I'm about halfway through this book. For such a slim volume it is shocking how long it is taking me to finish this. It's so boring! Don't tell me I'm not a sophisticated reader: I appreciate and love plenty of books wherein "nothing happens." Take a look at Henry James, nothing hardly ever happens- the climax of action is someone not doing anything, or glancing, or sneezing, and then pages upon pages ensure analyzing that nothing/glance/sneeze until the protagonist realizes that life is unalterably changed forever. But Room with a View is different, there is left nothing to the imagination- everything i hopelessly two-dimensional or obvious. Maybe it is because it's a "social novel" about class and all that other boring crap British writers seem so hung up about in the most obvious ways. Here's basically how the first half of Room with a View goes, abridged:

PART ONE.
Lucy Honeychurch was a pretty English girl visiting Florence. Everyone knew she was rich, because her family owned acres of property in England, and land is very important to English people. She wasn't from London, she was just a rich country woman, which made her conventional. She was travelling in Florence with a spinster aunt, because all pretty English girls have spinster aunts for the express purpose of accompanying them on their travels to the continent. No one spoils fun quite like a spinster aunt. They arrive in Florence to find that their room doesn't have a view. This is the worst thing that has ever happened to Lucy. It was like getting to school and finding apple juice in her lunchbox, when she had explicitly said she only liked grape juice. Near as she was to tears, she tried best to restrain herself, when by miracle of fiction, two men, an funny old man and his mute son, appear and offer her their room, because anyway, men don't even like views! After deliberating for a day about the propriety of taking the men's rooms, they do so, and views are never mentioned again- they don't even seem to appreciate the view that their womanness has been programmed to appreciate. Lucy sees some man murdered, and gets blood all over her postcards which cost her seven lira. George Emerson (the son) arrives and throws her bloody postcards in the river, a gesture which inexplicably distresses Lucy. She resolves never to see him again, because he litters. She sees him again because she can't control anything, and is forced to spend time with people whose company she alternately enjoys and loaths. George Emerson kisses her in a field of violets, innocently, like two middle schoolers (probably a horrible kisser), and Lucy's world ends and she is shipped off to Rome to look at buildings or pray.

PART TWO.
In Rome, Lucy and Mr. Vyse get engaged. She says "no" twice but ultimately he stalks/harrasses/wears her down and forces a maybe of out of her. He returns with her to England and finds everyone she loves to be an idiot. He thinks he is being clever by inviting the Emersons to live in the same country neighborhood. Lucy hates this. It is the second worst thing that has happened to her (since the room sans view fiasco).

I don't deal with romance much. It's a trait that's bled over from real life experiences into my tastes for a very long time, but it wasn't until recently that I started vivisecting it for more credible reasons than "I don't like chick flicks/soap operas/other degenerating names for lovey dovey things that females are supposed to like". If there's one thing I've learned, it's that something is always wrong at the heart of things whenever the word "female" is incorporated into an instinctive dislike.

The word "female" is also a major hint. Now, I don't socialize with as often or with as many people in real life as the average person, but even I've picked up on myriad tropes of conversation that are ubiquitous for females in their twenties, aka me: Do you have a boyfriend? No? Oh, are you looking for one? No? Oh, you're not interested in a boyfriend? Don't you want kids? Now take that and apply it to every form of media aimed at women, from book to movie to television commercial and everything in between. Being someone with far greater interests in more important issues than the future of my womb, this omnipresent intrusiveness is annoying enough without actively seeking it out in entertainment centered around romance, or rather the series of male fantasies society likes to pretend is acceptable for anyone and everyone.

In short, if you want to sell me a romance, it either needs to avoid the problematic tropes or subvert them entirely, period. Life is short and made even shorter by the majority of others you converse with constantly bringing up a problematic version of love and sex and all that jazz, and as consequence I have no time for that shit in my literature. The issue's insidious enough that even female authors don't realize it most of the time, so let me get to the point already and explain just what I'm doing with this book that all signs say should be putting me off forevermore.

