we have come to look on Nature as indecent.
text_transcription: BUT TO WHATEVER OUR DISLIKE IS DUE WE HAVE IT OH WE HAVE IT WITH THE POSSIBLE EXCEPTION OF HOGARTH IN HIS NON PREACHING PICTURES AND CONSTABLE IN HIS SKETCHES OF THE SKY I SPEAK OF DEAD MEN ONLY HAVE WE PRODUCED ANY PAINTER OF REALITY LIKE MANETTE OR MILLET ANY WRITER LIKE FLAUBERT OR MOPACENT LIKE TURGEN OR TCHEHOV WE ARE I THINK TOO DEEPLY CIVILIZED SO DEEPLY CIVILIZED THAT WE HAVE COME TO LOOK ON NATURE AS INDECENT
phonemes: bˌʌt, tə wʌtˈɛvɚɹ ˌaʊɚ dɪslˈaɪk ɪz dˈuː, wiː hˈæv ɪt—ˈoʊ! wiː hˈæv ɪt! wɪððə pˈɑːsᵻbəl ɛksˈɛpʃən ʌv hˈɑːɡɑːɹθ ɪn hɪz nˈɑːn pɹˈiːtʃɪŋ pˈɪktʃɚz, ænd kˈɑːnstəbəl ɪn hɪz skˈɛtʃᵻz ʌvðə skˈaɪ,—aɪ spˈiːk ʌv dˈɛd mˈɛn ˈoʊnli, —hæv wiː pɹədˈuːst ˌɛni pˈeɪntɚɹ ʌv ɹɪˈælᵻɾi lˈaɪk mˈænɪt ɔːɹ mˈɪlɪt, ˌɛni ɹˈaɪɾɚ lˈaɪk flˈɔːbɚt ɔːɹ mˈɔːpæsənt, lˈaɪk tˈɜːdʒənˌɛv, ɔːɹ tˈiːtʃˈɛkɑːv. wiː ɑːɹ, aɪ θˈɪŋk, tˈuː dˈiːpli sˈɪvəlˌaɪzd, sˌoʊ dˈiːpli sˈɪvəlˌaɪzd ðæt wiː hæv kˈʌm tə lˈʊk ˌɔn nˈeɪtʃɚɹ æz ˌɪndˈiːsənt.