Constant Reader Classics Corner

[Ruth]

Henry James had a patholigical aversion to periods.
As in .

Wanna see the paltry digs of Edith Wharton?

Here's a changing slide show of the environment she had to endure.

http://www.edithwharton.org/

[Sherry]

Aw, poor thing.

[Yulia]

Yes, so much mowing to do. I can only hope she had someone to help her with the chores. . . .

But I ask again: who is stronger? May or Ellen? Or should we be asking who has more integrity? Who has a better game-plan in life?

[Barbara]

I just finished the book yesterday and loved being rewarded by this great book talk, lots of food for thought.

SPOILERS****


I agree with those who think that the title seems to refer to this period of history in New York society. It seems incredible that these people actually thought that they could control outside influences from this little cubby-hole they managed to construct. In the very short time of one generation, Newland and May's son could marry the daughter of Beaufort and Fanny Ring. How unthinkable that would have been a mere 25 years earlier.

End of Spoilers**************

I'm surprised at those who find Newland Archer so unattractive. He seemed to me to be the step between the old world of the van der Luyden's and the new one of Dallas Archer.

[Ricki]

Did anyone else think that none of these characters were particularly likeable? I ask for several reasons - firstly I'll add I read this after a family bereavement so perhaps I've looked at it in rather a skewed fashion.
It relates back to my original post - I hadn't known anything at all about Wharton and looked on the net where I noticed that she really had come out of the society that she writes about in this book; she also had had a marriage that appears rather empty and I wondered whether her pictures of this time in this book were very much those coming from her particular circumstances. To me none of the characters are ones I could warm to - they didn't have, even if they acted out of their principles, any feelings of warmth to each other. Where she described May's attempts to reach out to Newland it was a description, not conveying, at least to me, emotional depth. Ellen acted nobly and suffered from the society at the time, but even towards Ellen, I couldn't feel any empathy. So that's why I wondered whether Wharton's own relationships within this society were so, should I say painful, or did she find it so empty that it reflected in the way she used descriptions here. I've just taken another of her books out of the library so perhaps when I finish reading it, I'll have a better idea.

As for who is stronger of the two - I can't think that there is much difference. Each gave up some of her hopes and dreams for her own purposes, neither achieved their ideal.

[Janet]

It is difficult to truely put oneself into the mindset of a different generation. From the perspective of our own time frame, Ellen appears weak for not following through with what she really wanted: a divorce. She really wants a relationship with Archer but encourages him to go ahead and marry May; eventually retreating away from temptations by returning to Europe. Newland is infatuated with Ellen, senses he will be bored with May, but goes ahead and marries her anyway. Sadly, the sense of duty and honor to societal views of the time keep these characters from following their hearts. Yet in their own way they appear to have reconciled their choices with what was socially proper into satisfactory lives for themselves.

May defintely seemed most comfortable with her role in society. At least in the begining of the book she appears to really be in love with Newland. Despite her perception of his wandering heart, she knows she wants her respectable marriage. After he declines the offer of backing out, she quietly behind the scenes employs tactics she knows will be to her advantage in keeping him for herself. She hints at being pregnant to Ellen, it is implied, before she actually was; then ensures the fact. She went after what she wanted and got it. So, maybe afterall she was the strongest

[Barbara]

I thought it was interesting that Wharton emphasized May's athleticism throughout. This is not something I expected from a traditional 19th century woman of the upper classes. Perhaps, that was supposed to remind us that she was the strongest in other ways as well?

And, btw, I loved Scorsese's film version of this. Daniel Day-Lewis and Michelle Pfeiffer were perfectly cast, I thought. But, Winona Ryder certainly didn't project May Welland's physicality.

[Tom]

Agreed, Barbara, film version was marvelous, certainly much better than the film version of House of Mirth, which I found painfully mechanical. It almost seemed that the director took approach that stiff acting would be effective way to reflect stiff social codes. What a mistake. At first, I thought Gillian Anderson would make a fine Lily Bart, but her performance was so flat, stiff. I'm blaming the director, whoever it was.

[Yulia]

Yikes, Anderson was an awful choice for Lily Bart. I can't forgive whoever cast her. The movie was even advertised at the end of my Barnes & Noble edition, with glowing praise, of course.

As for Winona Ryder, I thought she was a fabulous May Welland. She did a very convincing job of seeming innocent yet underhanded.