Had it not been for reading Howards End immediately previous, I would have spent the majority of A Room with a View expecting Forster to fail. It's obvious why the latter is far more popular than the former: lots of comedy, lots of twists and turns, lots of outrageous characters, and a minimal amount of the juicy expoundings of thought and form and Big Ideas that I so adored in the previous. Both works operate through a female main character, but in ARwaV it is not until the very end that Forster is giving said character credit for her own intelligent autonomy, thereby showing me that he did indeed know what he was doing.

It's not perfect. I could bring up the usual Edwardian White English Male excuse, but seeing as how this work does romance magnitudes better than the majority of modern day works by both sexes (don't be lazy and consign it to Nora Roberts/50 SoG, that's instinctive dislike based on the word "female" and you know it), I'll forgo the easy "sign of the times" classification. What interests me more is how Forster handled his balance between social justice and individual happiness, less masterful here than in HE but all the more potent for its seeming conformation to the stereotypical "happy ending". True, Lucy running away from George to would have unequivocally demonstrated her refusal to be defined by a man, but in exchange she would be defined by a society with an inherently problematic view of relations between women and men. Love is a human thing that is only achieved through mutual respect and complete lack of defining the other party by their respective parts; Forster's awareness of this, as well as his acknowledgement of the efforts men need to make as consequence of their ideology based privilege, won the day.

Also, he did make me giggle a few times. That's always worth something.

This is me coming late to Forster. I read and loved A Passage to India in university, but a person hardly wants to start at the peak and then circle back to earlier comedies of manners, and somewhere along the line I started conflating Forster with Evelyn Waugh, who I’ve never been terribly impressed by, and I never cared much for the Merchant Ivory films either and so here we are, twenty years later, reading A Room With a View and OH!

It reminded me quite a bit of Austen, with its decorous romances and social satire, but somewhere along the line it takes a stranger tone, people start throwing around the words Love and Passion and Youth not entirely satirically and the mild diversion of seeing whether Lucy Honeychurch will marry the right man or the wrong man suddenly becomes very serious, this is not about romance, this is about darkness and light, the state of one’s soul, the way to be a real person in the world. And there is a dizzying reversal in the line, late in the book: “the night received her, as it had received Miss Bartlett thirty years before.”

So: Forster is not Waugh, and this is a charmingly serious book or a seriously charming book, one thing or the other, and Forster had mastered a tone of knowing everything, and also of knowing what’s important, and of maintaining the reader’s confidence in that tone, at the age of 29, the bastard.

my third forster book - I enjoyed this for it's soapiness and drama. It's also very evocative of place, and funny in places. Liked the commentary on society and social norms (but it's forster, so duh).

maurice > a room with a view > where angels fear to tread.

Absolutely amazing. I love E.M. Forster - his writing is beautiful, his dialogue perfectly pitched, and the way he writes about love just amazing. I also love the way this novel looks at "respectability" and the position of women in Edwardian society.

No Room with No View (2020 Edition)

"They had no business to do it,” said Miss Bartlett, "no business at all. We were promised south rooms with a view close together, instead of which we have no rooms, with no view, and are unable to even enter the country. Oh, Lucy."

"I should have liked to see the dolphins now swimming in the Venice canals," said Lucy (she hadn't yet read the article saying this was not true). "But perhaps it's for the best, given--" But Lucy decided it was wiser not to bring up her cousin's age. "Oh, it is a shame!" She remained awestruck--she couldn't help herself--by the rate at which Mother Nature flourished, given the absence of human beings.

A Room with a View by E.M Forster what a delight! This is a Wharton-like comedic piece taking a cynical look at the chattering classes, it is also a love story – a magnificent love story!

