«Venezia è anche un sogno, di quelli che puoi comperare»

I started reading "The Aspern Papers" for two reasons. For some time now, I've had a strong desire to read something by Henry James - and this is already strange because I've only read "The Portrait of a Lady" and so I can't claim to be an expert or passionate about this author. Nevertheless, I very much want to return to "breathe" something of his, something from the 19th century but American. And because, starting to read Stefan Zweig's autobiography "The World of Yesterday", I strongly felt the call of Venetian decadence, that finis austriae atmosphere which, although politically far from the Serene City and still historically to come, had already begun to envelop it and isolate it like a pearl in its oyster.

The story is simple and linear: a young and passionate critic of the famous and deceased poet Jeffrey Aspern manages, through deception, to be given some rooms for rent by the Bordereau ladies, the now very old Juliana - the poet's muse in his youth - and her niece Miss Tina.

The critic's goal, who is also the narrator of the novel, is to get hold of some letters - hence the carteggio of the title - that Aspern wrote to the very young Juliana during their idyll.

Less linear, however, are the psychological aspects of the three characters, their behaviors - often unpredictable - the maze of rooms in the old gray and pink palace where the whole story takes place, as mysterious and impenetrable as the inextricable canals of the lagoon.

To complete the picture, there are the lapping of the waters, the slow passing of a gondola at night, voices and murmurs in the fog, sudden flashes of light and the splendid writing, refined and decadent, of Henry James.

Rather than claustrophobic, as this novel is defined in many comments, I would define it as immobile; although its immobility is only apparent because within these pages an entire era moves: an era that now, like Venice, rests on the water and of which only the reflection can be grasped.

Sipario! Anzi, no.

I had read it in the comment of @Procyon Lotor that a chapter or maybe more was missing, but I had forgotten about it.

Yesterday, reading "Giro di Vite", this story came back to my mind and I went to look for an online version to first find out if it was true.

It was true. In the version published by I Grandi della Narrativa di Repubblica in the translation of Nadia Fusini (not exactly pizza and figs), not one chapter is missing, but at least three.

Here, I feel more or less like the spectators at that cineforum in Bologna who some months ago watched the screening of "Tree of Life", Terrence Malick's latest masterpiece, "upside down" without realizing anything.

http://corrieredibologna.corriere.it/...

Now, I can say in my defense - In attesa di conoscere nomi e cognomi di quelli che gli hanno dato quattro o cinque stelle senza accorgersi che manca il capitolo finale of @PL has fallen on my pride as a reader like an ax - that "The Aspern Papers" worked very well even like this; the missing part doesn't add any clamorous revelation to the story, except that it completely deprives it of that irony that we were talking about three in my feedbacks; irony that I wasn't able to grasp and that instead shines in all its glory in the cut chapters of this unfortunate edition.

I wonder, but how is it possible? James had run out of ink and first published a reduced version and then, after having bought it, published another one. Was Fusini in a joking mood, or did those at Repubblica completely mess up?

In the meantime, irony for irony, that of James and that of fate, I add the fifth star.

The Aspern Papers:
This story has all the makings of great and early James.

An ambitious and ambivalent man, a woman scorned turned scornful, a ghostly figure set to watch with stormy eyes over the wrongs committed on the page, and black gondolas like lacquered coffins drifting through the midnight hung canals of Venice.

There is no true romance to this tale-- the one the reader is interested in is long buried and its ghosts kept hidden-- and the false admiration between the narrator and Tina is heartbreakingly awkward to watch as you know their desires and that no good can come to either of them.

The most captivating elements are left off the page, and we are solely given the narrator's ambitious and cold point of view. He frequently panics over his endeavors and calculates his actions and costs with all the sterility of an accountant rather than a scholar of poetry.

We wish to read from the point of view of Aunt Juliana or Niece Tina, whose private lives, appearing only in snippets, seem far more rich, complex, and fascinating than that which our nameless narrator offers.

But by only having his voice, we understand his frustration, a real frustration many feel when their goals are to pry into the lives of others-- frequently the charge of critics and biographers-- and so, we are as much intrigued by the Aspern papers as our narrator is and we cannot help but pity ourselves by the end, although we reserve our sympathy from him.

"I'm sorry to say it, but there's no baseness I wouldn't commit for Jeffery Aspern's sake" states the unnamed narrator of Henry James' short story. And he holds true to his promise.

The narrator is a scholar and a writer, his focus of concentration is a long dead poet called Aspern. From his research, he gleans that there are a collection of unpublished letters and papers of Aspern's locked away in the house of the poet's former love and muse.

