I read this book twice, and watched the movie once, and I can safely say that I don't think I enjoyed this one as much as A Room with a View. Sorry Forster. I think it's because during that time and to be gay, you had to be so sexually reserved. So the book kept tugging at the heart strings, where you want Maurice to constantly be in the countryside with his college sweetheart, but what ends up happening is Maurice loses his identity and changes into a very dislikable person. 
 I want so much for it to be different. For Maurice to get Clive, and the two to not have to live a lie, but it was just impossible for the two to have a relationship such as that. How society looked at you was the utmost importance. And that whole thing with Scudder, it wasn't supposed to be. The two have nothing in common, and it seems the only concern of their relationship is sex as opposed to building a fond emotional relationship. I can't recall them ever really trying to get to know one another, so busy in the adventure of not getting caught. 
 It's so unfortunate, I feel so bad for Maurice.