James is often elegant and often long-winded. Both statements fit this novel. A test of patience.

Στην Αμερική του τέλους του 19ου αιώνα οι γονείς της εξαχρονης Μέιζι, άνθρωποι της καλής κοινωνίας χωρίζουν άσχημα. Στη δικαστική διαμάχη που θα ακολουθήσει ορίζεται ότι το παιδί θα περνάει ένα εξάμηνο με τον καθένα τους εναλλάξ. Οι γονείς είναι ναρκισοι, εγωπαθεις και τελείως αδιάφοροι για το παιδί τους που το αντιμετωπίζουν ως όπλο στον μεταξύ τους πόλεμο όταν ασχολούνται μαζί του. Και οι δύο σύντομα ξαναπαντρεύονται, ο πατέρας με την κοπέλα που πρόσεχε τη Μέιζι και η μητέρα με έναν νεότερό της άντρα, αλλά και οι δεύτεροι γάμοι δεν πάνε καλύτερα από τους πρώτους. Ενώ οι πραγματικοί γονείς κάνουν τη ζωή τους, ταξιδεύουν και αλλάζουν διαρκώς συντρόφους, οι θετοι γονείς με κοινό σημείο τη Μέιζι γίνονται με τη σειρά τους ζευγάρι, αν και εξίσου αποτυχημενο. Μόνη σταθερά μια ηλικιωμένη γκουβερναντα, η κα Γουιξ. Δεν υπάρχουν σωστοί ενήλικες στον κόσμο της Μέιζι. Οι γονείς είναι απαράδεκτοι, η θετή μητέρα καιροσκόπος και πανούργα, ο θετος πατέρας, το πιο αγαπημένο πρόσωπο του παιδιού, δίνει μεν αγάπη και προσοχή αλλά είναι αδύναμος χαρακτήρας και τελικά αναξιόπιστος. Ακόμη και η κα Γουιξ είναι μικροψυχη, γκρινιάρα και ανακατεύεται συνεχώς στις μόνιμες διαμάχες γύρω από τη Μέιζι. Η ίδια η Μειζι παρουσιάζεται ως άγγελος, έξυπνη και παρατηρητικη, πάντα έτοιμη να κατανοήσει και να συγχωρήσει κρέμεται από κάθε ψήγμα αγάπης και προσοχής. Ο χαρακτήρας της όμως απλά δεν υπάρχει. Η Μέιζι δεν αλλάζει ούτε και επηρεάζεται απ'οσα ζει, συνεχίζει σαν καλοκουρδισμενο αυτόματο καλού παιδιού να προσπαθεί να καταλάβει τα ατελείωτα υπονοούμενα που κατακλύζουν το βιβλίο. Η υπόθεση μέσα στο μπλέξιμο της είναι σχετικά ξεκάθαρη αλλά ο συγγραφέας γεμίζει το βιβλίο με ατελείωτα βλέμματα και νυξεις για πράγματα που όλοι καταλαβαίνουν και το παιδί προσπαθεί να καταλάβει ώσπου διαπιστώνεις ότι σου είναι τελικά αδιάφορο να καταλάβεις οτιδήποτε.

I recommend this book to anyone who cares about the craft of novel writing--or the ability of a middle-aged man to imagine himself as a young girl.

I learned that James is brilliant. Maise has the hots for Sir Claude. And most parents are as awful as we always imagined them to be when we were children.

My real life reading friends and I - a scant five of us - have, at my suggestion, and since 2014, attempted an annual group reading project (book, theme or author). That first year was Thomas Mann's  Doctor Faustus. In 2015, we pledged to read novels about WWI by authors from the participant countries. Last year was Anthony Trollope. For reasons you could guess as easily as I can, one of the five of us (not me), at the end of each year, has not read any book in the project. The rest of us have all felt rewarded.