We start in the beautiful city of Florence in the early 1900s – where a small group of English well-to-doers are sharing a guesthouse – nattering, bickering, gossiping and drinking tea. It seems most of this group were held captive by the suffocating requirements of high-society and all its associated social mores of the times. Our main character Lucy is a likeable but flighty young thing and is being chaperoned by her cousin, Miss Bartlett. Now I found this cousin of Lucy’s particularly unlikable, she is a bit of a ‘stick in the mud’ and sounds like dreadful company and not a good influence on lovely Lucy at all.

To provide some insight into how the English upper crust viewed locals when overseas, read these comments which were particularly discomforting:

”I quite agree with you, Miss Allen, The Italians are a most unpleasant people”

”An Italian’s ignorance is sometimes more remarkable than his knowledge”

There’s a couple of religious blokes along for the ride – Mr Beebe (a rector back home) a good natured and harmless fellow, and then there’s Mr Eager an ex-pat, living in Florence who is particularly detestable. Uuuuurrrgghh – but the most disagreeable of all for me was the poisonous Cecil Vyse. This man, who ensnares the delightful Lucy into engagement – is rich, upper-class, negative, snide, a smart arse, a know all and boorish (and they are his better qualities!).

Any story like this needs a hero – and this spot is capably filled by the old Mr Emerson wonderfully assisted by his son George. These guys are great, particularly Dad – he speaks his mind, is generous of spirit and a very open book. But he tends to offend those around him, which is hardly surprising.

Oh my, what a suffocatingly proper bunch.

So for those who haven’t read this classic, this is a love story – like any good love story, the progression to the desired outcome and be bloody agonising, there were times I felt like jumping into the page and giving those concerned a good shaking (dangerous I know!!!) and making them stop, listen and see – and just follow your feelings and your hearts!

Sometimes love stories are the most suspenseful of all.

This was truly sumptuous. Not only does Forster describe the place of Florence (and Rome – see Baths of Caracalla pic – sorry I tend to relate everything to Rome!) beautifully, but he also creates the scenes making the reader feel like we are there. However, some of the depictions of the Italians were not so flattering. He describes the intricate dynamics between the stuffy characters brilliantly. Very tongue in cheek at times – not quite as biting/funny as Wharton though in my view. Forster also describes the inner-workings of women so well, (Disclaimer – see I am a fella…..”Mark”, so I cannot be 100% sure) and all of their associated dramas.



Lucy was lucky enought to visit the Baths of (that bastard) Caracalla - one of the nastiest Emperors of Ancient Rome, and a complete tool. But this complex was very impressive

This is a page-turner, it wasn’t unusual for me to go to bed at 1am, I read and enjoyed this slowly.

This afternoon I will shut the curtains and blinds, make a cup of tea (grab a couple of Oreos – not English I know), crank up the volume and enjoy. Oh boy the film had better do this story justice!

5 Stars

Movie comments to follow…..The Movie was excellent of course updated 22/05/2023

“'Life,' wrote a friend of mine, 'is a public performance on the violin, in which you must learn the instrument as you go along.'”

8/3/23: Listening to this 1908 E.M. Forster novel for the first time after having read it decades ago and (of course) having seen the lovely and hilarious film many times. I dedicate this reading to the wonderful and adventurous Julian Sands, a nature boy playing George, a nature boy! Rest in Peace. Julian! And I read this summer book to reclaim a bit of this frighteningly brutally hot summer back with Forster's gracious prose. Viva Italia! Viva the Emersons and Mr. Beebe!

Viva the life of the Emersonian spirit:

https://www.google.com/search?sca_esv...

8/4/23: What I am noticing on this reread is the light under-current of acknowledging the homosexuality of Mr. Beebe, an "admirer" of women but best to "live alone." Forster writes Beebe, gay, in a 1908 novel; trying to claim a place for himself and his gay (and non-homophobic) readers in his text.

