n  n    Book Reviewn  n
3+ out of 5 stars for The Portrait of a Lady, a classic story called the "Great American Novel," written by Henry James in 1881. I adore Henry James and found great enjoyment in his literary works when I began reading him in my freshmen year at college. As an English major, I was exposed to many different authors, but I felt a strong connection with him and this literary period. American realistic works spoke to me above any of the other "classic" books I had been reading. As a result, I chose Henry James as the primary focus of an independent study course I'd taken in my senior year. I read 6 or 7 of his books during those 3 months and am going back now to provide quick reviews, as not everyone finds him as enjoyable as I do. I also don't want to bore everyone with a lengthy review on how to interpret him or his books.

The Portrait of a Lady tells the story of a young woman who years to have her own life and make her own mark on the world. She doesn't want to be contained by marriage or the structure in place at the time in the late 19th century. She has different characteristics coming from American, English and continental European female archetypes. She has strong moral and ethical values. She knows who she is, yet she does not know all. As she moves through life, she makes choices that are not easy for her to execute. What I loved about this work is its deep exploratory view points, beautiful language and unparalleled characters. Though I only give it a 3, when compared to some of this other works, I would recommend you read a few chapters or sections, just to see if it is something you could find yourself getting lost in.

The impact you feel upon reading this book is questioning what is the true view of a lady, how is she different from generation to generate, location to location and societal class to societal class. James knows women. He is very accurate on many levels... wrong on a few, too. But to put out his thoughts, in a huge tome, at a time when women were beginning to get more rights... and be able to cross genres and genders... is amazing. It's less about what he says and more about how he says it. And that's why I enjoy reading him... but even I admit, I can only take 1 book every few years! :)

n  n    About Men  n
For those new to me or my reviews... here's the scoop: I read A LOT. I write A LOT. And now I blog A LOT. First the book review goes on Goodreads, and then I send it on over to my WordPress blog at https://thisismytruthnow.com, where you'll also find TV & Film reviews, the revealing and introspective 365 Daily Challenge and lots of blogging about places I've visited all over the world. And you can find all my social media profiles to get the details on the who/what/when/where and my pictures. Leave a comment and let me know what you think. Vote in the poll and ratings. Thanks for stopping by.

Todos querem casar com a Isabelinha que é rica e bonitinha...
Lord Warburton: — Isabel, quer casar comigo?
Isabel Archer: — Não. Eu quero ser independente.
Caspar Goodwood: — Isabel, case-se comigo.
Isabel Archer: — Não. Eu quero ser livre.
Ralph Touchett: — Eu gostava de me casar com a Isabel, mas não lhe vou dizer nada porque sei que ela não quer.
Gilbert Osmond: — Isabel, tem de casar comigo.
Isabel Archer: — Hum... agora que já passeei um pouco bem que podia casar...

É assim o Retrato de Uma Senhora. Quem quer casar. Quem não quer casar. Quem casa. Quem não casa. Quem queria casar e não casou. Quem casou e não gostou.
650 páginas disto...e estou a pensar que me casaria com Henry James: um chato do piorio mas extraordinariamente fascinante e envolvente.

A história não vale um caracol; as personagens (muito bem caracterizadas) são umas criaturinhas muito insípidas; o prazer da leitura reside totalmente na narrativa.

Tiro uma estrelinha para fazer dois parzinhos...


(Knut Ekwall, Proposal)

A work of wonder displaying the naivete' and mistakes of youth and some Americans' missteps in life choices that were driven by gullible and romantic notions of and in Europe. The novel still feels fresh and timely.

I was driven from this novel, after beginning it a few years back, by both its bulk and by my dislike of Washington Square (see, if you will, my caustic review of both the book and the author). I am pleased to have returned to The Portrait of a Lady, so that, finally, I can appreciate the depth of character and psychological acuity of Henry James' writing.

As much as I disliked Washington Square (and was unimpressed by his novella The Beast in the Jungle), I prized this esteemed classic of fiction. I might even return a number of his novels to my TBR list.

10 Things I Love About Henry James’s The Portrait Of A Lady

1. Isabel Archer
The “lady” in the title. Beautiful, young, headstrong and spirited, the American woman visits her wealthy relatives in England, rejects marriage proposals by two worthy suitors, inherits a fortune and then is manipulated into marrying one of the most odious creatures on the planet, Gilbert Osmond. She’s utterly fascinating, and if I were back in university, I imagine having long conversations and arguments about her character. What does she want: Freedom? The ability to choose, even if it’s a bad choice? Is she a projection of James’s latent homosexuality? Is she a feminist or not? There are no simple answers.