It has devolved upon me, or I have taken it upon myself, to be the one to offer suggestions for the coming year. This year I offered: 'The Stories of Flannery O'Connor', any novel of Nabokov that is not 'Lolita', Zola. . . . (but no one jumped, so, I swallowed hard and timidly said). . . .Henry James?

They jumped. Well, one guy jumped and the rest followed. So..., this being the good ol' U.S. of A., a democracy kind of, and the election results being in, like it or not. . . . this is my year of reading Henry James.

The plot of this'un, first of all, was typically Victorian in that societal class matters more than actual virtue, much is hidden, and no one has an actual job. Maisie's parents - (we hardly know them) - have as little to do with Maisie as they can, divorce, quickly meet new partners, which partners find their way to each other, leaving the parents to find new partners and, ahem, a convenient exit. Maisie goes to whomever will have her, except her father's 'brown' girlfriend. . . . she won't go there. Yes, ridiculous.

Most negative reviews wave a white flag at James' writing style. I get that. There are sentences - meandering, comma-splattered, jealously refusing to yield to the next - which made me want to throw them at his tombstone and shout, "HEY, YOU! In English, please!"

Oh, what an election.

In the annals of classic fiction I have encountered some truly monstrous parents (some of the parents in Austen or Dickens certainly come to mind), but the mother and father of little Maisie Farange must surely be the worst. They are truly beyond despicable, and if I could reach into the pages of Henry James's What Maisie Knew, I'd throttle them both! Okay, now that I've gotten that off of my chest, perhaps I can provide an objective review of this novel. What Maisie Knew was written by Henry James in 1897, while he was still living in London.

The structure of this sophisticated novel is extraordinarily clever, as the entire plot is laid out from the perspective of the little girl, Maisie (and keep the title of the novel in mind as you read too). The novel starts off with the parents being granted a divorce and the court awarding that custody of Maisie will be shared. This poor little girl has to spend six months with her father and then be packed off for six months with her mother. What is even worse is that the parents use Maisie in their on-going fight-to-the-death with one another; at the same time they take on new spouses (and then immediately begin adulterous relationships!). And while Maisie is wise beyond her years and quite perceptive to what is going on around her in the world of the grown-ups that she is surrounded by, much of what she observes has to be interpreted through the lens of the experience of her own childhood and the little bit of love and kindness bestowed upon her from a scant few of the adults--but not her own parents--around her.

Through the course of the novel Maisie does gravitate to the two characters that do seem offer her the hope and opportunity of kindness, love, and some semblance of stability, and those two characters are her governess, Mrs Wix, and her mother's second ex-husband Sir Claude. Sir Claude has his own 'bag-of-issues' to deal with, but he is really and truly genuinely concerned about Maisie and her long-term welfare. He ends being more of father-figure to the little girl, by a long-shot, than her own father did on his very best day. Ultimately, these two people, whom Maisie trusts with her heart and soul, do end up making the right decisions that give this little girl a chance for a wholesome life.

Finally, it needs to be said that there's much in this novel that can offend modern sensibilities, particularly when it comes to how children are looked after (or not), guardianship issues, or even the exercise of parental responsibilities (or not!). The reader needs to remember that there weren't governmental agencies like 'Child Protective Services' in Victorian England to provide that safety net for children in Maisie's situation. Henry James, like Charles Dickens before him, seems to have been much affected by child welfare issues, and I have to think he was trying to make a point here that parental responsibility is a duty and an obligation and that love and a nurturing stable environment are what every child needs and deserves. As painful as it was to read, I'm glad that I read What Maisie Knew, and look forward to reading it again in the future. At this point, I would give this 3.5 stars out of five.

But I still want to reach into the pages of this novel and throttle both of her parents!

“Lo que Maisie sabía” me resultó compleja, fascinante, diferente, sorpresiva, atractiva y una retadora y exigente lectura, de lo mejor que me ha tocado leer en los últimos años. Joya de la literatura, expresión de la maestría alcanzada por Henry James, “Lo que Maisie sabía” estimuló mis sentidos y me empujó a emplear mis capacidades lectoras al máximo para comprenderla, atento siempre a la historia y a los audaces recursos utilizados por el autor para contárnosla.

