Thought I was over a mild obsession with Henry James, but not so much. Having bumped into the Toronto Film Festival and a movie adaptation of What Maisie Knew, I got the book. And was transported back to college and my infatuation with James and his marvelous voyeuristic peerings into emotional (sexual) repression. Freud was obsessed with it. James as well. I thought Turn of the Screw was the best example before today. Oh blimey, that marvelous scene when The Governess first conjures Peter Quint, while her hands are roaming up and down the crenellation. Yowza, Freud must have drooled over that battlement elevation, if he ever bothered with fiction. Maisie is The Governess before she started seeing ghosts in the shrubbery. The combination of innocence and observational understanding is chilling. And fantastic literary legerdemain. This is intriguing stuff, nestled enticingly in the same time Freud and James cast their weird and wonderful spells. Just read a .edu review that labeled Maisie as evil. That judgment is fascinating, too. The men in What Maisie Knew are feckless. The women are shrill and conniving. Is a child shaped by the machinations of these adults evil? Who among these characters has any power at all? Did Maisie create herself then? In school, I thought both James and Freud were scared stupid of girls. 45 years later, I still think that.

Several Turns of the Screw

What hubris to review a work by such a major novelist as Henry James, even though What Maisie Knew may not be one of his major novels! All the same, a review can perhaps be useful in two regards: by commenting on this particular edition, and by suggesting how the novel might appeal to those familiar with other James works but not this one.

This Penguin Classics paperback is crisply printed, comfortable in the hand, and well annotated. There is also an excellent essay by Paul Theroux. It gives too much away, I think, to be read as an introduction, but it does make a helpful afterword. If you do read the essay first, which is how it is printed, it may seem that Theroux has revealed virtually the entire plot, but in fact this is not so. James's narrative exposition is unusually swift in this book, and a lot happens very quickly, but his main interest lies in exploring the psychological depths of the situation that he has established; there is a distinct change of gear at roughly the halfway point of the book.

As Theroux points out, the novel is generally considered a transitional work between James's earlier style and his later one. Theroux also locates this gear-change at the point where James ceased writing in longhand and started dictating his novels to a stenographer—a crisis described so well by Colm Tóibín in his biographical novel, The Master. The first half of the book shows a leanness of style and also a great sense of humor not often associated with the author. But the book's premise is intrinsically comic: Maisie, a five-year-old girl, observes the doings of the adults around her as she is shipped from household to household in consequence of her parents' divorce, as the parents take lovers and remarry, and then as virtually everybody else in the story takes other lovers. The humor comes from the fact that while Maisie understands so little at first, the adult reader quickly picks up what is going on. The spider symmetries of the expanding web of sex make a formal pattern as clear and intricate as a dance, illuminated by James's dry wit and his beautiful ability to see through childish eyes.

Several things change at the half-way point. Maisie becomes old enough to understand a little more. The adults whom she had previously observed from below now become more conscious of her as a potential ally and start using her unscrupulously to further their own ends. Twists of the plot which had at first seemed only amusing now appear as quite nasty turns of the screw, as Maisie's affections and loyalties are forced into the vise. Questions of morality come to the fore, and eventually dominate the action. The narrative tone also changes; although Maisie's knowledge and moral awareness develops considerably, James is forced into using his own voice to describe it, as though Maisie herself has lost the words to follow her own farewell to childhood.

The reference above to n  The Turn of the Screwn is deliberate, for What Maisie Knew (1897) seems almost like a preliminary draft for the more famous story, published in the following year. Yes, there are differences: this is comic rather than tragic, complicit rather than mysterious, and much less hermetic. The child heroine appears to come through with more wisdom and less trauma than the situation might have caused. But the final scene is astonishingly close to the ending of the later story: a struggle for control of a once-innocent child waged between a humble governess and two charismatic figures who exert a powerful hold both on the child and on each other. Only the ending is different, though no less worth waiting for.

Years ago, I read somewhere, perhaps in Graves' Goodbye to All of That, or a biography on Ford Madox Ford, where it was recorded (a tricky word if it's Graves) that Ford, while out in the trenches, read and greatly admired Henry James' What Maisie Knew. What stuck in my mind was the fact that Ford (as I remember it) thought it a great treatment of evil and children. Ford, a quirky but fine critic, could be a critical bear when it came to James, so the fact that he singled this novel out for praise certainly raised a hopeful flag for me. Up to that time, I just assumed that Evil and Children and James = The Turn of the Screw. That's still true, but the fact is that it's Evil with (in my opinion) a supernatural element. Maisie has nothing that goes bump in the night (unless it's one of the incredible parade of adulterous adults), but it's bleak picture of human corruption goes into more identifiable areas of darkness than the famous ghost story.