*I have no idea early on why the Emersons would have any interests in the shallow Lucy Honeychurch (the very Church of Honey!?), who never smiles or has an interesting insight for most of the book. Oh, I know, this is what the book is about, a coming-of-age novel, the awakening of Lucy, but it is amusing (but still disappointing) that she agrees readily to marry the smug fop Cecil (oh, Daniel Day Lewis, so wonderful). This is a satirical novel, a critique of social conventions where having a "view" in a hotel while traveling is seen as more important than having open, kind, generous views about others and each other. Maggie Smith as Charlotte! Deliciously vapid! What a fine (and light, not nasty) send-up of British snobbery, of upper class Brits failing to fully appreciate the Italians or the beauty of Italy. So much fun. And yes, we in this country, the US, have plenty send-ups of Ugly Americans, I know, my Brit friends. It's not dark satire, at any rate.

*I like the undercurrent of political/social commentary in the book. Emerson is an open atheist and an avowed socialist, in addition to being a clear sensualist.

*Speaking of Julian Sands playing George; as you know Sands died in a storm on a strenuous hike. In Room With a View George is also lost in a storm, and Lucy cries,"Lost? Lost? Oh but he might be killed!" A weird moment, a little chilling to read it now.

*I like the mildly homo-erotic (?) pond bathing scene where George, Freddy and Mr. Beebe get nekkid and splash around joyously together as their stuffy neighbors pass by, including Lucy and Cecil.

8/5: I had forgotten all the later chapter titles, "Lucy Lies to Cecil," "Lucy Lies to George," "Lucy Lies to Mister Beebe," and so on. She's in self-denial, and needs to come to self-awareness.

I love it that Miss Lavish, the novelist they all meet in Florence, writes them into her novel of Italy, including information Charlotte had promised not to tell anyone. Hearing Cecil reading scenes to the group without awareness that Lavish was describing the group is funny.

I have still been struggling to see why it is such an Emersonian sensualist as George might fall in love with such a victim of social convention such as Lucy Honeychurch, but it is through music that she betrays her passion, the clearest indication that she has the potential to be an independent spirt (which is the only foundation for a relationship that George would ever agree to). And that's the point, that this is a coming-of-age story for Lucy, who must break through the walls of conventionality to be her own person. music is part of the road she takes to self-discovery.

“Does it seem reasonable that she should play so wonderfully, and live so quietly? I suspect that one day she will be wonderful in both. The water-tight compartments in her will break down, and music and life will mingle.”

Maybe this gets spoilerish for anyone who has not yet read or seen this, but I love the break-up
scene, where Forster makes the good Cecil into an actual sympathetic character! Only a great writer like Forster could do that, but it's consistent with Forster's view about kindness and connection. Cecil is not good with people, and that is the most important thing in life, to care about each other, so we can't finally be mean about Cecil.

“We cast a shadow on something wherever we stand, and it is no good moving from place to place to save things; because the shadow always follows. Choose a place where you won't do harm - yes, choose a place where you won't do very much harm, and stand in it for all you are worth, facing the sunshine.”

I love love love George's passionate declaration for Lucy; powerful and convincing.

“This desire to govern a woman—it lies very deep, and men and women must fight it together.... But I do love you surely in a better way than he does." He thought. "Yes—really in a better way. I want you to have your own thoughts even when I hold you in my arms.”

I love the final discussion between Mr. Emerson (“Mistrust all enterprises that require new clothes.”) and Lucy, where he confronts her on her self-deception and lies.

“It isn't possible to love and part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal"--Mr. Emerson (hey, it's a romance!: “Passion should believe itself irresistible. It should forget civility and consideration and all the other curses of a refined nature. Above all, it should never ask for leave where there is a right of way.”)

“Do you remember Italy?” I do!

"From her feet the ground sloped sharply into the view, and violets ran down in rivulets and streams and cataracts, irrigating the hillside with blue, eddying round the tree stems, collecting into pools in the hollows, covering the grass with spots of azure foam. But never again were they in such profusion; this terrace was the well-head, the primal source whence beauty gushed out to water the earth."
- E. M. Forster "A Room With A View"

The whole story builds around a great metaphor in the title, that of a view.
The characters are classified gradually into two categories: those attached to rooms, walls, and conventions and those connected to nature, youth, hope, and change.
Lucy, the heroine, is at the crossroads of these two worlds: she has a room with a view. From there, it is easy to understand that the short story will be a story of emancipation, not only from the conventions of its time but from society in general, making a timeless book.

