Review: "The Portrait of a Lady" By Henry James

One of the most enthralling and enchanting novels that I've read in a long, long time.  The Portrait of a Lady is early Henry James (written in 1881), and as cliche as it may sound, it is a veritable masterpiece.  There is simply so much going on within the covers of this elegantly crafted and sophisticated novel that it will take me a while to sort out my swirling thoughts and emotions upon finishing it.  Simply put though, this is the story of the young American woman, Isabel Archer, and her voyage of self-discovery among the staid and traditional landscape of British and European society.  Isabel's ability to 'choose', and the 'choices' she makes are the thread that is carefully woven throughout the novel, and it raises her stature as a fictional heroine, in my opinion, to the level of that of an Anna Karenina or Dorothea Brooke.  The novel's Chapter Forty-Two--with Isabel, by herself, sitting in the darkened room thinking for most of the night--is perhaps the greatest psychological tour-de-force I've encountered in fiction.  I reread that chapter probably four times in a row, and simply marveled at the creative genius that is Henry James in writing this novel and creating the character of Isabel Archer.  Stunning stuff!

This is an immensely powerful and profound novel that I am going to reread again very soon.  I want to reread it in conjunction with a reading of Michael Gorra's recent book, Portrait of a Novel: Henry James and the Making of an American Masterpiece, a runner-up for the 2013 Pulitzer Prize for biography and autobiography.  Give me a couple of weeks to reread The Portrait of a Lady and Gorra's book, and I'll be back in an effort to provide a more comprehensive review that will do justice to what just may be, in my very humble opinion, the 'Great American Novel'.  There really is ever so much to say about this most amazing novel.  There is no doubt in my mind that this is one of the best novels I've read in a couple of years--a genuine classic!  Five of five stars!

***

The Portrait of a Lady
By Henry James, 1881
Everyman's Library Edition
Hardcover, 672 pp.

Review: "The Reef" By Edith Wharton

Edith Wharton's The Reef was written in 1912 when she was essentially at her very best as a novelist, and I think her powers are quite evident in this engaging tale.  Also, this is a very theatrical story that I personally think would lend itself very well to a stage adaptation.  The book could just as easily have been entitled, The Chateau, as basically three-quarters of the novel takes place within the confines of Mrs Anna Leath's French estate, Givre.

This is the story of romantic relationships, double-standards and consequences among four Americans in Europe just before the First World War, and the entire plot turns on the things said and unsaid among the four protagonists.  Wharton, through the course of the novel, puts the reader squarely inside the mind and emotions of each of the four characters.  Consequently, it becomes hard to say with any certainty that this person is right, or that that person is wrong.  It is simply a "Human Story" and mistakes are made by each in turn, and this reader found it damnably difficult to side with one over the other.  Another element that I found intriguing is that Wharton only gives the reader the barest amount of background information about each of the characters throughout the book, as she wants the reader to focus on and fully experience the emotional crisis and psychological struggle that each is undergoing as the tale plays out.

While devastatingly painful to read at times, The Reef is an insightful portrait of the interactions among the men and women of "Society" at the beginning of the 20th century.  In some respects the moral ambiguity and dilemmas faced by Wharton's characters in The Reef really have not changed all that much--people still fall in love, deception still occurs, and feelings still mean everything.  When done with the book, one can't help but realize that Wharton's title--The Reef--is spot-on.  The challenge that each of us faces as we move through life is to sail carefully, but exuberantly, and avoid crashing on the reefs that will always be perilously close.  I am so glad to have read this and look forward to picking it up again sometime.  I unhesitatingly award this novel four of five stars.

***

The Reef
By Edith Wharton, 1912
Everyman's Library Edition
Hardcover, 290 pp.

Review: "The Touchstone" By Edith Wharton

I just finished reading The Touchstone again, in conjunction with reading Henry James's The Aspern Papers.  I believe that The Touchstone may have been Wharton's first published work of fiction too.

The novella tells the story of Stephen Glennard a youngish gentleman of New York's upper-crust society who is trying to find the financial wherewithal to marry his fiance, Miss Alexa Trent.  Sitting in his club one evening he encounters an advertisement from a Professor Joslin who is looking for any papers and correspondence from the late author, Miss Margaret Aubyn.  Miss Aubyn just happens to be the woman that Glennard had had a long-term intimate relationship with almost up until she died a few years earlier.