As the novel opens, Beale and Ida Farange are getting divorced. It's been a nasty affair, and floating between them is their only child, Maisie. Neither parent really wants her, and I believe she's between four and six years of age at the time. What follows is the passing back and forth between the parents of the child. She becomes a pawn for the eventual step parents, the new Mrs. Beale and the new Mr. Ida (Sir Claude) as well as the old fuddy dud governess, Mrs. Wix (who herself has a silly crush on Sir Claude). At the start this is somewhat comical, but in the back of your mind you keep asking yourself, What about the child? And it's good to keep asking yourself that question, because it provides a sure anchor just in case you're losing count of the adulteries. In the last quarter of the book, things take a much darker turn. The original Beale is off to America with an ugly rich woman, and Ida, Mama, is batty as hell. Masks are dropped, sex is in the air, and there is a rather long and amazing confrontation at the end that has the gravity of a theological debate. This isn't boring, I assure you. Maisie, who to my mind is somewhere around 11 to 13 at this point (and there is some debate about her age), has, unlike so many Dickens heroes, been corrupted to some extent by all that she has had to live through. (How could she not?) The one good figure, Mrs. Wix (and she herself is a mixed bag), argues strongly for the "moral sense," and it's need to be maintained. (And she is sincere.) Maisie's cruelty, just now starting to show itself, will surprise you. What will be her choice? The end is ambiguous, but powerful. This novel invites a number of different interpretations, and would probably be a great candidate for a book club reading.

Ο κύριος και η κυρία Φάραντζ, παίρνουν διαζύγιο. Κι ενώ θα μπορούσαν να συνεχίσουν ανέμελοι τις ζωές τους, έχουν κάτι (ένα κοριτσάκι, τη Μέιζι) που τους κρατάει ακόμη ενωμένους, όπως το παπούτσι με το οδόστρωμα, λόγω μιας τσίχλας. Για μεγάλη δυσφορία και του υποδήματος και του οδοστρώματος. Και κανείς δε ρωτάει και την τσίχλα.

Η Μέιζι, γίνεται αντικείμενο. Διαπραγμάτευσης και μείωσης, μέσο επικοινωνίας χολωμένων ανθρώπων, δοχείο για τη χολή και τα φτηνότερα των συναισθημάτων που επιδεικνύουν οι άνθρωποι σε αυτές τις περιπτώσεις.

Και το μόνο που θέλει Μέιζι είναι αγάπη και κατανόηση.

Αντ' αυτά, μπλέκει σε ένα παρανοϊκό γαϊτανάκι με γκόμενες και γκόμενους των γονέων, ουσιαστικά ένα παιχνίδι στα χέρια όλων, παριστάνοντας λίγο τη χαζή, ενώ καταλαβαίνει πρακτικά τα πάντα και ερχόμενη πιο κοντά στις γκουβερνάντες που αφειδώς τής πληρώνουν για να μην ασχολούνται οι ίδιοι μαζί της. Ποιοι ίδιοι; Ο πατέρας της, η μάνα της, η γκόμενα του πατέρα της, ο γκόμενος της μάνας της και γκόμενες και γκόμενοι που προκύπτουν στη συνέχεια, μέχρι που κάποια στιγμή φτάνει να έχει εγκαταληφθεί στα χέρια ενός ζεύγους που έχει προκύψει από γκομενιλίκια των γονιών της: ΝΑΙ, Η ΜΕΪΖΙ ΚΑΤΑΛΗΓΕΙ ΜΕ ΜΙΑ ΓΚΟΜΕΝΑ ΤΟΥ ΜΠΑΜΠΑ ΚΑΙ ΕΝΑ ΓΚΟΜΕΝΟ ΤΗΣ ΜΑΜΑΣ.

Χαριτωμένο και σχετικά μεστό αν αναλογιστεί κανείς πόσο φλύαρα έτειναν να είναι τα βιβλία της εποχής, αναδεικνύει από το παρελθόν ένα διαχρονικό πρόβλημα: τα παιδιά ως... οτιδήποτε άλλο εκτός από παιδιά για τους γονείς.

Η Μέιζι ξέρει πολλά, αυτό δε σημαίνει και ότι α) έπρεπε να τα μάθει β) είναι ευτυχισμένη μπαίνοντας στην εφηβεία της

People are nasty, but Henry James is clever.