[Ricki]

Steve,

May achieved her marriage and kept her husband - she didn't get the love that she wanted returned in the same measure that she gave it - I think that was a compromise (not that life for most humans isn't a compromise of sorts). I agree with Janet that May was probably the strongest but she also knew the price she was paying for what she wanted and in a sense perhaps she was also innocent of what that price would be when she made the choice. We don't know how Ellen fared as far as I can remember.

I'll try to look up those films but I think I must read House of Mirth first. I also read that Age of Innocence was an apology for H o M and am really wondering just how vituperative that one will be. Shall look forward to finding out.

[Dottie]

I'm not so sure that even in today's much freer societal expectations that there are not in all levels of society men and women -- perhaps even more women than men as has always been so -- who make choices based on expectations just as did May, Ellen and Archer. The old saw -- the more things change, the more they stay the same applies here in my opinion.

My first thought upon closing the book was to view the film again. I have not seen the film of House of Mirth.

[Yulia]

I'd made a point of asking who was stronger, after Mina first brought it up, because in my own life I've been amazed how divergent the opinions are towards those who obey the conventions and those who oppose them, whether consciously or simply by letting their life choices take them where they may. And in the end, when asking whether the person is strong or weak, the answer seems to always be both. Newland was strong in staying with May, but weak in not following his passion. Ellen was strong in abandoning her husband, but weak in not divorcing him. May was strong in keeping Newland, but weak in never questioning society's path for her. And I'm sure it could be argued exactly the opposite as how I've presented their challenges, that their seeming weaknesses were in fact their strengths.

I do wonder how Ellen fared all those years later, if she found peace with her choices and a true home in Europe as she didn't have with her husband or if she continued to punish herself for her earlier mistakes with her self-exile and saw this as the price she had to pay for her recklessness.

Either way, I wish I could have followed Newland's son into her apartment to speak with her and find out if she was at peace. Wharton did end it the right way in getting us to want more, but dang it, I hate not knowing. As a curious bystander, I have nothing to lose, after all. No fantasies to challenge or dreams to remedy.

[Yulia]

I've been thinking of what kind of marriage Newland and May could have had, had he only been more realistic about his own limitations and understood better May's quiet intelligence (and machinations). No, May was never interested in going against the norm, but she and Newland could have had a more companionable, challenging, engaging relationship than the one Wharton suggested they'd had. Think of the conversations they could have had, if only he saw her capable of having them. Ah, but what he loved about her was how they didn't need to speak to understand each other--what an irony, considering how little he understood May in the end. It's a pity she didn't live longer, as I've come to see that some couples develop a deeper understanding of each other only after decadesof being together.

Considering her rooting in tradition and social propriety, what could have developed between them if Newland understood her better? Could he have made him a truly great citizen, as she pulled the strings in the background? Or had she always done her best without his knowing, and their life together was the height of his and her abilities?

I'll stop here so I'm not seen as talking to myself.

[Barbara]

The lack of intellectual curiosity is the key, I think. I've speculated a bit like you, Yulia, but my thoughts always go to who May would be in the 21st century. Raising and teaching children has made me realize how subtly we mold them according to our gender expectations. In the 19th century, there was nothing subtle about it. I keep seeing May as captain of her high school softball or volleyball team. I don't think she was every going to be an intellectual wonder, but she certainly would have been a different person if she could have put some of that physical prowess to work.

But, in the reality of the novel, this quote struck me when I read it:

That terrifying product of the social system he belonged to and believed in, the young girl who knew nothing and expected everything, looked back at him like a stranger through May Welland's familiar features; and once more it was borne in on him that marriage was not the safe anchorage that he had been taught to think, but an uncharted voyage on seas.

Wharton certainly jammed a lot of truth into a very long sentence there.

[Yulia]

I think you underestimate May's great practical intelligence. No, she may not have Newland's ease of absorbing history and philosophy books or Ellen's insight into falseness and unnecessary custom, but she did know how to work loopholes and was great at strategizing and getting what she wanted from people.

Perhaps her ability to work the system would have been on clearer display had she been poor. (I don't think she would have floundered as Lily Bart did.) For instance, my mother admits she's not the most intellectually savvy in our family but she did manage our family better than anyone of us could. She was able, on a lower-middle class budget, to get all her kids into private school and can get a rebate or reimbursement like no one I know. She is a survivor, and I now see May as one, too.