Créeme: puede, a pesar de su complejidad, que te sea más fácil leerla, a que yo logre trasmitirte todas sus cualidades; que alcance a explicarte los magistrales recursos literarios que puso en juego Henry James para crear esta excepcional novela; que logre exponer los diferentes temas que trata; o que intente describir las escabrosas relaciones que se van conformando… en fin, llevo tres días escribiendo y reescribiendo el texto sin lograr encontrar la clave.

Historia profunda, aguda, irónica, cínica, desafiante; se debe leer con calma y atención. Sutil y ambigua, “Lo que Maisie sabía” “cuenta la historia de Maisie, una niña que a causa del divorcio de sus padres se ve obligada a vivir un período de seis meses con cada uno de ellos. Entre padre, madre, madrastra, padrastro, institutrices y niñeras, Maisie intentará comprender… el complejo mundo de los adultos…”.

La novela inicia con el agresivo divorcio de los padres, quedando Maisie al cuidado de dos institutrices en dos casas diferentes. Pronto los padres recaen en el matrimonio; el progenitor con la señorita Overmore, y la madre, con sir Claude, un hombre afable, pero débil en extremo, que se hace cargo de la niña, junto con la sosa señora Wix, institutriz de Maisie en la casa materna, ante la situación de desamparo en que se encuentra, trocada de arma contenciosa a una especie de estorbo, tanto para el padre como para la madre.

Lo que ocurre durante los seis años que cubre la historia, es como jugar rondo al estilo Cruyff o Guardiola, con Maisie usada de pelota, mientras los adultos la “patean” del uno al otro, en un juego inmoral, pletórico de ambigüedades, chantajes emocionales, crueldad, egoísmo e inmadurez. Pero nuestra Maisie aguanta eso y más; mientras crece y se acerca a la adolescencia, nuestra sobreviviente observa, aprende y reflexiona.

Porque Maisie es inteligente, flexible, adaptable; detecta y administra con la sabiduría de una niña, los comportamientos egoístas, caprichosos, falsos, y ambiguos de quienes la rodean. La verdad, Maisie es un personaje que terminé adorando.

“Lo que Maisie sabía” tiene muchas lecturas: historia sobre el chantaje emocional basado en la utilización de los hijos como armas y víctimas de la separación de los padres; sobre el abandono infantil, aquel donde deja de existir una autenticidad emocional, ahí donde aparece el desinterés, la apatía y la frialdad; relato de adulterios, observados y analizados desde la mirada perspicaz de una niña, que madura precozmente. Resumiendo: “Lo que Maisie sabía” expone la complejidad, la ambigüedad, las sutilezas de las relaciones de una serie de seres humanos defectuosos.

Jorge Luis Borges la definía como “una horrible historia de adulterio narrada a través de los ojos de una niña que no está capacitada para entenderla”, y no concuerdo con el genio; la novela es mucho más que la historia de un adulterio; el traductor de la novela, el mexicano Sergio Pitol, la definió como una de las novelas “más endemoniadamente difíciles que pueda permitirse cualquier literatura”; y estoy de acuerdo con Pitol, al que le debemos la impecable traducción que nos facilitó la lectura .

¿Porqué resulta, además de la temática, una novela compleja? Quizá, y eso es lo que me sorprendió, por el narrador que utiliza el autor; James utiliza un narrador en tercera persona, pero no omnisciente; no sabe o no quiere que nos esteremos de todo; nos relata la historia desde diferentes puntos de vista. No vemos a través de los ojos de la niña, sino que nos cuenta lo que la niña ve, sin importarle que ella misma lo entienda. Compartimos, por tanto, el desconcierto, la sorpresa, el pasmo de Maisie. No tenemos certezas, tenemos que aportarlas nosotros como lectores, y ahí uno de nuestros desafíos.