In short order, the reader discovers that Glennard has bundles and bundles of very personal letters that he received from Miss Aubyn during the course of their relationship.  He then decides to have them published, and the two-volumes become a huge literary hit with the reading public.

As people begin reading the volumes, particular those in Glennard's circle of friends, he finds out that most people are frankly appalled that anyone would expose these intimate letters to public scrutiny. It is not long before Glennard himself begins to doubt his own motives for publishing the letters, and it begins to negatively impact his own relationship with his now wife, Alexa.  In fact, they've even bought themselves a nice little house on the outskirts of New York City with the riches he's gained by selling the letters.  Even Alexa--who doesn't know that these intimate letters were addressed to Glennard, or that he's sold them--is basically horrified that anyone could be so callous and black-hearted as to open this incredibly personal window into Miss Aubyn's heart and soul.

For much of the novella the story revolves around the struggle and tension between Glennard's desire to do right and provide a meaningful income and life for his new wife, and the increasing guilt he is feeling for his betrayal of his former relationship with Miss Aubyn.  It builds to an important and emotionally powerful climactic scene involving Glennard and Alexa.

I suggest that a reading of Edith Wharton's The Touchstone can be significantly enhanced by first reading Henry James's The Aspern Papers (1888).  The topics of personal privacy, betrayal, trust, and the role of literary biographers and academic research are really front-and-center in both novellas.  Which is perhaps not all that surprising considering that Edith Wharton and Henry James not only knew each other well, but became very good friends.  Finally, The Touchstone truly is a most excellent introduction to the fiction of Edith Wharton, the first woman to be awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1921, for her novel, The Age of Innocence (1920).

***

The Touchstone
By Edith Wharton, 1900
Aegypan Press
Softcover, 124 pp. 

Review: "The Aspern Papers" By Henry James

The Aspern Papers is a brilliant novella written by Henry James and serialized in the Atlantic in 1888.  In short, The Aspern Papers is the story of an academic researcher, the novella's narrator, on the trail of bundles of personal letters and writings of a long-dead American poet, 'Jeffrey Aspern'.  Apparently, these letters and papers are in the possession of a very old woman, Miss Juliana Bordereau, who lives with her middle-aged niece in an old rambling palazzo in a shabbier part of Venice.  Our narrator rents a room from the women under false pretenses and endeavors to elicit the aid of the niece in discovering the whereabouts of the papers.  He is not above using deceit and artifice in ingratiating himself with the women.  It is clear from the outset that he is obsessed and consumed with obtaining the papers--he calls them his "spoils"--and cares little for the old woman's privacy or the memories of her lost love.

This is a creepy read, and one can't help but sympathize with the poor lonely middle-aged niece, Miss Tina, and even for the ancient Miss Juliana who lives for the memories of her love affair with Aspern.  It becomes altogether uncomfortable for the reader as the narrator emotionally and psychologically manipulates the niece into becoming his accomplice in trying to find and acquire the papers.  Frankly, the ending of the tale is incredibly satisfying to my mind.

I think the point that James is trying to make in this novella is that there really is quite the moral dilemma when it comes to personal privacy and the pursuit of information for intellectual or commercial purposes.  In other words, if an author or poet becomes famous and well-read, the question becomes just how much of their life becomes fair game, if you will, for future biographers, researchers, and so forth?  It is a tough question for sure. 

As I read The Aspern Papers, I realized that other authors have written about this dilemma as well.  For example, Edith Wharton's superb novella, The Touchstone, written in 1900 revolves around a man who sells bundles of very intimate personal letters he received from a former lover who was also a very famous author.  A.S. Byatt sort of gets to this same point with correspondence between two fictional Victorian poets in her Booker Prize winning novel, Possession (1990).  Towards this end then, if you read The Aspern Papers, I strongly urge you to immediately follow it up with a read of Wharton's The Touchstone.  It is a wonderful way to link the two novellas, and is made even more meaningful in that Henry James and Edith Wharton spent much time together and became very good friends.