May also reminds me of a college classmate who allowed our suite to use her bedroom as a common room, yet was still able to do all her assignments on time, graduate summa in comparative literature, and fulfilled all her pre-med requirements (she's now at Yale for med school). She never showed off what she knew or the effort she put into things: she simply pulled it all off while remaining seemingly passive and disinterested, never letting her true feeling show and keeping everyone at a safe distance while they were enraptured by her grace. This actually disturbed me about her, her cat-like elusiveness, but I've come to appreciate it more with time, even if I've never been quite comfortable with her.

These are two very different kinds of a modern May, but I think both suggest a scrappiness and an ability to manage under a great deal of pressure that Newland never fully understood in his arrogance. Similarly, my father still considers my mother limited because she likes happy endings and is not lost in great literature and opera and classical music, but he is horribly wrong in dismissing her: indeed, he wouldn't be able to be as clueless as he is, if not for my mother's managing his life. I'm a firm believer in Howard Gardner's theory of multiple intelligences, and May, like my mother and former classmate, possessed skills I could never hope to learn.

Yes, I recognize her frustrating limitations in not questioning tradition (and I wonder if this weren't in fact her choice not to question it), but there is so much besides that, which we (me included) don't often give people credit for. I wouldn't necessarily want her as my friend, but the world depends on people like her, and I say this knowing that I don't identify with her at all.

As for Newland, Steve, I believe you overestimate how much he is in control of his own limitations. He may be an interesting person to talk to over dinner, but he would be a weight around any woman's shoulders.

[Sherry]

Yulia, your last paragraph makes me wonder if Newland and Ellen had been able to connect, she would have tired of him. Or he of her. I think they both rather enjoyed the unattainability of each other, which greatly explains the last scene.

[Yulia]

Perhaps I should temper my opinions. If I were writing an essay, I would present both sides of the argument and find a happy medium, but I'm not in such a mood right now.

Steve, you list in what Newland provided the qualities most mothers want for their sons-in-law, all unquestionably commendable but not quite sufficient for a meaningful, mutually supportive relationship, in my mind. As a relative kid in this group, however, may I suggest that Newland didn't offer true companionship, empathy, true understanding of his partner or a willingness to question his assumptions, or emotional strength, the kind of anchoring that would have allowed him to go up to Ellen's apartment and confront their passion for what it was: a poorly-rooted fantasy. Nor was he truly open to learning from May or Ellen. This is what would have driven me crazy, his blind confidence and complaisance.

I think Sherry is on to something: Newland would have bored Ellen, I think, much sooner than she would have bored him.

Can grand passions last? My only guess is that they must evolve in order to last. When the two remain in close contact, the passion must be substantiated by reason and regular negotiation, among other things. But I learn about love every day and maybe, in several decades, I'll realize that I don't know anything (ah, sadly too many never do come to this epiphany!).

I know (or I have the hunch?) that I'm much too confident in my opinions than I should be. I hope, however, that I'm not seen as entirely unreasonable or illogical.

[Yulia]

My interpretation: first that this could have all been avoided had they truly gotten to know each other for a good time before he proposed (instead of his guessing how she was), but that's merely the fault of their era's customs. Second, as it was, he was a fool to want to fill a woman with his own ideas (how boring would that be!) and that, when he found out her true mind, he and May were simply incompatible in regards to their taste and opinions. But then, such compatibility is very difficult to come by (as I've learned from asking other CR members about the role of reading in their own relationships), so it doesn't show a tragic flaw in either of them, only naive hopes unfulfilled.

And what is your interpretation? Could it be so different? Was may the tragic flaw in this nuptial equation? I love your citing specific passages, by the way. I know how important it is to return to the primary source, but I can't seem to get up the motivation after I've finished a book.

I'll return to the passage tomorrow and see what more I can make from it, about May and her implied limitations. In truth, I don't believe we know enough about May objectively to say just how limited she is. Had he been a better "teacher," perhaps she would have blossomed more as his student.

[Ricki]

Isn't what we are talking about here a different way of looking at marriage - it was meant certainly in that time and society (and even in some strands of societies and cultures now) to cement the relationships - business, financial and bloodlines - between two families. I thought Newland had known both May and Ellen since they were quite young - there's a passage somewhere that indicated this (and like you, Yulia, I'm lacking in motivation to go back to the source once I finish reading so haven't done so this time either). The difference was in the expectations Newland had of a relationship which was perhaps naive in the sense that youth or inexperience can be (although he had been involved with someone else before he had no concrete ideas about what marriage entailed - he had ideals alone).

