Monday, April 29, 2024

The House of Mirth: Jennifer Egan on Edith Whartons masterpiece Fiction

the house of mirth

He was already annoyed with himself forhaving left Monte Carlo, where he had intended to pass the week whichremained to him before sailing; but it would now be difficult to returnon his steps without an appearance of inconsistency from which his priderecoiled. In his inmost heart he was not sorry to put himself beyond theprobability of meeting Miss Bart. Completely as he had detached himselffrom her, he could not yet regard her merely as a social instance; andviewed in a more personal ways she was not likely to be a reassuringobject of study. Fisher’s conversation had, indeed, operated to that end; but thetreatment was too painful to be voluntarily chosen while milder remedieswere untried; and Selden thought he could trust himself to returngradually to a reasonable view of Miss Bart, if only he did not see her.

Brief Biography of Edith Wharton

Moral complications existedfor her only in the environment that had produced them; she did not meanto slight or ignore them, but they lost their reality when they changedtheir background. The conclusions it led him to were fortified, later in the evening, bysome of those faint corroborative hints that generate a light of theirown in the dusk of a doubting mind. Selden, stumbling on a chanceacquaintance, had dined with him, and adjourned, still in his company, tothe brightly lit Promenade, where a line of crowded stands commanded theglittering darkness of the waters.

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Mrs. Peniston hadvehemently opposed her niece’s departure with the Dorsets, and had markedher continued disapproval by not writing during Lily’s absence. Thecertainty that she had heard of the rupture with the Dorsets made theprospect of the meeting more formidable; and how should Lily haverepressed a quick sense of relief at the thought that, instead ofundergoing the anticipated ordeal, she had only to enter gracefully on along-assured inheritance? It had been, in the consecrated phrase, “alwaysunderstood” that Mrs. Peniston was to provide handsomely for her niece;and in the latter’s mind the understanding had long since crystallizedinto fact.

About Edith Wharton

It all turned on the tiresome distinction between what amarried woman might, and a girl might not, do. Of course it was shockingfor a married woman to borrow money—and Lily was expertly aware of theimplication involved—but still, it was the mere MALUM PROHIBITUM whichthe world decries but condones, and which, though it may be punished byprivate vengeance, does not provoke the collective disapprobation ofsociety. The result of her meditations was thedecision to join her aunt at Richfield. She could not remain at Bellomontwithout playing bridge, and being involved in other expenses; and tocontinue her usual series of autumn visits would merely prolong the samedifficulties.

She had always accepted withphilosophic calm the fact that such existences as hers were pedestalledon foundations of obscure humanity. The dreary limbo of dinginess lay allaround and beneath that little illuminated circle in which life reachedits finest efflorescence, as the mud and sleet of a winter night enclosea hot-house filled with tropical flowers. All this was in the naturalorder of things, and the orchid basking in its artificially createdatmosphere could round the delicate curves of its petals undisturbed bythe ice on the panes. If only she could reach there before thislabouring anguish burst from her breast to her lips—if only she couldfeel the hold of Gerty’s arms while she shook in the ague-fit of fearthat was coming upon her! She pushed up the door in the roof and calledthe address to the driver.

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the house of mirth

The gallery aims to be as accommodating as possible – if you or member(s) of your group require any special accommodations due to a disability, please contact the gallery in advance of your visit to discuss your requirements. The catalyst for this reversal of perspective is Lawrence’s arrival. Like the work of the modernists Wharton anticipates, The House of Mirth embraces the notion of reality as a landscape shaped by consciousness. What destroys Lily is not so much the frivolity of her world as her own inability to commit to that frivolity – or else to break away.

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Now her downward spiral accelerates, for, being undisciplined, unskilled and unable to sleep without narcotics, she is even less equipped to thrive as a trimmer of ladies’ hats than she was as the lady who wore them. Alone and exhausted, she finds herself on a bench in Bryant Park after dark. There, she is recognised and scooped up by Nettie Struther, a girl Lily once helped, through Gerty, to recover from tuberculosis by paying for her stay in a sanatorium. Nettie coaxes Lily to the tenement apartment where she and her husband live with their newborn. Lily has no wish to look across that veil; even when she gives money to Gerty’s needy girls (having taken it, fatally, from Gus Trenor), she does so mostly for the narcissistic pleasure of feeling philanthropic. Yet something of the instability – and hidden brutality – that underlies her languid, moneyed cohort keeps invading Lily’s vision of it.