***

The Aspern Papers & The Turn of the Screw
By Henry James
Penguin Classics Edition
Softcover, 272

Review: "Washington Square" By Henry James

Some truly monstrous fathers can be found among the great works of fiction.  Shakespeare's King Lear and Titus Andronicus certainly come to mind, or Hardy's 'Michael Henchard', and 'Laius of Thebes' may be the worst of the lot.  Having just finished reading Henry James's Washington Square I am now fully prepared to add Doctor Austin Sloper to my top-ten list of 'Worst Fathers of Fiction'.

Washington Square is a short novel (more a novella) by Henry James written in 1880, and is really an excellent introduction to the fiction of James.  The novel is set in the New York City of the mid-19th century, and is the story of the courting of Dr. Sloper's only living child, Catherine, by a handsome young man, Morris Townsend.  Catherine is, according to her father, "a dull, plain girl", but she is very, very rich.  The plot largely revolves around Townsend's efforts to win Catherine's hand in marriage; the Doctor's efforts to thwart the attachment; and the meddling interference of Catherine's busy-body aunt, Lavinia Penniman.  During the course of the courtship the reader is exposed to the monstrosity of Dr. Sloper, and begins to question the motives of Morris Townsend, and most importantly we witness the maturation of Catherine Sloper.

Some authors paint the landscapes of their fictional world and insert their characters and the plot into it, but James takes an entirely different approach.  Henry James portrays the psychological landscape of his characters' minds with his words.  However, he throws a wrinkle into the mix as his narrator is neither omniscient nor completely reliable.  In other words, much of the time the reader knows as little or as much as the characters themselves in the novel.  It is almost as though the reader is sitting in the parlor listening to the conversations, but maybe is only able to comprehend half of what is said.

Read this book slowly and carefully, and try and place yourself in the the thoughts and emotions of each of the protagonists and you'll find that your perceptions sharpen and you're able to detect the psychological nuances that influence the tale's outcome.  I'm of the mind that this is a story to read and reread and continually discover new and important insights.  James seems to prefer to exercise his readers and that is perhaps not altogether a bad thing.  A solid four out of five stars for me.

***

Washington Square
By Henry James, 1880
Everyman's Library Edition
Hardcover, 232 pp.

Review: "The Old Way: A Story of the First People" By Elizabeth Marshall Thomas

The Old Way: A Story of the First People is an absolutely fascinating account of the !Kung, or Ju/wasi ("The People"), people of the Kalahari Desert region of southwestern Africa.  Elizabeth Marshall Thomas wrote this book in 2006, based upon the many years that she and her family spent with these amazing people starting in the early 1950s.  In fact, Thomas's mother ended up publishing several anthropological monographs through Harvard University describing the !Kung hunter-gatherer lifestyle in this desolate and unforgiving landscape.  Thomas herself, as a young woman, spent several years living with and getting to know the !Kung, and recorded her observations in her personal journals.  Her older brother, John, spent most of his life with these people, working tirelessly on their behalf, and even married a Ju/wasi woman.

Like most people, I'd heard about the "Bushmen of the Kalahari" as a boy, but really had no idea what that meant, or really who these people were.  In a nutshell, the !Kung are an ancient people that have essentially lived a nomadic Paleolithic lifestyle in the Kalahari Desert for more than 20,000 years.  Interestingly too, with the recent completion of the Human Genome Project, we now know that these people are some of the most ancient and genetically diverse anatomically modern humans (i.e., Homo sapiens) on the planet.  If you will, the !Kung peoples are the 'rootstock' of most of us.  And as such, I think a book like that which Ms. Thomas has written is incredibly important for all of us to read and think about.  In other words, this book has the capability of putting us firmly in touch with who we were, and who we are. 

The !Kung also speak an incredibly ancient language--one of the African 'click' languages--a mix of phonemes and click sounds made with the palate, lips, tongue, or cheeks.  Linguists believe that the click language that the !Kung speak is at least 60,000 years old, and may rank as one of humanity's oldest existing languages.  In reading this book I discovered that utilizing a click language actually makes great sense when living and hunting in a dangerously hostile environment like the Kalahari, as the click sounds tend to blend in and sound more 'natural' and don't alarm prey or alert potential predators like spoken words can.