[Yulia]

I wonder, though, how much time Newland spent getting to know May one on one, as she's over a decade younger than Ellen and Newland. A bit more awkward to imagine him as an adult already, watching her grow up. Thank goodness he wasn't friends with her father.

By the way, Steve, I've reread the passage from message 79 and don't vary in my opinion. Yes, May's predictable and limited, as my father would put it, and I wouldn't seek out her company myself, but that's no reason to dismiss her opinion always or be as condescending and bitter as Newland seems to have been. It's easy to blame another person when he or she doesn't meet our expectations, but it's just as much our own fault for not having intuited or taken the time to understand the other person better in the first place. Marriage doesn't change people, after all, as much as it's claimed by divorcing couples.

[Yulia]

Yes, predictable besides the secret she kept from Newland all those years! Was she that good at hiding what she knew or was he just painfully self-absorbed? Both, probably.

[Rosana]

I just wanted to thank everyone here for all your comments. I read "Age of Innocence" a couple of years ago, among other American classics, in an attempt to familiarize myself with those books that everyone read in High School but I, having attended High School in Brazil, only knew by name. As a matter of fact, I read "Portrait of a Lady" about the same time, and never recognized the connection.

I had good intentions to re-read "Age of Innocence" for this discussion, but my reading time (and internet time) has been close to NIL in the past couple of weeks. Yet, I truly enjoyed all your comments. I wish I had you all to discuss it with when I was doing my solo reading journey through the American big weights. As it is, you all already gave me much to ponder.

I will try and join future discussions.

[Wilhelmina]

We are all limited, in one way or another. We choose our significant others on the basis of what is most important to us. I do not think that Newland had the vaguest idea about what a European life with Ellen would have been like. Personally, I think that somewhere around the umteenth time that Newland implied to friends that he had given up everything for Ellen, she would have hit him over the head with the closest vase.

Ellen knew what their life together would be, and she found it unacceptable. Newland's brilliant plan was just to abandon May and follow Ellen, at which point Ellen would be unable to resist him. Seriously arrogant.

[Whitaker]

At the end of the day, I personally think that they had a fairly decent marriage. Certainly from the description at the end, they seemed to get along -- no icy cold toleration or anything like that. No great fires of passion either, but then passion can be seriously overrated. They got along okay, they had kids that they loved and cherished. At the end of the day, lots of people don't get as much.

As for Ellen, I actually think she was pretty savvy and shrewd in her own way. After all, she pretty much got a very decent deal for a woman in those times. She got to be financially independent and to enjoy her life as she pleased. Sure, she did not divorce her husband, but to have all of that, in those days, when being able to lead a life not being dependent on a male provider was more than most women could hope for... And given that she wrangled that when it all was looking pretty hopeless, that's pretty street-smart.

I'm not even so sure she really wanted to be with Newland in the long run. She was clear eyed and realistic about where that would lead, and she chose not to go down that path. She gave Newland every opportunity to eschew that path as well, but he kept insisting on it in a pretty self-absorbed fashion. And so she engineered it so that she could escape from him as best she could. All in all, not a bad result for her at all.

[Ricki]

Thanks Steve for looking up the passage.

[Yulia]

Capitu, reading books alongside other Constant Readers really is an enlightening experience, an advanced literature class in a continuing education program, with no disinterested high school students attending just to put the course on their college application. I'm very curious as to which books made it onto your American classics reading list besides Age of Innocence and Portrait of a Lady.

Mina, yes, we all are limited in different ways. True, we choose our partners according to what is most important to us, but often people's values of what is important changes as they age and many simply can't foresee what may be important in a decade or more. "For better or worse," yes, but a look into the specifics of "worse" would be helpful in making the best choice of partner. I love your image of Ellen breaking a vase on his head. "You have no idea what I gave up for this woman. . . ." he says, as he thinks wistfully of reading Faust to May. His arrogance is suffocating.

Whitaker, I think Ellen lost faith in Archer after he convinced her to consummate their love, making her the mistress she'd never wanted to be. He cheapened her, and she must have hated him for it. But I don't know if Wharton meant for us to see the Archer marriage as being a success (lovely children aside), but neither did I think she would suggest they deserved any better than they got. Certainly, their children gave meaning to their lives, as it does for many couples, but does loving your children alone justify a rather empty marriage? I don't know. All I can ask is, if they hadn't had children, would you still see their marriage as rather satisfying all in all?