A mi me pareció una extraordinaria novela, exigente con el lector, sí y mucho, pero es tan actual, tan moderna, tan … vaya, no encuentro mas palabras. Te la recomiendo. ¡Te leo!

Desilusão total!! Nunca um livro fora para mim tão entediante … não sei se a sua leitura tornou-se fastidiosa por ter lido, antes, a divertidíssima Pornopopeia, pois como sabemos, quando acabamos de ler um livro que nos preenche, o próximo, se não for tão bom, ressente-se na nossa concentração, na capacidade, ou não, de assimilarmos o enredo, a ação, de nos empatizarmos ou não com as personagens, enfim, não conseguimos fruir de tudo aquilo que uma boa narrativa nos poderá reservar.

Henry James, para mim, é um dos melhores autores de todos os tempos. Tudo o que li da sua autoria, até ao momento, gostei … muito! Mas “O que Maisie Sabia” fez-me bocejar o tempo todo… fosse eu de deixar leituras a meio, este livro teria sido um forte candidato. Mas, e sempre achando que o enredo iria, milagrosamente, alterar-se para algo mais interessante, mais misterioso, sei lá, mais cúmplice com aquilo que espero de um autor – e esperava muito, confesso -, lá levei, com enorme sentido de sacrifício, a leitura até ao fim. Nada aconteceu, entretanto, para que alterasse a ideia inicial, do tédio que esta narrativa, desde o início, me proporcionou.

Nem sequer vou entrar pela análise da obra como costumo e gosto de fazer, de tão confusa que é … deixo apenas uma nota sobre a história: uma menina que no início da narrativa terá uns sete ou oito anos, inteligente para os padrões da época, tem seis pessoas na sua vida que nutrem por ela um sentimento que não se percebe muito bem se é amor ou ódio: a mãe e o pai, o padrasto e a madrasta e as perceptoras, cada uma ligada a um dos cônjuges, mais os amantes da mãe, do pai e da relação romântica entra a madrasta e o padrasto. Mas sempre num texto, inacreditavelmente denso, que nos confunde pois às páginas tantas, já não sabemos a quem o autor se está a referir tantas são as personagens que se evolam sobre Maisie. Mas até aí, tudo bem se não nos trouxesse um sentimento inexplicável de incompreensão, de saturação, de tempo perdido …

Apenas não dou menos de três estrelas – que, para mim, já é negativa – porque considero a tradução, muito má, talvez a grande responsável pelo tédio que nos traz e a origem de tamanho desinteresse.

A evitar!!!

A young girl gets shuttled around London by her horrible, divorcee parents and her horrible divorcee parents’ horrible lovers, because innocence is a precious thing and yadda yadda yadda. Frequent readers of this blog (what? Really? Get a job) will be aware of my personal feeling that basically, with the exception of some Russians and maybe the Bronte sisters, no one wrote a good novel before the 20th century. The first Miller I’ve read since I was in college did not do much to shake that belief. This is the kind of book where a character will say a line of dialogue, and then that line of dialogue will be buttressed by a page of text describing the character’s emotional state, and how this line references previous themes, and so on and so forth. I kinda these kinds of books. It is also relentlessly unsubtle, and all the risqué bits are not that risqué 130 years on. I wouldn’t say there’s nothing here, but I didn’t love it and I absolutely felt the essential idea was dealt with better by other writers.

During my tenure as a student at the university, I read my fair share of 19th century authors. While the 19th century was not my favorite time period—I took as many medieval literature classes as I could and devoured Viking/Icelandic sagas—Henry James was one of the authors that kept reoccurring. Many of my professors liked his work; however, without fail, we would always read Daisy Miller. So, even while I had a little experience with James, I never had the chance to read one of his novels. When I discovered that What Maisie Knew was being turning into a film, I decided it was finally time to settle down with something other than a short story. And, even though it was daunting, it ended up being well worth the effort.