Ms. Thomas starts off talking about the relationship of these people to the 1,500 centuries, or more, of modern human existence; and up until the mid-1960s, not much had changed from the way our Paleolithic ancestors lived some 60,000-70,000 years ago.  She then described the complex relationship that the !Kung had with their environment and the animals that occupied the Kalahari and that the people depended upon for meat.  The heart of the book is that these were peoples that were completely connected to the habitat and ecology around them.  They intimately understood the habits of all of the animals and and habitat preferences and uses for the plant species of the savannah and desert. Ms. Thomas describes in fascinating detail how plants are gathered and used among the people, marriage and the importance of lineage, how children were raised, how animals were hunted, religious and mythological beliefs, the interactions and social fabric of the family dynamic and small collections of families that lived and migrated together.  There is even a whole chapter on the relationship of the !Kung with the top predators of the Kalahari, African lions, leopards, and spotted hyenas.

Inevitably though time and the new way of human life caught up to this remote corner of the world, and Thomas reports that by the 1990s most of the Bushmen, including the !Kung, had been forced off of their natural ranges and now live in government-sponsored shanty towns and have largely given up their hunter-gatherer subsistence lifestyle.  And similar to what has happened to many Native American peoples in the United States, it has been a very difficult transition for many of them in trying to adapt to the new ways of 'modern' living.  It made me sad to think that these people, so lovingly described and respected by Ms. Thomas in this book, really no longer exist.  Sure, there are still Bushmen living in southwestern Africa near their old homelands in the Kalahari Desert, but they're not living "The Old Way" as the "First People" any longer, and that, I think, is a loss for all of humanity.

In conclusion, I highly recommend this book, and count it as a non-fiction favorite read for 2013, and is certainly a book that I will undoubtedly revisit sometime in the future.

The Old Way--A Story of the First People
By Elizabeth Marshall Thomas
Hardcover, 344 pp.
Farrar Strauss Giroux, 2006
ISBN 0374225524

***

Review: "Deadhouse Gates" By Steven Erikson

Deadhouse Gates is the second book in Steven Erikson’s brilliant and uber-epic ten-volume fantasy series, "The Malazan Book of the Fallen" (MBotF).  I think this is now the third time I’ve read this book and it still remains one of my favorites.  Deadhouse Gates is nothing short of a ‘nail-biter’ from the get-go and the pacing is utterly relentless.  I have to say that Deadhouse Gates is an easier read than Erikson’s first book in the MBotF series, Gardens of the Moon, and much of that is because the reader is slowly, but surely, becoming more familiar with Erikson’s writing style and more comfortable with the unique qualities of the Malazan world that he has crafted.

In my opinion, Deadhouse Gates is a fine example of what I truly love the most about the MBotF series, and that is Erikson’s ability to make his readers empathize with the characters in his books.  One thing that really impresses me about Erikson’s characters is that they are all typically people that the reader can relate to, and there are really very few, if any, characters that aren’t flawed in one fashion or another.  Also, Erikson’s MBotF characters exhibit a strong dose of egalitarianism, as men and women in the books commonly occupy positions of authority and responsibility across all walks of life in the Malazan world.

Much of Deadhouse Gates occurs on the continent of “Seven Cities” and introduces a whole new cast of characters from those presented in Gardens of the Moon.  Never fear though, of the multiple story arcs in Deadhouse Gates, one arc does involve a small group of characters that the reader met in Gardens of the Moon and who become quite important to the storyline in this episode.  As is typical of Erikson novels in the MBotF series, there are plots and sub-plots galore swirling around throughout this 600+ page book (trade-paperback edition), and each of them is an attention-grabber, and at times contain a powerful ‘punch to the gut’.

Without giving away anything of significance away, Deadhouse Gates revolves around the rebellion of many of the subjugated peoples of the Seven Cities continent.  This rebellion is known as “The Whirlwind” and is intended to rid the continent of all of the Malazan occupiers, both administrative and military.  The main plot of the novel is one that just takes your breath away—that of the tactical retreat of the Malazan Seventh Army over several hundred leagues from one city to another.  The Malazan Seventh is commanded by Coltaine, a Wickan Crow Clan warchief, and now a Fist (General) in the Malazan Army.  Fist Coltaine and many of the other Wickan characters are some of my favorites in the entire MBotF series, and the Wickan Clans themselves—with names like “Foolish Dog Clan”, “Weasel Clan, and “Crow Clan”—reminded me of some of the Native American tribes that so effectively battled the U.S. Army in the latter half of the 19th century.

