Review:
“In the old New York of the ‘fifties a few families ruled, in simplicity and affluence. Of these were the Ralstons. The sturdy English and the rubicund and heavier Dutch had mingled to produce a prosperous, prudent and yet lavish society. To “do things handsomely” had always been a fundamental principle in this cautious world, built up on the fortunes of bankers, India merchants, ship-builders and ship-chandlers. Those well-fed slow-moving people, who seemed irritable and dyspeptic to European eyes only because the caprices of the climate had stripped them of superfluous flesh, and strung their nerves a little tighter, lived in a genteel monotony of which the surface was never stirred by the dumb dramas now and then enacted underground. Sensitive souls in those days were like muted key-boards, on which Fate played without a sound. In this compact society, built of solidly welded blocks, one of the largest areas was filled by the Ralstons and their ramifications. The Ralstons were of middle-class English stock. They had not come to the Colonies to die for a creed but to live for a bank-account. The result had been beyond their hopes, and their religion was tinged by their success.”
It with this short novella that I dip my toes into the world of Edith Wharton for the first time. I’ve seen so much praise of the work – and from trusted friends and reviewers – that I just had to find out for myself what I’m missing out.
What has held me back from picking up Wharton’s work so far are really two things:
For one, I have always associated her writing with that of Henry James, which is not helped by an article in the Guardian I read a few years ago about the two of them – Wharton and James – on a road trip in England. This is, of course, hugely unfair towards Wharton, but sometimes that is how associations of the mind work. There is nothing for it but to go investigate and see if there is some truth to it. I just hadn’t gotten around to that, yet.
The second reason, is that I have always thought of Wharton as a kind of Edwardian author, in the same way that E.M. Forster was. But as I love Forster, his works are normally what I turn to for a fix of Edwardian drama.
Again, misconception is at work here. They may have written in the same time, but not about the same time … or place.
Anyway, time to put things right with Edith Wharton – not that I think she’d care… but I do, not least because I don’t like having pre-conceived ideas that aren’t founded on any actual research.
The Old Maid is the second of four novellas in Wharton’s “Old New York” series, which features stories set in New York, one in each decade of the 1840s, 50s, 60s, and 70s.
The Old Maid is set in the 50’s and tells the story of two cousins – Delia and Charlotte, one who marries well and one who has a child out of wedlock. After several turns of fate, the cousins both end up bringing up the child, one as mother and one as aunt, but with a reversal of titles that sparks some resentment, misunderstanding, pretence of right, and other high drama until the end of the story.
Without giving too much away, I really enjoyed how candid Wharton describes the circumstances of the family arrangement, how clearly she brings up how much misery is caused by a society that is so set on the illusion of propriety at all costs, and how unhealthy it for grudges to fester.
I had no expectation of it, but the story of the cousins – neither of whom was a perfect human being – really drew me in. Wharton’s writing was clear, concise, yet full of emotion, sensitivity, and even wit.
The only aspect that I did not quite find convincing was that did not get a sense of place or time from the story. I just could not say what makes this the a story of “The ‘Fifties” as the subtitle proclaims.
I look forward to finding out if Wharton’s other stories are similarly engaging.
As the truth stole upon Delia her heart melted with the old compassion for Charlotte. She saw that it was a terrible, a sacrilegious thing to interfere with another’s destiny, to lay the tenderest touch upon any human being’s right to love and suffer after his own fashion.
Original post:
BrokenTune.booklikes.com/post/1664869/the-old-maid
Wow, I need to get this collection! Should I take it that you’re not a James fan? I’ve only read The Portrait of a Lady so far, and while I didn’t dislike it throughout, the ending disappointed me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I do like a bit of flowery languid language but what I need more than that is for an author to, eventually, get to the point. And James just never did that for me. Of course, my reading of Potrait of a Lady may have had some unfortunate timing as I read that after another book I really hated (it was one of the Joyces so either Ulysses or Portrait of the Artist) so having another author who just went on and on and on did nothing to help his cause.
I also tried The Turn of the Screw at some point and found it really tiresome.
So, I’d say, James is not for me. I’m happy to read more of Wharton’s work, tho.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s funny that you say that because The Portrait of the Young Man as an Artist is the only classic I couldn’t make it through since I’ve been blogging about classics. I still wasn’t hooked halfway through the book, but after reading ten pages of a hell, fire, and brimstone sermon, I officially said “nope, I’m done.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
I unfortunately finished it. And for the dumbest of reasons. But hey, I was an impressionable teen. I have had some loathing for the book ever since. I really enjoyed Joyce’s short stories, tho. Have you come across them?
LikeLike
Sounds like a promising start to me. Busting through misconception is always interesting. I’m glad you enjoyed this first encounter. Looking forward to seeing where the journey takes you from here.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ll probably read the other novellas in this series. Apparently, they kinda lead into the world of The Age of Innocence – including some cross-overs with recurring characters.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That sounds right. May be a better way to play it, though the novel most definitely stands alone. I’ve read the first of those novellas, so I want to read the others, and I will probably reread Age of Innocence again at some point just because I can.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Just because you can. That is the best of reasons!
I’m in no rush to read the other stories, but I am looking forward to fitting them in between other books. They are short enough to do this and I’d say are the perfect length for train journeys or commuting. 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good deal. These are not stories to be rushed. Wharton should be savored, I think.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think so, too. I bought the Delphi collection of her complete works for kindle – they seem to do a good job at compiling complete works of authors and arrange for decent indexing – so her books are in my library for whenever the next opportunity arises. 🙂
Sadly, I cannot see the New York stories on Librivox (but The Age of Innocence is available from there). My library has the books also, but not in audio format.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love those Delphi collections. Who would have thought to get an author’s complete works for a couple of bucks?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Exactly! And I know that the stories are pretty much in the public domain, but there is some effort that goes into compiling them. The Delphi version of the collected works of Jules Verne also has editorial comments that are very helpful. They also included the French texts for all the works that had never been translated.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I highly recommend the ones for artists as well, assuming you have a screen large enough to appreciate the art. Complete bios, the history of the works, details panels… people went to some effort for these.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oooh, that is really good to know. I had not looked at any of those!
I did get a couple of the ancient classics, tho – the Cicero one has the original Latin and the English translation, and the Herodotus has three parts English, Greek, and side-by-side English/Greek.
Now, I can’t read Greek, but if I could, or if I was studying it, the side by side part would be perfect.
I really love their editions.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Original Latin? Oh, that’s just cool. I’d be tempted to try to learn it just on account now.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I should add, if I had any head for Greek, I’d totally try for that too, but even Latin is likely beyond my grasp. I’m terrible at linguistics. lol
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’d even struggle with the letters in Greek…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Exactly. They were intimidating enough in math class.
LikeLiked by 1 person