The book opens with a vicious divorce between Beale and Ida Farange. From brief details given, it seemed like a circus of mud-slinging. And at the centre of it all is their little daughter, Maisie. The court decides that she is to split her time between her parents. Six months are spent with her mother; six months with her father. And, through all of this, both of her parents decide to use her as their own personal weapon. Sending her to the other parent with little "gems" and messages, Maisie cannot help being a carrier pigeon for her parents' continued hostility. As things progress, each of her parents remarry. And, from all appearances, her step-parents love her, care for her, and give her more love than either of her parents. However, being the people that they are, her parents decide to partake in adulterous affairs with other people, and, whether it is full intentional or not, they involve Maisie. All the while, her step-parents are drawn together out of their mutual love for the child. Instead of being an innocent child, Maisie is thrust into an adult world of intrigue, drama, and failed relationships.

From the first page to the last, this book is heart rending! It appears as though Maisie was merely an accessory to her parents. She was constantly used as a way to send hurtful and damning messages to each parent, they wanted her as their own information gatherer, and so on. Every horrible thing you can imagine, her parents made her do. And, unless she had some juicy tidbit about the other parent, neither parent was interested in her company, and she was cast off to governesses. When her parents do speak with her concerning other things, she is subjected to horrible psychological abuse.

Through all of this, Maisie is struggling with her position in the world, her family, and her role. While she loves Sir Claude and Mrs. Beale—and the idea of them being together—she wants her parents to want her and to be a part of their lives. At every turn, she is cast aside by the people who are supposed to love her the most. When each parent individually asks the child to come with them, it hurt to read that Maisie—in the maturity and knowledge gained from watching her parents' self-destructive and self-involved behavior—knew they didn't really want her but where just reassuring themselves that they did try to put on a show that they wanted her.

Honestly, this book is extremely hard to discuss without giving everything away. Suffice it to say, this book obviously spans a number of years, and Maisie grows older as the story goes on. However, while James does not tell the specific passing of time, it is obvious in Maisie's widening of knowledge, her field of vision, and her ability to learn and manipulate the games being played around her that she is aging. While this book follows Maisie, it also seems to be a huge statement from James about parents refusing to take responsibility and the decay of the system of marriage and what people will do/sacrifice in order to keep themselves happy. At the centre of the whirlwind of her parents' divorce and multiple love affairs, Mrs. Wix's batty nature, and Sir Claude and Mrs. Beale's relationship, is a young girl who has been cast aside by her parents and desperately wants someplace, someone to belong to.

The finally chapter of this book really brings home the reality that Maisie lives in. Furthermore, it also uses Mrs. Wix as James' mouthpiece to attack the behavior exhibited by both sets of parents and voice his feelings concerning the parental role. And, while I understand Maisie's final choice, I still find myself wishing that Sir Claude had been willing to do as the child had asked.

1,5

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Maisies parents get divorced. The little girls life is to be shared 6month with the one and 6 month with the other. On each side she has a different governess charged with looking after her and to educate her, schools are avoided. However each parent marries again and then separate again to form new couples in a cross exchange and Maisie is beeing handed from stepmother to stepmother and from governess to governess. Maisie observes adult life arround her and as a clever girl she learns fast.
The story is brilliantly staged, wonderfully written in ever so clever and witty phrases, conversations and vocabulary. In the end the reader is led on to mysterious and slippery situation. Is Maisie,who is in love with her most recent stepfather, innocently going to be a Lolita sort of, or are the adults all interested in Maisies hidden fortune, possibly inherited from her father. The reader is left wondering.