I was overjoyed to discover that this book I had liked when I was in high school was even more charming and lovely than I remembered.

I'm not sure what impelled me to suddenly reread this novel about a young Englishwoman, Lucy Honeychurch, whose life is transformed after she visits Italy, but I'm glad I did. Forster's language is so inviting and engaging that as soon as I started reading, I didn't want to put down the book.

The story opens at a hotel in Florence, and Lucy is being chaperoned by her meddling and fussy cousin, Charlotte Bartlett. The two ladies are upset that their rooms don't have a view of the Arno, but at dinner, a loud Englishman, Mr. Emerson, offers to switch rooms with them. After some awkward exchanges, the ladies finally agree to the deal. (Since this was the early 1900s, delicate things were not discussed and caused much embarrassment among gentlefolk.)

Over the next few days, Lucy often crossed paths with George, Mr. Emerson's son, and during an outing to the country, George surprised her by kissing her passionately. While Lucy didn't realize it at the time, that kiss ended up changing her life.

OK, I hate writing summaries of classic novels because it feels like I'm writing a high school book report, so I'm going to assume that anyone who takes the time to read this review is already familiar with the rest of the plot, thanks to the popularity of the Merchant-Ivory film. (Oh, how I loved that movie when I was young! It was definitely one of the things that set me on the path to becoming an anglophile.) If you are reading this review and don't know the rest of the story, well, golly, I'm not going to ruin it for you here!

Besides being gorgeously written, this book is endearing for how Forster gave Lucy a chance to be her own person. There are several quotes about women that showed how progressive Forster was, and that was refreshing. Lucy was also so passionate about music that her parson was fond of saying he hoped she would learn to live as vibrantly as she played. When Lucy gets into a muddle over her whether or not to marry the uptight Cecil, she makes a grand speech about not wanting to be locked up, and wanting to have her own thoughts. Brava, Lucia!

I loved this book so much that I will keep it on my shelf for future reads. Highly recommended. Now I need to reread Howard's End and see how that holds up.

Funniest Quote by Cecil
"All modern books are bad ... Every one writes for money in these days."

Funniest Quote by Lucy's Mother
"[N]othing roused Mrs. Honeychurch so much as literature in the hands of females. She would abandon every topic to inveigh against those women who (instead of minding their houses and their children) seek notoriety by print. Her attitude was: 'If books must be written, let them be written by men.'"

Favorite Quotes
"Let yourself go. Pull out from the depths those thoughts you do not understand, and spread them out in the sunlight and know the meaning of them. By understanding George you may learn to understand yourself. It will be good for both of you."

"It so happened that Lucy, who found daily life rather chaotic, entered a more solid world when she opened the piano. She was then no longer either deferential or patronizing; no longer either a rebel or a slave. The kingdom of music is not the kingdom of this world; it will accept those whom breeding and intellect and culture have alike rejected. The commonplace person begins to play, and shoots into the empyrean without effort, whilst we look up, marveling how he has escaped us, and thinking how we could worship him and love him, would he but translate his visions into human words, and his experiences into human actions. Perhaps he cannot; certainly he does not, or does so very seldom. Lucy had done so never."

"Why were most big things unladylike? Charlotte had once explained to her why. It was not that ladies were inferior to men; it was that they were different. Their mission was to inspire others to achievement rather than to achieve themselves. Indirectly, by means of tact and a spotless name, a lady could accomplish much. But if she rushed into the fray herself she would be first censured, then despised, and finally ignored. Poems had been written to illustrate this point."