Steve, that's a great quote you found regarding a form of innocence displayed in the book, but I wouldn't limit the forms of innocence shown in this book to just that one. As someone noted earlier, they were all innocent and not in different manners. You misunderstand me in my having suggested that May isn't as foolish as she seems to Archer. I am not and have never suggested she was worth the "sacrifice." That thought never crossed my mind. But as I just noted, I don't think she or Newland deserved any better than they got, due to their limitations. Ellen's life may not have been much better than Newland's, but I am grateful she rid herself of Newland, who meant for her to be no more than his mistress after he himself persuaded her not to divorce.

Yes, the Archer children did give meaning to their lives, but . . . shouldn't relationships be judged by more than the children they produce?

[Whitaker]

I don't think that May and Newland had a successful marriage. I just think that what they had was, by any standards, not too bad (even if they hadn't had kids). I know of couples that stay together -- for the sake of the children or because they are Catholic or for any one of any number of reasons -- and they HATE each other. I even know someone whose parents have for years been passing notes to each other rather than talk because they detest each other so much. You can only imagine what family dinners are like. But they stay together "for the sake of the kids". (roll eyeballs)

And this is today. In the late 19th century, divorce was still considered as anathema. Even looking at the relatively "successful" marriages described in the book, they don't come across as a passionate partnership of respectful equals. The marriage of May's parents, for example, comes across as more mutual tolerance than a true partnership. So, I think that by the standards of that time, what May and Newland had--a working and workmanlike marriage--was pretty much the acceptable norm.

I also think that in the late 1800's, the problem was compounded because women didn't have the economic power to leave a marriage that wasn't working. The acceptable options for a lady (i.e., middle class or more) forced by circumstances to support herself were not particularly attractive. Being a governess for example. If you look at a A Room with a View, the sisters (can't recall their names offhand) had an easy life because they had their inheritance to fall back on. Without that... it might well have meant a marriage for economic reasons rather than romantic ones.

And that's why I think Ellen was both very lucky, and very shrewd. Bearing in mind what society was like then, she had a life of ease, able to indulge in matters of the mind with no concerns about economic survival. Just like Margaret and her sister. Imagine what her life would have been like if she had had to work in a factory, or as a governess. Her fate would likely have been worse than Leonard Bast's (?). Instead, she got to end it in a nice apartment in Paris exchanging ideas with the Beau Monde (who knows, perhaps even Monet?). I can think of much worse.

About how options for women and attitudes to women have changed, there's a really interesting discussion in the Science Fiction and Fantasy Book Club. One post recalls how in the 1950's, you would get marriage manuals that would tell women: The man is the master of the house. When he gets home from work, remember to do your hair and dress prettily for him. Smile and serve him a cocktail. Make sure the children are in bed. He's had a hard day. He doesn't want to hear about your mundane household problems. Read a little of the papers so that you can discuss those topics with him. He will enjoy educating you on those worldly matters.... and so on in the same vein. (BURK!)

[Whitaker]

Ooh, I was re-reading all the previous posts, and I wanted to say thanks very very very much for this. It's been the most-est fun! :-) I don't really get to talk books with other people, so this has been absolutely incredible!

[Diana]

I read Age over the summer and wish this thread had been available then! I am thoroughly enjoying all your comments. I have two thoughts. One is the importance of the fact that the narrative is so closely tied in with Newland--I think it does throw the comments on the characters into doubt. I don't think he is a completely trustworthy narrator. A lot has to be inferred around his character's viewpoint. The biggest case in point is May, which many people here have pointed out. Her understanding of the situation with Ellen and her management of it belies Newland's assertions about her predictability and innocence, so I think we have to look at all his assumptions about her critically.

In the same vein, I think his interpretations about Ellen, including Ellen's feelings for him, have to be looked at critically. It occurred to me that she may not want to run off with him at all. We know she is able to subtly and skillfully keep men who are interested in her at bay, and it seems to me that she is doing the same with Newland. All this talk about how they can only be close while they are far away to me seems like a wonderfully useful paradox meant to keep Newland far from her yet not offended or feeling rejected. She assumes he will be true to his values and thus stay enmeshed in the paradox. Then he totally betrays his values and her in his wish to have at least an affair with her. I think Yulia is correct that it must have really angered Ellen to have him give up on his ideals and be willing to compromise her to such an extent.

My second thought is the extent to which Age can be read as a scathing critique of marriage, ala Hardy in Jude the Obscure. It is interesting that Hardy tells his tale through a woman and Wharton through a man, but I think this choice makes it impossible to read Age as anything but ironic. Otherwise, it is too easy to dismiss both May and Ellen, to see the problems as personal and to miss the more global, societal critique.