With hopes of retrieving these papers for his professional gain, the narrator takes off to Venice with a pocket full of money and a lack of propriety and sensitivity.

The former muse, Juliana, has a niece who is neither young nor pretty, and the narrator supposes he can woo the younger woman and so push his way in toward the papers.

Knowing Juliana to be old and in need of funds, he presents himself as a hopeful lodger at her door, and she, suspicious but poor, allows him in, intelligently charging a large sum for a period of no less than six months.

The narrator tries to beguile the women with flowers he grows in the long-neglected garden and offering the use of his gondola, but nothing works until he plants himself to the task of seducing the unattractive niece, Tina.

Juliana doesn't warm to the idea of his endeavor but sees there might be a way to manipulate him not only into paying an extraordinary amount for his lodging but also into marrying Tina. (Juliana's only goal is to secure financial security for her ward before her death).

He plays along, taking Tina on midnight gondola rides, pretending to speak to her candidly, and manipulating her as best he can. He hopes Tina will be able to steal the papers for him, or at least to keep them safe as he fears Juliana will destroy them before her death (which cannot be far off, he assumes, as she is said to be 150 years old).

However, when Juliana falls ill, he becomes desperate and sneaks into her apartments and tries to pry open a chest of drawers he believes the letters to be kept inside. Juliana discovers him and he flees, embarrassed and mortified.

Upon learning of her death (presumably caused by his thwarted burglary), the narrator returns to console Tina, yet still with both eyes on finding the letters. She offers to give them to him if he will marry her, but he cannot lower himself to do that, and escapes.

But upon further consideration he swallows his pride and returns, believing his bachelorhood a high but affordable price for the letters. Upon his return, Tina bids him goodbye and explains she has burnt the letters one by one. He leaves in anger over his professional loss, but oddly hurt by being jilted.

The Turn of the Screw:
A ghost story more terrifying upon reflection than when being read.

For all my excitement over finally committing myself to reading this iconic story, and despite my profound love for everything Henry James committed to paper, I oddly found "The Turn of the Screw" to be slightly tedious.

I'm more frightened of my recollections of the scenes-- the face of Peter Quint staring in through the window pane, silent and pale; Miss Jessel paused at the side of the pond, head-cocked and eyes hungry; the corpse of young Miles collapsed in the twilight grayness of the window into his governesses' arms.

My problem with James' execution of events was that he wrote too much, dull thoughts and descriptions, expositions that seemed mechanical.

I understand this might be the flaw of his narrator, for this is her manuscript, and, because she wants her account to be taken seriously, she may have run on too long with her worry and comprehension of occurrences.

I assume it is the narrator's fault, but it took away from the horror for me, and for that I blame James. He should have given his narrator a better economy in the heightened horror situations so that they'd have settled more ominously upon the reader, rather than a sentence of happening followed by twenty sentences of ball and chain exposition.

This is my completely reading into this, but I got the odd sense that the spirits of Miss Jessel and Peter Quint had come to molest the children.

Although this is not explicitly said-- for nothing in the story is explicitly said-- I felt that the corruption of the children had to do, not so much of their awareness of the love affair between Jessel and Quint before their deaths, but with hands-on destruction of innocence.

Although there was the affair, my assumption is that Miss. Jessel desired little Flora and Peter Quint desired Miles-- not to seize their bodies as some form of snatching voodoo-- as sexual partners.

Each ghost stalks their own child, not bothering with the other (Miss Jessel pursues Flora, as Quint looks out for Miles). And the ghosts are never seen interacting with one another.

Wouldn't two lovers torn apart by untimely death be searching for their beloved, rather than haunting their respective, former charges?

The chaste but frantic intimacy with which the current governess (our narrator) tends to the children makes me wonder over the intimacies shared between the former governess, Miss Jessel, and Flora.

Then there is the matter of what Miles said at school that was so "corrupting". Although we never find out the contents of his words, we do know he said them to "those [he] liked".

My wonder is if he was speaking of witnessing the affair of Miss. Jessel and Peter Quint or was he speaking of his own encounters with Quint-- my assumption is the latter would be more likely to be shoved under the rug by the headmaster and the boy expelled for sharing what would be assumed to be "corrupting" lies.

Flora is lured to the pond by Miss. Jessel, where she has been plucking withered ferns. My reading here is that Miss. Jessel would often take the child to this spot and so, as with the plucking of foliage, deflower the girl.

Of course, this is all my odd conjecture into the short novel, but I wonder if there is something to it or if it only is the story of remnants traveling alone on their own, separate plains.

