Washington Square: Henry James

As a long standing fan of Henry James, I picked up Washington Square expecting the Henry James version of Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility. Summarized as the tale of docile Catherine Sloper, the daughter of well-to-do Dr. Sloper, Washington Square is a study in "the moral consequences of the callous exploitation of trust and the ruthless manipulation of a tender heart." Moral consequences! Callous exploitation! Ruthless manipulation! AND a tender heart? Sign me up! What I found instead, was a challenging read about a lifestyle so far removed from my own that I struggled to choke it down.

To begin with, try to keep in mind that Washington Square takes place in the 1840's New York. An era when roads were still traversed by carriage, but the electric lamp was on the verge of appearance. Things were changing in many ways, but there were still only a handful of options for a young woman: get married, become a wealthy spinster, or be a governess or house maid. I am generally able to acclimate to this idea fairly quickly, however the harder pill to swallow is the idea that a young woman's worth is based first in her appearance, then in her wealth, and only lastly in her personality. Catherine Sloper is the young, marrying aged daughter of Dr. Sloper, who describes his daughter as one might a dog. She is not clever, but she is very "good", which is fortunate because she is so uncomely. She is loyal, which will favor her in marriage to whomever will settle on her. "Dr. Sloper would have liked to be proud of his daughter; but there was nothing to be proud of in dear Catherine." (7) Catherine is spoken of in such terms that offend me on her behalf! I can only assume that this characterization of the young woman from her own father's mouth is meant to illustrate either her extensive shortcomings, or his attitude of negativity. I am prone to believe in the latter, but here's the draw... this story has no resolution.

It's a short and simple story that goes like this. Catherine meets a man named Morris Townsend. Morris is said to have no money as he lost all of his own on a wild lifestyle of gambling and women. Morris sets his eye on Catherine, which arises suspicion in her father. After all, she is a plain girl, without cleverness. Why on Earth would an attractive play boy like Morris take interest? Obviously it has to do with all of her money. She already receives an annual stipend from her deceased mother's estate, and upon his death, Catherine will inherit the vast majority of Dr. Sloper's fortune. The good doctor takes it upon himself to warn his beloved, loyal daughter of the dangers that come with being courted by someone like Morris. He will woo her for her money, only to spend all of it and leave her destitute, at which point, having no moral fiber at all, Morris will leave poor, dumb Catherine in the gutter. Thinking to outwit the young man, Dr. Sloper forbids Catherine to marry Morris, on penalty of losing her inheritance. Believing that Morris will lose all interest in his daughter once she has been cut off from her impending wealth, Dr. Sloper refuses to bend despite Catherine's emotional pleas to accept her undying love for Morris Townsend. The young woman finds herself torn between her heart and filial obligations. She has spent these years sheltered in the care of her father, who now threatens to remove that care should she marry Morris Townsend, who seems hesitant to make her any promises for the future. To further complicate things, Catherine's meddlesome aunt Lavinia finds the idea of an elopement terribly romantic, and is constantly intruding on the couple, encouraging them first to wait out Dr. Sloper, and when that doesn't work, to rush out and marry in secret. When it becomes obvious that Dr. Sloper will never relent, Morris breaks the engagement. Because he doesn't want to interfere with the loving relationship of father and daughter, as he says? Or because he doesn't want to be the cause of her unhappiness? Or, as Dr. Sloper suspects, because he has no interest in a woman without a fortune. I won't spoil the ending for you, but I can say that there is no happily ever after. For anyone. No one is really satisfied, and our omniscient narrator doesn't provide us with any black and white truths to indicate Morris' motivations.

I can say without a doubt that this is my least favorite Henry James novel. As a debate in morals, I suppose this might be an excellent text to study. Who is the most moral character? Who is the most virtuous? My inclination is of course to tout the honors of Catherine who bravely faces first her father, and then Morris, prepared to do whatever is asked, to take any punishment, in favor of being true to her heart. On the other hand, it is Dr. Sloper who sticks, inflexibly, to his position. We may assume that seeing his daughter broken-hearted would be painful for him, but he refuses to budge, and goes to his grave refusing to honor Catherine with her inheritance. However, I have to wonder just how much he loves his good and loyal daughter, considering the way he speaks about her, and then treats her. Regardless, I think it's fair to say that Morris has little moral fiber. If we are to believe that he takes leave of Catherine for the sake of her relationship with her father, then I suppose he is to be considered honorable. However, if his love was as pure as he says it is, I can't imagine that a little thing like disinheritance would drive him away.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is, I didn't much care for it. And I apparently have a really hard time with books that don't end with obvious resolutions.

