undine literally the julia fox of her time

GR just ate my review, which irks me greatly. En bref, though, I'd just finished saying that I thought this to be better written perhaps than either Mirth or Innocence, though I realize that is quite a claim. Certainly it is more ill-tempered than either—crueller than Flaubert, in terms of least number of likeable characters (exactly none). Undine may in fact be one of the first literary sociopaths. Savage, petty, bitter, brutal, laugh-out-loud-and-then-moan funny—I almost began rereading it as soon as I'd finished. Definitely goes in my top 25 novels. I want to send all y'all my copy, except I can't bear to part with it.

One of the most brilliant novels I've ever read.

Wharton plots The Custom of the Country with the momentum of the scrappiest crime fiction, her prose as glisteningly elegant as the best of James and Fitzgerald and her social critique evoking the likes of Eliot, Dickens, and Hardy. Written in quasi-omniscient third-person POV, this novel scrutinizes conspicuous consumption, class performance, and marriage as social currency, all within the context of distilled narrative drama. Undine is a fascinatingly immoral character with shades of Thackeray's Becky Sharp, a sort of secret agent driven by consumerist self-interest who constantly shapeshifts to meet her social world's codes.

A very good read, although I didn't find it as moving as The House of Mirth.

What a 'heroine' Edith Wharton has created in Undine. I spent most of the book longing for her to get her comeuppance. You'll have to read the book yourself to find out whether or not she did!

There was a part near the middle where I thought the story was becoming a bit slow moving, but the final third certainly ratcheted things up. I thought the description of the Chateau de Saint Desert was brilliant.

Definitely worth reading.

If I had to choose an author who has created one of the most selfish, snooty and self-absorbed leading ladies, I think Edith Wharton would be a strong contender. The protagonist in The Custom of the Country, Undine Spragg, (yes, that’s her name — Undie for short) has got to be all that and more. Set in New York and Paris in 1913, this novel captures the frivolous, self-indulgent antics of the rich upper class at the time.

I wanted to see the character of Undine grow and learn from many of her mistakes, and develop some type of empathy as she paraded herself amongst the elite New Yorkers, attending one soirée after another, in her stylish dresses sent to her from exclusive Parisian dress-makers, but just when I thought this would happen as Wharton’s writing teased me into believing that it would, I was left feeling betrayed and stupefied. How can a person not feel anything after all the horrible things that occurred to the people she supposedly loved, primarily because of her own quest to buy all that is fashionable in society — and to hell with what happens to the people helping her acquire the monetary funds to be able to do this? Even if it includes Mr and Mrs Spragg — the protagonist’s own parents!

Mr and Mrs Spragg have given into their daughter’s every want since she was in the crib — they live in fear and are always nervous around their daughter and her many outbursts. It is this very reason that they appease her; to avoid her explosive tirades. They don’t dare go against her. If you add a society that encourages men to work to buy everything their partner wants; a society that teaches its men to avoid having any female hear about their day at work, or about any money issues, is it any wonder many Undine Spraggs would exist — gallivanting around town trying to find the greatest catch and then ditching them when another great catch appears before them?

I felt for many of the characters Undine trampled on to get her way for the sole purpose of having the finest and to be seen in the finest restaurants and hotels. My heart went out to one of the leading men, Ralph Marvell. He was one of the unfortunate victims as he loses all his self-worth to appease Undine. He suffered physically and mentally for her; in order to understand her and to keep her happy, he loses so much of his self. But is that enough for the selfish Undine? The reader would think it is.

I also felt for Ralph Marvell’s desire to write a novel. It’s fascinating that we see through him, perhaps, Edith Wharton’s passion for writing. I too as an author felt the way he felt and could relate immensely to the passion that stirred within him when he wrote, and the despair when he couldn’t find the time to write and to pursue his interests.

As I kept reading, phrases like “the grass is always greener” and ironically “ keeping up with the Joneses” kept appearing in my mind. I also thought that the more this character attained, the more she wanted. The fact that Undine gets what she wants all her life by everyone caving into her demands, especially her nervous and defeated parents, the more she doesn’t really know what she wants for herself. She lacks moral discipline. She also lacks any business sense, after all, women were kept in the dark when it came to “mundane issues” such as how yet another bill charged by some Parisian milliner would be paid? Perhaps if they made it their business they may have had some clue that money doesn’t grow on the horse-chestnut trees lining the Champs-Élysées?

In many fiction books, the reader usually expects the character to evolve and to show some growth. After thinking about this, I realised that this isn’t always the case in real life. Perhaps, Edith Wharton believed that as well, especially being privy to the elite society she writes about. Perhaps she saw too many getting swept up in the establishment, in materialism — as it swallowed them up with its pretences — its sparkle. The only thing real with Undine Spragg are the pearls and other jewellery pieces that are gifted to her from her male suitors, and the many material things she acquires from others.

I thought the following quote sums up the character of Undine Spragg:

“She had everything she wanted, but she still felt, at times, that there were other things she might want if she knew about them.”