[Rosana]

Yulia, the truth is that there was nothing systematic on my approach of what to read, and my definition of “classic” is a very lose one. Mainly I chose books that seem to have survived the test of time, or mentioned on internet boards – Diana’s mention of Judas, the Obscure in the previous post already sparkled my interest - and a couple I did get to discuss with my offline book club. My list included: My Antonia, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, Dandelion Wine, All the King’s Men, In Cold Blood, Tender is the Night, The Thin Man, Franny and Zoe, Strangers in a Train, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter…

Not American, but English literature that I also never read in High School and decided to try include: Middlemarch, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Far From the Madding Crowd, A Room with a View, A Passage to India, Mrs. Dalloway, To the Lighthouse…

I still feel that I have tremendous gaps in my “education” and this is truly a continuous process. It is just that there is such a great amount of contemporary literature I also want to keep abreast, plus I do enjoy the odd “good for the soul” detective story or a junky historical romance. It seems to come on waves, times when I crave more contemporary books, and times when I am drawn to more “classic” literature. There is never enough time for all books though!

As Whitaker says in his post, just reading this discussion has been great fun. I do belong to a bookclub and they are just wonderful – my saviors, really, on the very culturally isolated area I live – but the scope of the discussion and the number of people in this board is terrific. I am so glad I found you guys.

Sorry everyone for the long post and getting off the main topic.

[Yulia]

It seems this conversation is at its end. I want to thank everyone for making this a truly great discussion. It really did bring new light to this work and makes me glad I have a copy on hand to re-read and reconsider the characters, who all feel like old acquaintances but ones who still have the capacity to surprise. Some last thoughts:

Whitaker, I agree that, compared to most marriages, what May and Newland had was not too bad at all. But I do wonder whether Newland would have been faithful had they not had children. I know all too well the tension that can exist in couples that still remain together, my parents most notably for me. But then, when I visited home several weeks ago when Frank was away, I was amazed by how much they were talking to each other (something they never did while my brothers and I were growing up). I heard them whisper one evening and I broke in: "Aha, I caught you! You get along much better than you like to pretend." If only it was that way for the couples you spoke of. Of course, in every argument they still mention divorce. I still don't know what to make of their remaining together. It's so foreign to my own notion of companionship. But time will tell how my views change.

Yes, Ellen was very fortunate to have her grandmother's favor, but I do wonder what her life would have been like had she been disowned by Lily Bart.

It might interest you to see DON'T's for Wives, first published in 1913 and re-released this year. The advice is amazngly progressive. We'd have to do a more thorough review of books and first-hand testimonials on relationships to understand how marriage has evolved otver the years, even as some groups remain disturbingly old-fashioned. After all, an outsider might read and judge America hasn't changed one bit in the last century. but I'll leave that for sociologists and historians.

Diana, I agree, newland is far from a trustworthy narrator. We do have to adjust everything he observes to account for his rather limited and skewed appreciation for his own insightfulness.

Great observation that Ellen may have been leading Newland along this entire time. That deserves a lot of consideration, even a third reading for me. It's too bad you didn't join our conversation earlier so we could get others' takes on it. It really is a fascinating theory and I'm tempted to see its merit.

I don't remember Jude the Obscure enough to remember if it's narrator was female. Wasn't it simply third-person omniscient? Either way, I'll never be able to see Wharton as brutal a social critic as Hardy, even in House of Mirth. Hardy's perspective was witheringly harsh to me. But then, he described a different social class altogether.

Capitu, in truth, I haven't read all the books you listed even. I'd question your seeing holes in your education because you're now in a new environment where people take for granted the concentration of American and British writers they've read. Actually, I always faulted my own education for not including more world literature. Though I'm an American by birth, I suppose my having immigrant parents has led me to see how much there is beyond our borders and it can be depressing how narrowly patriotic school teaching can be. I won't go on, because I might be seen as a traitor for writing this, but never doubt how wel-read you are based on the standards of one group or another. For instance, when speaking with a guy I know who's obsessed with science fiction, I didn't recognize one author he mentioned and I found myself wondering, where is he from? I'd even dare to suggest, each individual has his or her own sense of what is essential (and not) for life. And how much these essentials overlap with others' lists is completely up to the person.

[Gail]

I'd like to add my little "thank you" to everyone who participated here. The differing views helped to clarify my own thinking as well as to make me see several different perspectives.