Rating: $.5

Rebecca: Daphne du Maurier

I first came upon du Maurier's Rebecca in a fellow book blog, despite it's standing as the classic that established du Maurier as one of the most popular writers of her time. But frankly, the story didn't capture me. An unnamed young woman, working as a companion to a stodgy old lady in Monte Carlo, encounters a handsome, wealthy, intriguing (read tall, dark, and handsome) gentleman whom she falls in love with. They get married, they honeymoon, and then they settle in at Mr. de Winter's home, Manderley. Side note, I simply love an estate with a name! Ah Manderley, where the head of housekeeping, Mrs. Danvers, still holds a flame for the late Mrs. de Winter, and where our young narrator believes her tall, dark, and handsome husband to regret their union due to an undying love for his deceased first wife. Sounds kind of, dare I say, dull? I now know that's because I was never introduced to Rebecca as a mystery. What sounds like a somewhat uninteresting tale of romance, is in fact an emotional roller coaster.

To begin with, du Maurier starts at the end. One of the most famous first lines ever written, "Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again," takes place after the last page of the book. The trick is that by the time you get to the last page, you have been on such a journey with these multi-dimensional characters that you have forgotten how the story began. Which I suppose is a real testament to the meticulous story-telling of du Maurier. Her characters don't fall in love, they share quiet moments that bond them together. The narrator isn't just a young companion to a stodgy old lady, she is an incongruously naive girl who has traveled at the side of her employer. The staff at Manderley aren't just background housestaff, they are characters with motivations and emotions of their own that are described by their dialogue and their actions. To say that du Maurier has written a fine novel is an understatement. What she has really accomplished is the creation of an entire world that stands on it's own, and she has done so with a murderer amongst her cast!

I admit it takes a bit of time to become fully involved with Rebecca, but isn't that the way with real people? Humans are apt to share bits and pieces of themselves with us in small manageable chunks. So it is with Rebecca; we are slowly introduced to our cast as well as the Manderley estate. The many secrets are parceled out like rations so as not to spoil the mystery all at once. This isn't one of those mystery novels where you get an intuition from the very beginning about "whodunnit". Instead, the reader learns tidbits of information as our narrator does, never knowing more than the young Mrs. de Winter.

Simply stated, this book isn't for everyone. It's a classic mystery with a touch (maybe more like a handful?) of the Gothic tale. It's not action packed, and the murder is over and done with by the time we pick up the book. It is, however, an intriguing little mystery with twists and turns and a very fine line between good guys and bad guys.

Rating: $$.5

Persuasion: Jane Austen

Persuasion is like a tween movie. Very little happens, and what little action the book does contain, is reserved to longing sideways glances and bated breath. Someone takes a bad fall. Some folks fall in love. In the typical Victorian ways, many people go calling on other people. One gentleman is exposed as a cad. In the end, they all live happily ever after. It's not a complicated plot, and it's certainly not unique. It is, however, like every Austen novel I've read, simply charming.

Anne Elliot is an old maid. She's 27 years old and unmarried. She may as well be dead (I can relate!). What makes her situation so much worse is that she had a suitor in her younger years, but was persuaded to forego the attachment because of Mister Frederick Wentworth's lower standing. The poor girl is now alone and heart-crushed, watching as her friends and sisters marry (I can relate!). Then things take an interesting turn when, down on his luck, Anne's father, Sir Walter, must rent out their estate at Kellynch because they have fallen so far in debt. And wonder of wonders, who should be the new renters, but The Crofts--sister and brother-in-law of the newly Captained Frederick Wentworth! Now that Wentworth is a Captain, he is welcomed into the neighborhood and the two sisters of Anne's brother-in-law, Louisa and Henrietta, begin vying for his attention, hoping to make a fortuitous match. A chain of events follows that ultimately shows Captain Wentworth that he never stopped loving Anne--who, of course, has never stopped loving Wentworth. There is a bit of manipulation in which William Elliot--Anne's cousin--makes a few overtures in her direction, but she sees through him, and has no trouble shutting him down. And they all live happily ever after.

Maybe I've been blind to it before, but I have never heard Austen write with such sexism before. I felt like throwing the book across the room on multiple occasions. While Anne is a lovely character, she is so stifled. She is surrounded by people, all telling her what to do, who to marry, what to think. And she does it! The insipid characters of Louisa and Henrietta are no better. Anne's elder sister, Elizabeth is a pushy broad, and the younger sister, Mary, is a hypochondriac. The only female character I can respect is Lady Russell, who also happens to be the woman who persuaded Anne not to marry Wentworth. Where are the Elizabeth Bennets? The Emmas? Austen, you have failed me with this one.