"Life, so far as she troubled to conceive it, was a circle of rich, pleasant people, with identical interests and identical foes. In this circle, one thought, married and died. Outside it were poverty and vulgarity for ever trying to enter, just as the London fog tries to enter the pinewoods pouring through the gaps in the northern hills. But, in Italy, where any one who chooses may warm himself in equality, as in the sun, this conception of life vanished. Her senses expanded; she felt that there was no one whom she might not get to like, that social barriers were irremovable, doubtless, but not particularly high. You jump over them just as you jump into a peasant's olive-yard in the Apennines, and he is glad to se you. She returned with new eyes."

"A rebel she was, but not of the kind [Cecil] understood — a rebel who desired, not a wider dwelling-room, but equality beside the man she loved. For Italy was offering her the most priceless of all possessions — her own soul."

"[S]he reflected that it is impossible to foretell the future with any degree of accuracy, that it is impossible to rehearse life. A fault in the scenery, a face in the audience, an irruption of the audience on to the stage, and all our carefully planned gestures mean nothing, or mean too much."

They say that travelling builds character. Was it ever more true than in this light, lovely little tale, where a visit to Florence will forever change the young Lucy Honeychurch (what a name!!)? “A Room with a View” seems simple enough at first glance. The young woman falls in love with the charms of Italy and with an unconventional young man, and must ultimately decide whether she will marry him or a wealthy, exasperating douche. Yes, it’s quaint and predictable, and once you’ve seen the exceedingly charming Merchant Ivory movie, you can’t get the beautiful pictures out of your head.

But the writing! Oh my GAWD, the writing! Forster’s prose is lyrical and evocative, not too heavy, just sweet enough to make you lick your lips. Many, many books have tried to convince their readers that being yourself is the right thing to do. But how many have said it as eloquently and as poetically as “A Room with a View”? The Honeychurch family is quite respectable, but they have a well-controlled wild streak. Lucy’s cousin Charlotte tries her best to discourage it, but acquaintance with the fellow boarders of the Pension Bertolini tease out something in Lucy, something she didn’t really know was there to begin with, but shines a new light on her well-ordered, well-mannered world.

Lucy figures herself out slowly, but when she does, she just sheds her shrinking violet skin to become an absolutely awesome, assertive bad-ass: “I won’t be protected. I will choose for myself what is ladylike and right. To shield me is an insult. Can’t I be trusted to face the truth but I must get it second-hand through you? (…) I won’t be stifled, not by the most glorious music, for people are more glorious, and you hide them from me.” Oh, Lucy, I know exactly how you feel… Her evolution and maturing is so impressive: she wants to see the world, know the things and when she finally realizes that she will never be happy with the ordinary life planned out for her by her family and her fiancé’s family, I was so proud of her! She starts out sheltered and naïve and becomes brave and strong: she stands up to both Cecil and George because she decided “Damn you both, I’m going to be me!”.

I must confess that I have a huge book-crush on George Emerson. He is romantic, but also very pragmatic; passionate but practical. And seriously, who wouldn’t swoon for a man who says such things as: “This desire to govern a woman – it lies very deep, and men and women must fight it together… But I do love you surely in a better way then he does. Yes – really in a better way. I want you to have your own thoughts even when I hold you in my arms.” He wants her to think for herself, he has substance, he evolves… And he’s a socialist, to boot! Someone bring me smelling salts!

Seriously, this a wonderfully plotted little book about figuring yourself out and seizing the things that make you happy. Contrasts and challenges pepper the story and make it feels nuanced and balanced. The characters are wonderfully developed, their voices clear as bells and you end up loving even the more nerve-grating ones (I’m looking at you, Charlotte!). Do not dismiss this as simple rom-com despite the fainting spells, kisses at sunset and so on. This is a joyful book to read, but there is so much more to it than the love triangle: there’s a reflection about how society expects you to behave, gender equality and what it really means to be “proper”.

I cannot recommend this book enough! It’s an easy-to-read classic with lovable characters, laugh out loud funny moments and a perfectly satisfying ending.