Showing posts with label Henry James. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Henry James. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
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
Monday, March 7, 2011
Daisy Miller: Henry James
Ahhh, Henry James, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways... I couldn't possibly name all the things I love about James' works. Each has its own place in my heart for all different reasons. It's so hard to find writing that good anymore. And yet, I had somehow missed Daisy Miller. The young American girl for whom the book is named is one of the most alluded-to characters in fiction. On a bit of a whim I decided to pick up the slim novella that I purchased at a book sale some months back.
Henry James is a master at saying things without saying things, if you know what I mean. In Daisy Miller, James tells the short story of a young American woman who makes the acquaintance of a fellow American traveler, while in Vevey, Switzerland. The gentleman is Winterbourne who is introduced to Daisy by her young brother, Randolph. Winterbourne seems to be immediately taken with the beautiful young lady, despite his aunt. Winterbourne's aunt is one of a staple type of character in these old social commentary stories; Old, stolid, and wealthy, believing that the caste system is alive and well and ought to remain so. Winterbourne's aunt calls Daisy and her family every impoverished name in the book, thereby discouraging Winterbourne from making any advancements. And if that were the entire story, it would be a dull and predictable one without any real moral ending. However, we learn that it's not just dear old Aunty who is influencing Winterbourne, but Daisy herself. The innocent American girl turns out to be quite a flirt, balking at all the societally accepted norms regarding courtships. Daisy's brash dating habits and overt flirtatiousness give Winterbourne pause. And now I have to tell you ***SPOILER*** that Henry James rarely ends a short story with "...and they all lived happily ever after" and this one is no different. Ultimately, Daisy stays out one evening while in Rome with a charming Roman man, who makes Winterbourne a tad bit jealous. Daisy falls ill and dies before Winterbourne can make his move. She dies unmarried, and he never gets to tell her how much he loves her. Lose-lose.
This novella is fully titled Daisy Miller: A Study which is an appropriate title, no matter how you look at it. It is a study of the outgoing nature of innocent American Daisy Miller who gets herself into all kinds of trouble. She is the epitome of innocence in every description, but Daisy's actions are those of a woman loosing her wiles on every man in the vicinity. She makes for a perfect study of the American girl, caught between the stuffy, wealth-centric European society and the poor, working class American culture. I imagine my favorite ol' college English professor would have asked the obvious question--is Daisy truly innocent?
Daisy Miller may also be a study of romance. Things would have ended so differently if Winterbourne had only been a man of action. He lusted after her, but since it wasn't "proper", he attempted to court her in the traditional way. Courting Daisy seems like a waste of time. She's a fun-time kind of gal who just wants all the attention one can possibly lavish upon her. Winterbourne was either a weak man for listening to his aunt's advice, or he was a smart man who saw a flirt and chose not to engage her. Henry James doesn't give Witnerbourne any tags like "innocent", so it's hard to know what exactly we're supposed to think about him. For my two cents, I wanted him to take Daisy in his arms, tell her to stop behaving foolishly, and make her his wife. That probably says more about me than the book...
Bottom line? I still love love love Henry James. I do not, however, love these characters. I didn't find myself giving a fig about what happened to Daisy, and Winterbourne was such a milquetoast that I couldn't care about his future, either. I could write about all the things Henry James did right, but in light of this singular novel, I will simply say that I enjoyed Daisy Miller, but don't feel compelled to read it again.
Rating: $$
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