There was to be plantationmusic in the studio after dinner—for Mrs. Fisher, despairing of therepublic, had taken up modelling, and annexed to her small crowded housea spacious apartment, which, whatever its uses in her hours of plasticinspiration, served at other times for the exercise of an indefatigablehospitality. Lily was reluctant to leave, for the dinner was amusing, andshe would have liked to lounge over a cigarette and hear a few songs; butshe could not break her engagement with Judy, and shortly after ten sheasked her hostess to ring for a hansom, and drove up Fifth Avenue to theTrenors’. Selden, who had put one of these seats to the test, found himself, froman angle of the ball-room, surveying the scene with frank enjoyment. Thecompany, in obedience to the decorative instinct which calls for fineclothes in fine surroundings, had dressed rather with an eye to Mrs.Bry’s background than to herself. The seated throng, filling the immenseroom without undue crowding, presented a surface of rich tissues andjewelled shoulders in harmony with the festooned and gilded walls, andthe flushed splendours of the Venetian ceiling. His voice had risen sharply with the last words, and Lily flushed withannoyance, but she kept command of the situation and laid a persuasivehand on his arm.

Her fibres had been softened by suffering, and thesudden glimpse into his mocked and broken life disarmed her contempt forhis weakness. Dorset, swinging along with bent head, in moody abstraction, did not seeMiss Bart till he was close upon her; but the sight, instead of bringinghim to a halt, as she had half-expected, sent him toward her with aneagerness which found expression in his opening words. Miss Bart went with the Gormers to Alaska; and the expedition, if it didnot produce the effect anticipated by her friend, had at least thenegative advantage of removing her from the fiery centre of criticism anddiscussion.

Her extraordinary beauty should have served her well to find a wealthy husband with the requisite social status that would have secured her place in upper-class New York society. However, her inner longing to become free of her society's social conventions, her sense of what is right, and her desire for love as well as money and status have thwarted her success in spite of a number of eligible admirers over the ten years she has been on the marriage market. To protect Lawrence Selden's reputation, she refuses to use damning evidence against her nemesis, Bertha Dorset, which would have recouped her ruined social standing.

My Favorite Anti-Semite: Edith Wharton - Tablet Magazine

My Favorite Anti-Semite: Edith Wharton.

Posted: Thu, 09 Aug 2018 07:00:00 GMT [source]

The New York winter had presented an interminable perspective ofsnow-burdened days, reaching toward a spring of raw sunshine and furiousair, when the ugliness of things rasped the eye as the gritty wind groundinto the skin. Selden, immersed in his work, had told himself thatexternal conditions did not matter to a man in his state, and that coldand ugliness were a good tonic for relaxed sensibilities. He leaned forward a little, resting his hands on the head of hiswalking-stick. He had seen men of Ned Van Alstyne’s type bring their hatsand sticks into a drawing-room, and he thought it added a touch ofelegant familiarity to their appearance. “Really, Lily, you are old enough to manage your own affairs, and afterfrightening me to death by your performance of last night you might atleast choose a better time to worry me with such matters.” Mrs. Penistonglanced at the clock, and swallowed a tablet of digitalis. “If you oweCeleste another thousand, she may send me her account,” she added, asthough to end the discussion at any cost.

Lily had arranged a later appointment with Selden while at the wedding, and she counts on his love for her to overcome her foolish mistakes. Themute lips on the pillow refused him more than this—unless indeed theyhad told him the rest in the kiss they had left upon his forehead. Yes,he could now read into that farewell all that his heart craved to findthere; he could even draw from it courage not to accuse himself forhaving failed to reach the height of his opportunity.

As for the plot, a group of smart, interesting people, mostly family, have been living on a working farm for many years. The farm is owned by young Sonia (Pill), who works it, very happily, with her middle-aged uncle, Vanya (Carell). Her late mother — Vanya’s sister — owned the farm originally, which is why Vanya lives there with his own mother, Sonia’s feminist grandmother (Jayne Houdyshell); Sonia’s godfather (Jonathan Hadary); and her nanny (Mia Katigbak), who takes care of the meals and the house.

One bore the address of a bank, and as it was stamped andsealed, Selden, after a moment’s hesitation, laid it aside. On the otherletter he read Gus Trenor’s name; and the flap of the envelope was stillungummed. But he remembered Gerty’s warning words—he knew that, though time hadceased in this room, its feet were hastening relentlessly toward thedoor. Gerty had given him this supreme half hour, and he must use it asshe willed. The door closed on Gerty, and he stood alone with the motionless sleeperon the bed.

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