“She took refuge on the firm ground of fiction, through which indeed there curled the blue river of truth.”

This is my second encounter with James, and it was nothing like what I had expected. While I remember liking (perhaps even loving) "Portrait of a Lady", I do not remember a language and a writing such as this. It was more beautiful and more delicate that I could ever had imagined. Every chapter was filled with a flowery prose that enchanted and captivated me - even though the story never did. In a way my experience of this particular James novel is completely opposite of my first encounter with him.

"What Masie Knew" is built upon an extremely interesting concept. Maisie's parents are divorced and use her as a weapon against each other. As if that wasn't enough they each remarry and lets Maisie witness their affairs all over again, as they cheat and lie in a never-ending circle. Maisie is forced to act like an adult, because the adults around her acts like children.
James does not tell the story from Maisie's point of view, but he only allows the reader to see what Maisie sees. We never enter a room without Maisie, and we never get a glimpse of what is happening behind her back. The book is made of sneaking suspicions and half truths.

Unfortunately it didn't grab me the way it was supposed to. I never did get invested in this appalling story of lies and deceit. I love the concept, but I didn't love the story itself. It never surprised me. It never involved me. It just dragged on.

In fact, it is highly unusual that a book of this small size should be so hard to read. But it is.

“Everything had something behind it: life was like a long corridor with rows of closed doors.”

Surprisingly tedious for a tale of “intrigue and sexual betrayal.” Yes, the narration is neat, but that’s not enough to carry the story.

After finishing this book, I recognize, in retrospect, that it's a thorough and insightful look at the psyche of a young girl, fought over by her divorced parents and, ultimately, her step-parents, yet while I was still in the process of reading it, I could hardly stand to keep turning the pages, perhaps due, in part, to the sheer number of phrases and, by extension, commas that Henry James packed into every sentence. (See what I did there?)

I have always been reluctant to read Henry James as so I have read so many reviews which say that he is difficult to read. I can't say I found this at all and will certainly try his other books.

This book is really interesting as it obviously is a tale of a little girl whose parent's should have never had a child and which is let down by just about anybody, even if some of them think they are on "her side". What is amazing is that this tale could be translated into the 21st century and you would recognize especially many "celeb children" or any other child put into this world by people who should never have kids. Sad tale, but a very good read.

Let's just say that I put this book down, not once, not twice, but three times to read something else. That said, I believe that had I read this while I was in my twenties, I very well might have liked it a lot more than I did reading it now. Let me also add that I am in good company:

"Vladimir Nabokov, the author of Lolita, Nabokov said he thought the book was terrible.[citation needed] F. R. Leavis, on the other hand, declared the book to be "perfection"" Wikipedia (who is F.R.Leavis?)

Tonight, I shall watch the movie based on the novel. Then, I'd be able to say the book was a lot better than the film.

L'arma spuntata
Premetto che avevo visto il film del 2012 con Julienne Moore e mai e poi mai avrei pensato che fosse tratto da un romanzo di Henry James. Nel leggere il romanzo, mi sono resa conto dell'unversalità di questa storia, che potrebbe essere ambientata in un periodo storico indeterminato.
La piccola Maisie si trova a essere oggetto di contesa tra due genitori separati e viene usata come arma per ferire l'altra parte. La piccola si affeziona alle due governanti che si prendono cura di lei: La signora Wix a casa della madre e la più giovane signora Beale a casa del padre, che in seguito diventerà la sua matrigna. Anche la madre si risposa con Sir Claude, a cui la bambina si affeziona tantissimo, perché si prende cura di lei molto più del suo stesso padre. Ma sembra che sia la signora Beale che Sir Claude siano solo dei personaggi temporanei nelle vite dei genitori di Maisie, che ormai non si servono più di Maisie per ferirsi, perché sono andati avanti, e Maisie adesso è un'arma spuntata che non serve più a nessuno e che si ritrova a essere una patata bollente per i due genitori (che presto se ne andranno all'estero, la madre in Sudafrica e il padre negli USA), che ne cedono la patria potestà ai relativi consorti (diventati anche loro degli ex).
Ma Maisie non può essere un'ex figlia! Invece, adesso che è diventata un'arma spuntata, sembra che chi dovrebbe volerle più bene se ne dimentichi addirittura.
Un libro dolorosissimo, all'epoca considerato un libro d'avanguardia, e che oggi è ancora attualissimo.

If you hate paragraph breaks, you will love this book.