"Passage to India" by E.M. Forster is turning out to be quite good, despite the intrusive omnicient narrator. I'm not saying that sweeping novels shouldn't be told from a 3rd person omnicient point of view - I'm just saying that it would be nice to identify with a main character. Instead, Forster divvies up dialogue and interior thoughts so systematically and evenly, it's like communist prose.

Either way, Forster has a knack for the perfect emotional line at the perfect time; if anyone else tried such a thing, it would come across as schmaltz. Bravo, Mr. E.M.!