Honestly, the story of the Seventh Army’s retreat across the landscape of Seven Cities is truly nothing short of epic, as Coltaine must try and not only preserve the fighting capacity of the Seventh Army, but protect more than 50,000 refugees that his forces are endeavoring to shepherd to safety.  This plot thread that weaves through much of the novel becomes known as “Coltaine’s Chain of Dogs”, a moniker of significant distinction and pride to the members of the Seventh Army, as well as the rest of the Malazan Empire. As a veteran of the military myself, there was something in this story of the “Chain of Dogs” that truly tugged at the heartstrings of my very soul, and I cannot begin to tell you how many times while reading about the desperate attempts of the Seventh Army to survive its horrifying trek across Seven Cities that I had to set the book aside for a few moments and simply let the tears roll down my cheeks.  While at times a terribly tragic story, the tale of Coltaine’s “Chain of Dogs” is also one that exhibits the finest qualities of humanity—courage, compassion, comradeship, and Love. 

Erikson's description of this epic journey, and the battles fought along the way, rivals any that have been written about in numerous superb non-fiction military histories.  Examples that immediately come to mind include the U.S. Continental Army’s retreat from New York to Valley Forge, or Napoleon’s Grande Armee’s retreat from Russia, or Field Marshal von Manstein's strategic retreat of several German armies across the frozen steppes of southern Russia in early 1942 (after the fall of Stalingrad).  Erikson’s tale of the “Chain of Dogs” in Deadhouse Gates is some of the best military fiction I’ve ever read, and should appeal to readers with even a passing interest in military or historical fiction or non-fiction.

But wait, there’s even more—So much more!  Deadhouse Gates is also chock full of important plot and story lines that really help to begin to open up the full breadth and scope of the Malazan world to the reader.  There are significant tie-backs to important events and happenings in Gardens of the Moon, as well as explanations of the fascinating and complex system of magic and sorcery, and loads of new information about the mythology and significance of the pantheon of gods and goddesses who occupy the Malazan world.  Deadhouse Gates can perhaps be best characterized as the ‘tale of multiple journeys’, with Coltaine’s “Chain of the Dogs” being the centerpiece, but there are also the journeys of several other groups of characters that are just as meaningful to the overall plot and are very, very important to future episodes in the MBotF series.

I continue to be completely blown away with the sheer quality of the writing, the plotting, the character development, the pacing, the pathos and drama, and the sheer inventiveness and originality of the world that Erikson has created. Mr. Erikson doesn't pull his punches, this is truly some hard, bleak, and dark fiction; and it is at times viscerally tragic and profoundly sad.  At the same time though, Erikson soars to heights almost unknown in fantasy fiction with his moments of triumph, success, and the joy of experiencing those fleeting instants of pure and unbridled goodness and humanity.

In closing, I highly and unhesitatingly recommend this series; and, in my opinion, Deadhouse Gates is much more than a quantum step forward from the first novel in the series, Gardens of the Moon.  Deadhouse Gates was the book in the MBotF series that cemented my love affair with all things Malazan.  Read Deadhouse Gates--you’ll become a believer too!

Deadhouse Gates
By Steven Erikson
Tor Books, 2005
Trade Paperback Edition, 608 pp
ISBN-0765314290