The Turn of the Screw was truly a remarkable piece of literature. It was quite good, yet presented a challenge to read due to its gothic language. The story was filled with a subtle mystery that kept the reader on the edge of their seat, along with non-so-subtle supernatural elements that were truly gripping. However, the ending left me, at least, still pondering a few unresolved matters. It was as if the author had deliberately left some loose ends, perhaps to encourage further speculation and discussion.

I had no preconceived notions about what to expect from The Aspern Papers. To my surprise, I found it easier to follow than The Turn of the Screw. I even took great pleasure in its lovely Venetian setting, which added a touch of charm and elegance to the story. The narrator's attempt to outwit the old lady who possessed the papers in question was both entertaining and engaging. I'm not entirely certain if I liked the ending or not. On one hand, it seemed to be what the narrator deserved, given his actions throughout the story. On the other hand, it left me with a sense of ambiguity and a desire for more closure.

Well, you truly have to focus intently on the prose in this particular work; be ready to pay close attention.

A classic story presents a classic question. Did everything truly occur as the governess narrates it? Were the children indeed possessed by the malevolent spirits of their deceased servants? Or was the governess really a half-crazed, repressed old maid, a victim of Victorian society who in turn victimized her young charges? I lean towards the former, yet either option is terrifying in its own distinct way.

Although a particular type of woman, from a specific stratum of British Victorian society, might have been severely oppressed by the morals and social expectations of that era, this is largely a myth. After all, the very era is named after a woman. The same society also gave rise to women such as Christina Rossetti, May Morris, Evelyn de Morgan, Marie Correlli, Elizabeth Gaskell, Beatrix Potter, Ada Lovelace, and many others. Clearly, this could not have happened if the conditions were as 'anti-woman' as is commonly believed.

I have witnessed three different film adaptations of this book. The first, titled "The Innocents", features acting in the old school melodrama style, but the appearance of the black & white film is perfect; it is very gothic. Bly House and the entire estate have that charming, eerie look. The last one, titled "The Turn of the Screw", with an interesting twist, is set in the 1960's. Despite the modern costuming, the story remains faithful to the novel. The cinematography is not as atmospheric as the black & white version, being much more sunlit, yet still visually appealing.

I am aware that some readers have difficulties with the prose of Henry James. However, the story is well worth adapting your reading style for; it is just a novella. This book will not appeal to fans of gore and bloodshed.

James was an outstanding writer in the field of dark fiction during his era. He crafted some truly remarkable works, and among them, these two particular pieces stand out for me.

Their elegance is captivating, with a twisted and chilling quality that sends shivers down your spine. It's like indulging in a rich dessert that demands your full attention.

Each sentence is carefully constructed, like a delicate layer of a decadent cake. You can't help but slow down and savor every single word, every nuance, every little detail.

James has a unique ability to create a world that is both terrifying and alluring, drawing you in and making you reluctant to leave. His writing is a masterclass in the art of dark fiction, and these two works are a testament to his talent and creativity.

Whether you're a fan of the genre or simply looking for something different to read, I highly recommend giving these stories a try. You won't be disappointed.

The Turn of the Screw is a truly haunting and creepy novella that was published in 1898.

It tells the story of a female caretaker who is in charge of two orphaned children in the country home of their uncle. The caretaker becomes convinced that the house and its grounds are haunted.

However, the other people who are employed at the residence do not seem to be having the same experiences as the nanny. This leads to a sense of mystery and uncertainty.

Is there really something evil lurking around the country estate, or is the entire scenario playing out only in the mind of the nanny?

It is left up to the reader to decide the truth. Is the nanny sane? Is this a true haunting?

The unreliable narrator of the story makes it an extremely difficult decision.

And what about the ending of this tragic story? Is it supernaturally solved or is it criminal?

These questions add to the overall sense of unease and mystery that pervades the entire novella.

It is a story that will stay with you long after you have finished reading it.

The Turn of the Screw is an incredible narrative that has the power to make every chapter send shivers down your spine. It fills us with more doubts than answers, leaving us in a state of constant speculation.

This book is unique in that it points out more suggestions than affirmations, allowing the reader to form their own reflections, criticisms, and conclusions. The short chapters are filled with ambiguous dialogues that go beyond the realm of verbal language. They are also present in the descriptions of the characters' emotions, features, and expressions, which sometimes reveal more than their actual speech.

Henry James uses elements such as a scream, a cry, an escape, and a hysterical laugh in an exceptional way. The ambiguity is so pervasive in this script that we start to question what and who is truly real. The suggestions even extend to the age and sexual gender of the characters, and there is a subliminal questioning of the relationship between morality, sex, perversion, anger, hatred, chastity, and religiosity.

