Showing posts with label novels set in new england. Show all posts
Showing posts with label novels set in new england. Show all posts

Monday, July 9, 2018

Book Review: Ethan Frome, by Edith Wharton (1911)

Penguin Classics cover of Ethan Frome, by Edith Wharton, 1911.


Edith Wharton at her desk.
Poor Ethan Frome! The guy can’t catch a break! His parents’ illnesses force him to return to his family’s farm. After both of his parents die, he then has to take care of his wife Zeena, who is bedeviled by a number of non-specific ailments. Zeena’s cousin, Mattie Silver, comes to the Frome’s farm to help with the household chores and to take care of Zeena. Mattie is everything Zeena is notvivacious, lively, and kind to Ethan. Naturally, Ethan falls in love with Mattie. 

Ethan Frome, the novella by Edith Wharton, first published in 1911, tells the tale of Ethan’s secret love for Mattie. The setting is the appropriately named Starkfield, and Ethan’s farm on the outskirts of the village itself. Starkfield is a barren place, and Wharton’s evocative descriptions of the weather and landscape are superb. Here’s just one example:

“The cold was less sharp than earlier in the day and a thick fleecy sky threatened snow for the morrow. Here and there a star pricked through, showing behind it a deep well of blue. In an hour or two the moon would push over the ridge behind the farm, burn a gold-edged rent in the clouds, and then be swallowed by them.” (p.57)

Wharton does an excellent job of getting into the mind of Ethan Frome. The book is a testament to Wharton’s skill as an author, as she is able to convincingly portray the feelings and emotions of people so different from herself. Yes, that’s what great authors do, but some do it better than others, and here Wharton does it very well indeed.

One thing that Edith Wharton did have in common with Ethan Frome was an unhappy marriage. Born Edith Newbold Jones in 1862, she married Edward “Teddy” Wharton in 1885. It was quickly evident that their marriage was to be passionless. Teddy suffered greatly from depression, and the marriage ended when Edith divorced him in 1912. Perhaps some of Edith’s own feelings of martial dissatisfaction were channeled into the character of Ethan Frome.

Ethan Frome is often compared to Wharton’s 1917 novel Summer, which I reviewed here. Both books take place in rural New England, far away from the New York Gilded Age society that Wharton is so famous for portraying. Both novels include vivid descriptions of the natural landscape, and they both highlight the limited options available to their characters. Summer is a more hopeful book than Ethan Frome, but there are definitely similarities between Charity Royall, the main character in Summer, and Mattie Silver. Both young women are essentially orphanedMattie’s parents are both dead, while Charity has not seen her parents for many years, although her mother is still alive. Mattie and Charity have had limited educational opportunities, and they have few options available to them in their stories. 

The edition of Ethan Frome that I read was the Collier’s paperback from 1987, which featured a ridiculous afterword by noted literary critic Alfred Kazin. First Kazin writes that the book is “an American classic.” (p.131) Then he goes on to say that the novel is actually not as good as Madame Bovary or Anna Karenina, and, well, Wharton is a good writer, but she’s not as good as her friend Henry James. Kazin writes that “If Edith Wharton was not the equal of her good friend Henry James…she was above all a consummate professional.” (p.134) You could call genre fiction writers like Sidney Sheldon and Clive Cussler consummate professionals, but to call Edith Wharton a consummate professional is just an insult masquerading as faint praise. Edith Wharton was a serious literary writer who also achieved a great deal of popular acclaim. That’s more than just “a consummate professional.” Kazin’s essay quickly becomes tiresome, and it makes you wonder why he’s writing about Wharton at all if he feels so lukewarm about her. Fortunately, Kazin’s essay doesn’t detract from the wonderful writing and compelling story in Ethan Frome.

Tuesday, July 3, 2018

Book Review: Summer, by Edith Wharton (1917)

Penguin Classics cover of Summer, by Edith Wharton, first published in 1917.


Author Edith Wharton, 1862-1937.
Edith Wharton’s novel Summer, published in 1917, hasn’t achieved the same level of fame as her best-known works, The Age of Innocence and The House of Mirth, but it’s an excellent book about a young woman’s first love. Summer is the first book of Wharton’s I’ve read. I enjoyed Wharton’s beautifully descriptive language that was vividly on display throughout Summer. 

The physical landscape is almost a major character in Summer, as Wharton includes many descriptions of the New England countryside where the novel is set. The main character is eighteen-year-old Charity Royall, who lives in the tiny village of North Dormer. The name of the village may be a pun on dormer windows, as Charity’s love interest, Lucius Harney, is an architect. Charity was born “on the Mountain,” in a small enclave of outcasts from society, and was brought “down the Mountain” when she was a young girl by lawyer Royall and his wife. (I didn’t forget to capitalize his first name, it’s never mentioned in the book, and he’s often called simply “lawyer Royall,” as he is in the legal profession.) By the time the novel opens, Mr. Royall’s wife is long dead, and he makes his relationship with Charity super awkward by proposing to her. Charity turns him down, and then asserts her independence by getting a job at the village library so she can earn some money of her own, with the eventual idea of leaving North Dormer. 

North Dormer’s most notable resident was Honorius Hatchard, an early 19th century writer:

“Such had been the sole link between North Dormer and literature, a link piously commemorated by the erection of the monument where Charity Royall, every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, sat at her desk under a freckled steel engraving of the deceased author, and wondered if he felt any deader in his grave than she did in his library.” (p.5) 

But Charity’s job and life get a lot more interesting when Lucius Harney comes to town. Harney is an architect who is researching old houses in the area. He and Charity instantly connect when he steps into the library to do some research. However, Charity’s pride is offended when she learns that Lucius has told his cousin, the elderly and wealthy Miss Hatchard, that the books in the library were in bad shape. Charity’s relationship with Lucius is thus a tempestuous one from the very beginning. 

Summer is a very sensual novel, despite the fact that Charity and Lucius don’t share their first kiss until halfway through the book. There are beautiful passages throughout the book, such as this one: 
 “The dew hung on everything, not as a lingering moisture, but in separate beads that glittered like diamonds on the ferns and grasses.” (p.50)

Wharton also had a sharp eye for characters, and even minor characters get vivid descriptions: “She sat before her reflection, bending the brim this way and that, while Ally Hawes’s pale face looked over her shoulder like the ghost of wasted opportunities.” (p.81)

One of my favorite sentences in the book was this one: “Charity’s heart contracted. The first fall of night after a day of radiance often gave her a sense of hidden menace: it was like looking out over the world as it would be when love had gone from it.” (p.121) That’s a sentence that just sticks with you long after you finish reading it.

Summer is often compared to Wharton’s other New England novel, Ethan Frome. There’s a small connection between the two books: at the very beginning of Summer it’s mentioned that Charity might attend a boarding school in Starkfieldthe town that Ethan Frome is set in. 

Summer is a superbly written novel, with complex characters and themes. Charity Royall is a fascinating protagonist, and the dilemmas she faces throughout the book illustrate how difficult it was in 1917 for a woman in her position to have any independence.