Aside from the characters, the plot was just too played out for me. There is so little romance in this romance novel, that I lost interest multiple times. Of course Miss Austen regales us with plenty of sweeping landscapes and rich tapestries of conversation, but there's very little to get excited about. The biggest event in Persuasion comes when a young lady takes a fall and gains a concussion.

An interesting tidbit about this novel; Jane Austen once played the role of Lady Russell in the life of her own niece. It is commonly believed that Jane Austen later regretted having such an influence over her niece, wishing instead that the young lady had made her own decision. This, her last completed novel, examines the many ways in which we can be persuaded, and how we may be effected. It is with my dearest wishes that I choose believe that Jane Austen wrote a novel full of weakly women as an illustration of what kind of person can be so easily swayed. Surely it is a farce--an encouragement to women everywhere to avoid being an Anne by making their own decisions and choosing happiness before it's too late.

Rating: $$

The Awakening: Kate Chopin

The Awakening is a touchstone in feminist literature. Chopin was a fantastic writer who was shocked at the reception of this novel, so much so that she stopped publishing. It is the novel of a woman who questions traditional gender rules and commits herself to doing as she likes.
When it was published in 1899, such an idea was appalling to the general public. The Awakening was pulled from the presses and it was banned until after Chopin's death. She was devastated.


Edna is a gentlewoman of twenty-eight years, married with two children. As is custom, she spends her summers at a lovely resort, socializing with other gentlewomen. It is at the resort that she meets Robert, a handsome, doting young man who spends every waking moment catering to Edna's every desire. Edna takes his admiration for granted, thinking nothing of his puppy love. It takes nearly the entire story for Edna to admit to herself that she returns Robert's love--which is socially unacceptable considering her marriage.


This novel has long stood as a standard for the women's movement. Edna is an example of the overly pampered housewife who grows bored with her situation and begins to question her role in life. She takes baby steps towards her liberation; small, seemingly insignificant thought processes that turn Edna into a woman shirking her traditional role and expectations.


I had a really hard time with this novel. There were so many problems with this story. For one thing, I had to overcome the archaic language that includes words like "darkies" and "quadroon". I had to overcome my personal beliefs about the ridiculousness of a housewife requiring the assistance of a nanny (what does a woman do who doesn't work, doesn't clean house, nor does she care for her children?). I then had to overcome the outdated traditions of "calling hours" and making excuses for not being available for said visiting hours. All those things aside, the novel could conceivably take place today. Here is a woman who has bought into the role of wife and mother, who has replaced her own identity with that of wife and mother, who becomes frustrated and begins to question those roles.


I am personally a proponent of questioning societal norms, and I firmly believe that marriage does NOT make a woman the property of her husband. Unfortunately, because of the era, this novel moves slowly and negates much of the process of self discovery through excuses from the husband. Rather than feeling like a cheerleader for Edna, I felt aggravated, anxious for her to stand up and take her life into her own hands with some real Umph!

Watership Down: Richard Adams

Watership Down is another one of those books on my "must read" list. It is often alluded to, and even shows up on many canon lists. I expected to pick up a piece of epic literature; a novel that would change my view of the world, or at least make me think about it.

Obviously, I was unaware that it was about rabbits.

This is not a novel about a sinking ship. It is, in some ways, a novel about war, but mostly, it's a novel about rabbits. Hazel, Fiver, Bigwig, and all of the other rabbits are in hot pursuit of freedom. The novel is broken into four parts relative to the various parts of their journey. The rabbits leave their home warren to find a new home where they are free to be wild rabbits. Then comes the segment where they must intrude on a neighboring warren to steal away some females so as to propogate. There, they run into some trouble and it becomes a bit of a war story. But have no fear, there is a happy ending. Because after all, this is a children's story.

Yes, you read that right--it's a children's story. Richard Adams wrote this novel much like Rowling wrote Harry Potter--as bedtime stories for his kids. As a lit person, I have been well trained to look for the allegory in every story. I look for hidden meaning in subtle symbols. About halfway through Watership Down I found myself floudering, unable to explain what the story was really about. So I did some research and found an interview with Adams in which he explains that the book was comprised of just a bunch of stories he told to his kids. He did mention that he may have woven stories of his own military experience into the story. But ultimately, it was just stories for his little girls.

The book has never been out of publication, and has been made into a movie (a cartoon). Would I recommend it? Sure--read it to your kids!