Some dialogues are entirely suggestive in this regard, and it is as if the author places the reader as an agent of the novel. Henry James accomplishes this in an absurdly creative and engaging way. In some excerpts, it is common to read dialogues like "you already know," "do you really already know everything?" or "are you sure about this?"

It is fascinating to see how these questions receive different responses not only from readers but also from cinematographic adaptations. For example, "The Innocents," with a script signed by Truman Capote, features an interesting Freudian conjecture in its interpretations. "The Others," starring Nicole Kidman, is another great and scary film based on this book.

This is a wonderful example of how literature can open up the relationships between fictional characters, the author, and the reader, bringing ambiguity to the experience of reading, imagination, and reality. And it also leaves us with a doubt: maybe I saw something in that hallway. Is it the result of my imagination or some kind of ghost? : )

James is always delving into the realm of thwarted desire and/or sexual repression, much like what was present in the man's own life.

In "Screw," the governess's sublimated sexuality ultimately drives her to become a mental case. She allows her fantasies of corruption to destroy two children. Are the kiddies truly innocent? I don't think so, yet they are sweet. The (deceiving) framework of this story is that of a ghost story, which manages to fool the unsuspecting reader.

In "Aspern," a naive and repressed editor attempts to persuade a crusty dowager and her cock-hungry niece to part with some historic papers. However, the ladies have a sexual price in mind. In James's works, the depths of feeling can only be hinted at or whispered. He is a romantic at heart, but the very mention of certain secretions makes him blush. I truly love the intricate game-play that James presents in his stories. It's almost as if he is mirroring real life with all its complex emotions and hidden desires.

Taking into account that this was written ages ago, it is a rather remarkable horror story.

The characters are constantly shrouded in an aura of mystery, not only regarding their intentions but also their very sanity.

The uncertainty lingers throughout the narrative, keeping the reader on the edge of their seat.

Surprisingly, the ending is quite good.

Although it leaves us with more questions than answers, I firmly believe that this is precisely the essence of the entire story.

We are left to grapple with the unknown, to speculate and wonder about what truly happened.

Perhaps this ambiguity is what makes the story so captivating and memorable.

It forces us to confront our own fears and uncertainties, and in doing so, it taps into the very core of our human nature.

Overall, this horror story is a testament to the power of mystery and the enduring appeal of the unknown.

I must admit that I did not care one bit for the Aspern Papers.

However, I thoroughly enjoyed The Turn of the Screw!

It had a certain charm that reminded me a little bit of The Woman in Black.

The eerie atmosphere and the sense of mystery that pervaded the story made it a great October read!

I found myself completely engrossed in the narrative, eagerly turning the pages to find out what would happen next.

The characters were well-developed and the plot was full of twists and turns that kept me on the edge of my seat.

Overall, I would highly recommend The Turn of the Screw to anyone who enjoys a good ghost story or a thrilling mystery.

It is a classic piece of literature that has stood the test of time and continues to captivate readers today.

So, if you're looking for a great book to read this October, give The Turn of the Screw a try! You won't be disappointed.

It wasn't as good as I remembered. Is anything ever? This simple thought often crosses our minds when we look back on past experiences or revisit places we once loved. We build up these memories in our minds, creating an idealized version of what things were like. But when we face the reality again, it often falls short of our expectations.

Maybe it's a childhood toy that seemed so magical back then, but now looks ordinary and worn. Or a vacation spot that we remembered as paradise, only to find it crowded and commercialized. Even relationships can sometimes lose their shine when we compare them to the memories we have stored away.

However, it's important to remember that our memories are not always accurate. They are filtered through our emotions and perspectives at the time. So, instead of being disappointed when reality doesn't match our memories, we should try to appreciate the present moment for what it is. Maybe it won't be as perfect as we remembered, but it can still have its own unique charm and value.

I was originally planning on purchasing "The Turn", which was priced at 3 euros. However, to my pleasant surprise, I came across this particular edition that offered two stories for the exact same price. At first, I didn't really expect to have much interest in the second story. I thought that perhaps I would only focus on and enjoy the first one. But as I started reading, something quite unexpected happened. I found myself getting completely engrossed in both of the stories. The plots were engaging, the characters were well-developed, and the writing was captivating. Before I knew it, I had finished reading both stories and was left with a sense of satisfaction. It just goes to show that sometimes, you can stumble upon something truly wonderful when you least expect it.

It was a great discovery, and I'm really glad that I chose this edition instead of the single-story one. I would highly recommend it to anyone who is looking for an entertaining read.