***

Review: "The Child Thief" By Brom

I am now an unabashed fan of the artwork and writing of Brom.  I recently finished reading Brom's The Child Thief, a dark--and very much adult--retelling of J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan.  Frankly, based upon this novel, I'm willing to suggest that Brom is America's answer to British author Neil Gaiman, with the ability to take the folklore and fairy tales of the ages and give them a thoroughly modern spin.  Even setting aside Brom's gorgeous art that graces this novel, the tale itself is a sophisticated amalgam of elements from Celtic mythology, Arthurian legend, and American history, and it really, really works well.  Having said this, this is not the 'Peter Pan' of your youth, and most certainly is not the 'Peter Pan' and 'Tinkerbelle' of the Disney cartoon.  Nope, this is some seriously dark stuff that continually tugs at the heart-strings, horrifies, and even amuses as it deals with things like friendship, loyalty, belief and faith, and love.  Something tells me that J.M. Barrie would very much approve of Brom's interpretation and retelling of 'Peter Pan' in this book.  I really need to see if I can find a hardcover edition of The Child Thief, as this is a book to cherish and reread, and add to my growing collection of the tales of mythology and faerie.  This gets a solid five out of five stars from me, a genuine favorite.

The Child Thief
By Brom
Harper Voyager, Trade Paperback, 2009
476 pp.
ISBN 0061671339

***

Review: "Red Country" By Joe Abercrombie

Wow!  Joe Abercrombie's Red Country is one of the first books that I've read in 2013, and I'll wager that it ends up being one of the best I've read this year.  I found the dark gritty fiction of Abercrombie a few years ago when I read his First Law trilogy (2006-2008), and then followed it up with his brilliant, and my favorite, novel, The Heroes (2011).  Red Country is right up there with The Heroes and is somehow an incredibly clever blend of cinematic gorefest ala Sam Peckinpah and the unrelenting violence and pathos of the writing of Cormac McCarthy; and while Red Country is a fantasy novel of the first order, it reads and feels like a western.

The plot is really quite simple.  Farms in the hinterlands have been burned, people brutally killed, and a lot of children have been captured and kidnapped by a gang of desperadoes.  The novel's primary protagonists are all a group of misfits and deeply flawed characters that have come together to trek across a brutal landscape, some in search of the missing children, others in pursuit of gold, and others just trying to find themselves and start new lives.  'Shy South' and 'Lamb', a father-figure to Shy and her younger siblings, are in pursuit of the kidnapped children.  And if you've read any of Abercrombie's earlier novels you'll be delighted as you encounter a goodly number of rogues who reappear in Red Country.  Additionally, there is a whole group of fascinating new characters that range from utterly monstrous and despicable to some that are honorable and good-hearted.  Having said that though, it is amazing to me that at times it is still hard to sort out who is really good and who is really bad, and that is solely a function of the quality of Abercrombie's plotting and writing.

Abercrombie has a way with words and can truly turn a phrase.  One thing I've come to expect when reading his fiction is the earthy and pithy philosophical one- or two-liners from his characters.  They're really quite priceless, and I've taken to marking them as I encounter them whilst reading.  Here's a sampler of Abercrombie witticisms--

My old commander Sazine once told me you should laugh every moment you live, for you'll find it decidedly difficult afterward.

'Severed heads,'Cosca was explaining, 'never go out of fashion.  Used sparingly and with artistic sensibility, they can make a point a great deal more eloquently than those still attached.'

There is no bad living, and no good death.

The bottle's a shifty banker--it might lend you courage but it's apt to call the debt in sudden.

'Death loves me.' Lamb smiled, black-eyed, wet-eyed, and the smile was worse even than the snarl had been. 'All the work I done for him? The crowds I've sent his way? He knows he ain't got no better friends.'

'Why does everyone pout so over children?' Cosca called after him. 'They'll turn out just as old and disappointing as the rest of us.'

'Men are animals.  Conscience is a burden we choose to bear.  Morality is the lie we tell ourselves to make its bearing easier.'

Well, you get the picture.  Abercrombie sure can write, and Red Country is a relentless torrent of words and writing that simply compels you to keep reading and turning pages, one after the other until you reach the immensely satisfying conclusion.  This is a great book with awesome characters that is sure to please any reader encountering Abercrombie for the first time.  If you've had the pleasure of reading any of Abercrombie's other books, oh are you in for a hell of a delightful surprise.  Finally, even if you're the type of reader who swears they don't like fantasy fiction, give Red Country a try, I'm gonna bet that you're gonna find Abercrombie's fiction is well worth it and in the 'wheel-house' of many, many readers.  Red Country gets a solid five out of five stars from me.

Red Country
By Joe Abercrombie
Orbit Books, 2012
453 pp.
ISBN 9780316187213

***