May 31, 2008

Alyson Rudd gives the Books group's verdict on The House of Mirth

I AM LEFT FEELING that House of Mirth is incredible; not a description that I would normally apply to a classic novel. Edith Wharton guides us through genial banter, cutting sarcasm, pouting prettiness, devastating beauty, comedy and tragedy and we follow her trail.

Why do we care so much about Lily, who is spoilt and self-centred? Wharton cleverly allows us an early glimpse of her heroine's tendency towards recklessness and we root for her. Why shouldn't Lily be allowed to take tea with a young male acquaintance? This one act of defiance in the face of convention ruins her life. Who wouldn't be sympathetic?

And for all Lily's flaws, those around her are, for the most part, far more despicable. I disagree with Jean Marshall, who thinks that Wharton showed kindness when describing the nouveau riche of New York. I felt that Wharton was at best amused by them, perhaps occasionally in awe. It was a full-time job maintaining social status in turn-of-the- century America. Lily knows what it takes but lacks ruthlessness. Romance nags at her soul, and we care for her to the point of tears.

Star letter

Who are the villains in this book? Selden? He tries to help Lily and she refuses to accept, so he can hardly be called a villain. Mrs Penison, Lily's aunt, who refuses to bail her out and later on punishes her by reducing her legacy? Perhaps, but she believes such actions are needed to make Lily come to her senses and curb her lifestyle. Rosedale, who courts Lily when she still has social status to confer by marriage, but who drops the idea when she hasn't? Perhaps he is halfway to being a villain, but he is only reflecting the ideas of his time. Bertha Dorset, who publicly dumps and shames Lily? Gus Trenor, who lends Lily money, tricking her into a relationshiup? Yes, here are genuine villains, who use others in her personal games.

But the real villain, I think, is the system at that time, which defined a woman solely in terms of her reputation, but denied her any means to protect it.

John Hickman, Milton Keynes

May 17, 2008

Is The House of Mirth still relevant in 2008? Alyson Rudd thinks so

CLASSIC NOVELS THAT DEAL with power, greed or lust are obviously timeless. But what is the relevance of The House of Mirth, a novel that is about the predicament of a woman who needs to marry well or be doomed? Today, women own businesses, practise law and become doctors. Girls regularly achieve better grades than boys in exams. Surely Lily Bart, a 29-year-old woman obsessed with her appearance and damned for taking afternoon tea with a bachelor, is an anachronism, a quirk of a character from a society that was obscene and laughable.

If that were true then The House of Mirth would merely be of passing interest, offering a snippet of life in turn-of-the-century New York. For the book to pack a punch, Lily has to feel real and contemporary. And she does. There was close to a media frenzy this week in response to the premiere of Sex and the City, a film about four New York women who spend far too long gazing longingly at pink strappy sandals costing $400. Lily Bart falls into debt so she can wear the most fashionable dresses to the parties she attends.

There are cliques today just as daunting as the one Lily was part of. If a WAG eschews Gucci for a grungy sweater and porky thighs, she is every bit as doomed as Lily feels she would be if she defies convention. Lily is interesting because she is not quite as shallow as we first assume. If she had no scruples whatsoever she would marry purely for money, own two houses, throw massive parties and take a lover when she was bored.

Anyone who has traded in a car because theirs was the oldest on the street, or bought a new little black dress for fear of wearing the same thing twice knows exactly how Lily feels. For Edith Wharton's heroine, however, the stakes were higher than suffering mild self-consciousness. Sarah Jessica Parker's Carrie can fall back on her career whenever her efforts to snare a man fail. Lily was neither educated nor trained for anything but a life of material luxury provided for by a husband. That the two characters have so much in common serves only to make Lily seem truly courageous.

THE KEY QUESTIONS

Is Lily's fate sealed from the first chapter?

How does Wharton prevent her villains from becoming caricatures?

Is Selden weak or an idealist?

Is the ending brave or sentimental?

No money, no vocation: Margaret Reynolds explores a woman's place in 1905

The House of Mirth comes in a long line of books about women and money. At the beginning Lily Bart is horrified to realise that she has lost $300 in one evening at the bridge table. At the end, she swiftly disperses the $10,000 - just inherited from her aunt - in paying off her accumulated bills.

Lily has problems, but they were not uncommon in 1905. Lawrence Selden thinks of her as “a captured dryad subdued to the conventions of the drawing room”. But the constraints that bind her are more than mere social invention.

Lily likes luxury, but she is poor. If she had been an heiress such as Eva Palmer (of Huntley & Palmers biscuits) or Winnaretta Singer (as in the sewing machine) then she could have gone off to Paris and found herself a Greek intellectual or a French prince (as each did, respectively). Or, like Natalie Barney (the railway car heiress), she could have stayed single, entertaining lovers of whatever kind.

Lily has artistic aspiration, but no talent. If she had had a calling she would not have cared about the world, but gone her own way, dedicated to her art, like the dancer Isadora Duncan and her friend, the sculptor Kathleen Bruce.

Lily has intellect and feeling, but no congenial company in which to develop. Because she is dependent on the goodwill of her dull relations and the hostesses of her social circle, she cannot find an outlet in her work, like Virginia Woolf, or Edith Wharton herself. Lily has compassion and will, but no vocation. So she cannot give her energies to a cause such as the suffragette campaigner Emmeline Pankhurst or the scientist Marie Curie. Above all, Lily has no husband and, therefore, no social standing. And to get a husband she has to guard her reputation. She fails to do that.

Lily's was an ordinary tragedy in 1905. Many women suffered because they were without status, privacy, reputation, money or work. Above all, they were without self-respect.

April 26, 2008

Alyson Rudd introduces a classic tale of greed and ambition

THE HOUSE OF MIRTH is, quite simply, gorgeous. I was not at all surprised to learn that it was a hit the moment it was published in 1905, for it offers a scathing and amusing insight into the lives of the rich and famous of New York. Edith Wharton pokes fun at hypocrisy, snobbery and ambition. Anyone who assumed that America is based on a classless society can think again; class is everything.

The novel is also about love - or at least how difficult it is to be in love with someone from the wrong social group. It all starts so promisingly for Lily Bart, the central character. We are introduced to her through the eyes of Lawrence Seldon, a young lawyer. It is stiflingly hot in the city but the mere sight of Lily refreshes him. Lily is bored of society's archaic rules, but not so bored that she forgets her main aim in life; to marry money. Lawrence is respectable and intelligent but simply nowhere near wealthy enough for someone like Lily.

We admire her, then despise her, then pity her. Lily has courage, but not enough. She is ruthless but not as ruthless as her enemies - and there are plenty of those. The novel is packed with shallow and greedy characters so that the few acts of kindness shine brightly. New York's nouveau riche want status and will destroy their best friends' reputations to get it.

Lily tries to succeed in a world of malice, gossip and adultery. Lawrence can drift through this world and mock it if he wishes, but Lily does not have the escape route of a profession. She needs to inherit or marry into money, or be destroyed.

The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton
Virago, £7.99 Buy the book here

Times Recommends

• Sarah Palin and the Palindromes: 7 extraordinary connections
• Physics for Future Presidents: The Podcasts
• 10 Books Not To Read Before You Die