Edith Wharton, once again, wrote another masterpiece depicting the New York creme de la creme. Her ability to add satire, sarcasm, and to depict the cold and ugly truth about such a superficial world where everyone pretends and does not really feel, is remarkable. Her unique, innate ability to draw out human qualities through dialogue and actions in such a credible way, shine through in this novel as they do in many of her other masterpieces. She is quite gifted because she creates such ruthless, selfish characters, yet the reader still cares about finding out what happens to them. I wish there was a sequel to this novel as I would love to find out what happens to many of the characters. This was another brilliant, beautiful and thought-provoking read.

It irks this reader greatly to give this book four stars but it is well written. This free edition boasted very few typos.
However a most unlikeable character Undine Spragg, a manipulative, self centred woman, overly reliant on her beauty and lacking in any maternal instinct. It was her son young Paul that drew the emotions.

4,5 estrellas.
No es mi preferido de Edith Wharton, pero se acerca muchísimo.
Me ha encantado como, una vez más, Wharton nos va diseccionando, de manera inmisericorde y con un toque de cinismo, los desvelos de nuestra protagonista, Undine Spragg, por llegar a lo más alto de la sociedad.
Y esta vez no solamente nos muestra los hábitos, usos, (y mucha hipocresía) de la alta sociedad neoyorquina en las primeras décadas del s. XX, sino también de la "del otro lado del charco", la de esos ricos norteamericanos que iban a pasar temporadas a Francia, así como de las altas esferas de la nobleza francesa, cuando esta última consentía en admitir a algunos foráneos en sus círculos restringidos, exclusivos, elitistas y también bastante chauvinistas.
A lo largo de toda la novela, la autora utiliza a Undine y a toda una serie de secundarios (a cual mejor perfilado) para irnos presentando los contrastes, las contraposiciones entre diferentes grupos sociales, entre diferentes mundos, usos, costumbres y convenciones que durante mucho tiempo fueron compartimentos estancos, y que a principios del s. XX empezaron a mezclarse.
El nuevo mundo y el viejo mundo empiezan a mezclarse, la sociedad y las reglas del juego empiezan, muy lentamente, eso sí, a cambiar, y entre esos resquicios es donde empiezan a hacerse hueco los "trepas", los ambiciosos, los que sacrificaran cuanto y a cuantos haga falta para lograr su objetivo... es decir, ya empezamos a ver cómo las antiguas sociedades (tanto las antiguas familias de Nueva York -lo más parecido a la nobleza que tienen en EE.UU.- como las familias de la aristocracia francesa) debido a su falta de permeabilidad, y a sus dificultades de adaptación al cambio, van a tener las de perder frente a los ambiciosos y, sobre todo, frente a las nuevas fortunas de los millonarios y los hombres de negocios.
Pero, admás de este interesantísimo mosaico, Edith Wharton (como suele ser habitual en ella) nos hace una construcción de personajes que es para quitarse el sombrero: empezando por la protagonista.
Creo que hacía tiempo que no odiaba tan profundamente a un personaje. Undine es insoportable, egoísta, muy caprichosa (muy muy muy muy caprichosa), hipócrita, envidiosa, continuamente insatisfecha, absolutamente superficial, con cero cultura e inteligencia (aunque sí es lista, en el sentido intuitivo y animal del término), arribista, decidida en lograr exclusivamente lo que ella quiera y, en definitiva, aunque de una belleza extraordinaria de las que es imposible apartar la mirada (yo me la imaginaba como una especie de Michelle Pfeiffer de joven), no es nada más que, eso: mera apariencia. Como un edificio que tiene una fachada increíble, pero que por dentro está en ruinas y con todas las vigas podridas, amenzando derrumbe.
Me he tirado toda la novela deseándole todos los males, y esperando que las cosas le fueran mal (no desvelaré si mis deseos se han satisfecho o no). Y debo decir que es un gran mérito de Wharton, no solo construir una protagonista siendo perfectamente consciente de lo odiosa que es, sino lograr que no puedas soltar el libro pese a ello.
En general Wharton tiene gran maestría en esbozar algún que otro personaje odioso y odiable en sus novelas, pero con Undine alcanzó su maestría. Y por eso me encanta como personaje (aunque también la odie profundamente).
Pero por supuesto no es el único gran personaje de esta novela, que está plagada de secundarios complejos, tridimensionales, y con entidad en sí mismos: desde Ralph Marvell (sensible, romántico, anticuado y bastante pasivo), el misterioso Elmer Moffat (epítome de arribista y de los nuevos hombres de negocios, que llegaban para quedarse), los padres de Undine, la familia de Ralph o el conde Raymond de Chelles y su familia, entre muchos otros.
Todo ello, como siempre, con su prosa elegante, preciosista en la que deja reflexiones y auténticas perlas, en cuanto al análisis de la sociedad de sus tiempos.
Eso sí, esta vez me ha sorprendido la edición de Alba, ya que la edición contiene erratas (bastantes más de una, a decir verdad), y eso es algo a lo que esta editorial no me tiene acostumbrada. No eran insalvables como para estropear la lectura, pero sí que fuera de lo habitual en lo que es su nivel de calidad.