Romanzo difficile, affascinante, criptico e controverso come non mai. Le prime tre qualità sono caratteristiche congenite ad ogni scritto dell’americano naturalizzato inglese, la quarta deriva invece dalla delicata operazione di traduzione che può risultare inficiante rispetto alla lettura e alla stessa comprensione. Sono stata fortunata e mi sono imbattuta, senza sapere prima dei limiti di altre traduzioni in circolazione, nel lavoro di Ugo Tessitore per i tipi di Marsilio; in una breve e nascosta nota egli stesso giustifica alcune scelte di traduzione fatte per garantire una maggiore aderenza al contesto descritto da James ma soprattutto specifica l’utilizzo della maiuscola nei pronomi di terza persona presenti nei dialoghi per appianare ambiguità accessorie che genererebbero una fatica di lettura ancora più evidente in quella che è già prassi consolidata del divertito James. Ad ogni modo ancora una volta la lettura si è presentata impegnativa, sfumata, criptica, allusiva; occorre lasciarsi trasportare dalla prosa di James ed evitare la presunzione di seguire il suo gioco, non cadere nella tentazione di sciogliere qualsiasi perplessità, fumosità, dubbio o incomprensione visto che sono stimolati ad arte tra le righe del racconto a generare un’instabilità tipica del lettore jamesiano. Occorre sicuramente prestare la massima attenzione e non perdersi in una prosa mirabolante, contorta ma lucida, complessa ma necessaria per godere di una narrazione che per temi e implicazioni morali risulta straordinariamente moderna.
In breve questa è la storia di una bambina contesa da due ricchi genitori che ottengono dal tribunale un affidamento della stessa per sei mesi l’anno ciascuno. La piccola bimba, ritratta fra i sei e i nove anni, girerà come una trottola fra le esistenze di due genitori miseramente falliti e in preda solo al loro fallimento coniugale che innesca tremendi rancori e inutili ripicche ai danni della bimba stessa. Nel contempo la piccola verrà avviluppata dalle tresche amorose dei due i quali repentinamente si faranno accompagnare da amanti dal dubbio valore morale i quali fra l’altro, paradossalmente, diventeranno le proiezioni degli iniziali conflitti messi in atto dai genitori per accaparrarsi la piccola, sostituendosi di fatto alle figure genitoriali. Le persone che ruotano intorno a Maisie e che bramano di possederla sono ambigue così come tutte le relazioni che si innescano fra adulti e fra essi e la stessa piccola. James amplifica l’instabilità legata al destino di questa bimba con la scelta stilistica di assumere il punto di vista della bambina pertanto tutte le vicende narrate sono trasposte secondo la visuale limitata di una bimbetta precocemente esposta a volgarità, bassezze comportamentali, intrighi amorosi e preoccupazioni pecuniarie. Il motore che anima il comportamento adulto e che inevitabilmente implica ritorsioni nel suo vissuto è un misto delle più tremende passioni umane: rabbia, gelosia, superficialità, pulsioni erotiche, mire economiche e conseguente attaccamento al denaro, inadeguatezza al ruolo genitoriale. Soprattutto questo colpisce, visto che la stessa Maisie vivrà una sovrabbondanza di genitori, emblema stesso del suo abbandono. Maisie dunque cresce non tanto tentando di dare una lettura a questi eventi ma lasciandosi da essi trasportare con entusiasmo e con amore, si affida innocente e sprovveduta ad ogni adulto che si prende cura(?) di lei riuscendo con la sua ingenuità e con la sua innocenza a cogliere del positivo in tutti loro. Sono imperdibili i ritratti dei singoli personaggi secondo la sua ottica: oggettivi, reali e per questo spiazzanti. Il suo entusiasmo iniziale per le persone le permette di conquistarle, di fare in modo che loro vengano in un qualche modo legati a lei mentre agiscono tutti per un secondo fine che non è certo il suo benessere; spesso gli stessi adulti paiono farsi gioco dell’ingenuità della bimba che nel frattempo ha però acquisito un linguaggio adatto al contesto esperienziale al quale è sottoposta. Parla come un’adulta, le sue parole sono ambigue, instilla il dubbio che dietro una loquacità precoce non ci sia solo quell’ingenuità che fa scattare il sorriso dell’adulto navigato, Maisie forse sa e ha capito ma che cosa sa realmente? È questo l’enigma, Maisie non è forse solo una bambina che vive “in quell’intensa percezione del presente che è la mente infantile”?