It’s been years since I’ve read an Edith Wharton novel and I had sort of forgotten what a staggeringly good writer she is. I was captivated by The Custom of the Country from start to finish and, to my mind, it is up there alongside The House of Mirth and The Age of Innocence as one of her finest works.

The Custom of the County (1913) gives us Edith Wharton at her most brilliant and whetted. Written on the cusp of World War I, in what now does seem like an age of innocence, the novel follows the affairs and marriages of the shallow and avaricious, but relentlessly entertaining, Undine Spragg, as she defies the social norms of New York City's Washington Square elite and the French aristocracy.

What struck me on my recent re-reading was how familiar and contemporary remain the characters of Undine and billionaire Elmer Moffat (her first and fourth husband): We can easily recognize the narcissistic wealthy Wall Street men and spoiled "beautiful" women who wreak havoc on the lives of all whom they encounter with blithe indifference. Where I disagree with many critics is that the consensus on Undine seems to be that Wharton wanted her to be somewhat sympathetic: a woman whose opportunities are so hemmed in by a male-dominated world that she must trade on her looks and sex appeal to achieve her ends. This is certainly true, but it is important to note that Undine, even if afforded the opportunities of her male contemporaries, would likely still have proven a bad apple. Wharton writes of Undine's attitude toward the soulless Moffat, "He used life exactly as she would have used it in his place." To the degree there are any heroes in this novel, they are Undine's second and third husbands, tradition-bound Ralph Marvell and Count Raymond de Chelles, who suffer terribly from Undine's heartless depravity.

Nobody should die without reading all of the major works of Edith Wharton and this is a phenomenal place to start.

“She wanted, passionately and persistently, two things which she believed should subsist together in any well-ordered life: amusement and respectability.”
This is one of Wharton’s better known works with a main character who has been compared to Becky Sharp and Scarlett O’Hara. Indeed Julian Fellowes has cited The Custom of the Country as being one of the inspirations for Downton Abbey (I can see some of you running for the hills straight away!).
This novel is a reflection of Wharton’s feelings about the American upper classes in the early twentieth century (this was published in 1913). The main character is Undine Spragg, a beautiful young woman from middle class mid-west America who wants to all of the good things in life (including a well to do husband).
“She wanted, passionately and persistently, two things which she believed should subsist together in any well-ordered life: amusement and respectability.”
The reader gets a picture of society in New York, upper class society of course. The novels also moves to and from society in Paris and other parts of France. By the end of the book she is on her fourth husband (one of them twice). For Undine it is all about the pursuit of wealth and status. A small town makes big anti-parable. Wharton has turned a strong willed independent woman into the villain of this particular piece, although there are certain societal expectations which held her back too. It is a critique of upper class norms and customs: something Wharton knew a great deal about. There is also a good deal about class.
This is undoubtedly a good novel, although I found Undine tiresome ( I am sure I was supposed to). However my tolerance for the foibles of the upper classes has certain boundaries.
“Undine was fiercely independent and yet passionately imitative. She wanted to surprise every one by her dash and originality, but she could not help modelling herself on the last person she met, and the confusion of ideals thus produced caused her much perturbation when she had to choose between two courses.”

Some quick thoughts:

I think this would make an excellent entry-level Wharton novel for a young reader who does not fully grasp the realities of the Old World and the Old New York, but is ready to learn.

The protagonist, like many people in our time, strives after a certain lifestyle, the details of which become clearer with her apparently fairy-tale social ascent, as she grows aware of what is available, or unavailable, to her.

Even now, however, she was not always happy. She had everything she wanted, but she still felt, at times, that there were other things she might want if she knew about them.

Undine Spragg appears to me disturbingly modern; like another mesmerizing beauty, Marylin Monroe, she believes sensuality is overrated, and is only excited by men's power and what they have to offer; like Amy Dunne of Gone Girl, of which Wharton's novel reminded me at times, Undine uses men as vehicles to attain her goals, discarding them once she notices they don't quite "fit into the picture".

Social criticism: 'The Custom of the Country' discusses not only social aspiration, mobility, and the increasingly popular institution of divorce, but also the tremendous cost of pretending the latter does not exist. More accessibly than in Wharton's other novels, yet still subtly, the author presents the realities of the changing social scene of New York, and the arrival of the parvenu 'invaders' entering the world and the lives of the Old New York high society:

What Ralph understood and appreciated was Mrs. Spragg's unaffected frankness in talking of her early life. Here was no retrospective pretense of an opulent past, such as the other Invaders were given to parading before the bland but undeceived subject race. The Spraggs had been "plain people" and had not yet learned to be ashamed of it. The fact drew them much closer to the Dagonet ideals than any sham elegance in the past tense.

Definitely recommended as an intelligent beach read:)

Edith Wharton's gift was her twenty twenty vision of the society she lived in, New York at the beginning of the 20th century. The moral of this complicated but satisfying tale seems to be that without the well established customs to be found in old Europe, people in the new world are adrift and have nothing better to aspire to than wealth and celebrity status. The irony is that her conclusions could apply to the Europe of today.