2. The Prose and Psychological Complexity
Damn, James knew how to write long, luxuriant sentences that dig deep into his characters’ minds. Sometimes the effect can be claustrophobic – get me out of this person’s head! – but more often it’s utterly compelling and convincing. We partly read fiction to learn about other people’s lives, right? Well, James does that. (The exceptions: Isabel’s two wealthy, handsome suitors, Warburton and Goodwood, are less than believable, and remind me of eager (or horny?) dogs, their tails wagging whenever they’re around their love/lust object.)

3. The Story
Okay, not much really happens. But as the book progressed, even though I sort of knew the outcome (it’s hard to avoid spoilers from a 135-year-old classic), I was increasingly curious to see how Isabel would act. In fact, I raced through the final chapters, breathlessly. Who knew: Henry James, page-turner! And have a theory about that ending? Take your turn...

4. The Humour
It’s not a comedy, but there are lots of amusing bits. James’s narrator is genial and funny. Henrietta Stackpole, her gentleman friend, Mr. Bantling, and even Gilbert Osmond’s sister, the Countess Gemini, are all very colourful characters who elicit a chuckle or two. And Isabel’s aunt can be terribly cutting as well. I love Ralph (Isabel's cousin) and the dignified British Lord Warburton’s reactions to the enterprising, no-fuss American “lady journalist” Henrietta.

5. The Settings
Each one is significant: from the stately Gardencourt, home of Isabel’s relatives the Touchetts, to the bustle and anonymity of London, to the ruins of Rome, where Isabel finds herself stuck in a dead, fossilized marriage. James is a master at finding the right place to stage a scene. I could write an essay about interiors and exteriors in the book, but I’ll spare you.

6. The Villains
Madame Merle and Gilbert Osmond: individually they’re sinister, but together they’re positively Machiavellian. In fact, in one scene, it’s revealed that they both like Machiavelli, and Isabel doesn’t get the clue! They totally play her. And yet they’re believable, too. Osmond’s scene in which he professes his love is brilliant in its manipulation; and the final turn of the screw (asking her to do him a favour!) is very clever. Madame Merle’s motivations always keep you guessing. Does she see herself in Isabel? Is she jealous? Does she just want to exert her power over her? The scene in which Isabel sees both in her home, conspiring (evident from their attitudes) is so powerful James refers to it a couple of times. And of course, it’s missing from the Jane Campion film (see below).

7. The Themes
Does money corrupt? What do you really know about someone before you marry? What is the true nature of freedom? What happens when New World (American) "innocence" meets Old World (European) "experience"? All these themes – and many others – come across naturally, and never feel shoe-horned into the story.

8. The Technique
I remember hearing people go on about the architecture of Henry James’s novels, and this one is sturdily, handsomely built. The book begins and ends in the same setting. And there are some ingenious sections in the middle, where time has passed and the reader discovers major information through conversations. Like any great writer, James knows what to leave out. He makes you do work to fill in the pieces, but the novel becomes more memorable because of that. And he bridges the Victorian and Modern eras, in the same way that Beethoven bridges the Classical and Romantic eras.

9. Chapter 42
After a huge blowup with Osmond, Isabel stays up all night, staring into the fireplace, and ponders her life, thinking: "How did I get here?" James considered it one of the best things he’d ever written, and although I haven’t read a lot of his work (which I will soon remedy), I’d have to agree. It’s right up there with Hamlet’s soliloquies.

10. The Fact that the Book Doesn't Lend Itself Well To Adaptation
A couple days after finishing the book, I watched the Campion film starring Nicole Kidman. Besides an evocative score and a brilliant performance by Barbara Hershey as Madame Merle and a suitably slimy one by John Malkovich (basically changing costumes from his Dangerous Liaisons character), it was dreadfully dull. There have been other James adaptations – The Wings Of The Dove, The Golden Bowl, The Bostonians – but none of these films has achieved the critical or popular success of an Age Of Innocence, Howards End or Room With A View. Maybe it's hard to get that psychological complexity onscreen? Read the books.

***
Conclusion: James is The Master. Up til now, I’d only read his shorter works, like the novellas “The Turn Of The Screw,” “Daisy Miller” and “The Beast In The Jungle.” Now I’m eyeing his other major novels; perhaps I’ll even get through the notoriously difficult late period James. Can't wait to try!

Isabel Archer is an enigma. When we first meet her there was something splendid in her charm, her openness, and her candor. Fresh. Yes, that is the word. She wanted to take charge of her life.

Rich men like Lord Warburton and Caspar Goodwood fall head over heals all over her and want to marry her. She is aloof and says no to these offers. She seemed very much in control of her life. She impresses her sickly cousin Ralph Touchett.

When she inherits a large amount of money (thanks to her cousin), it allows her to choose what she wants to do in life. Not bad start. In the fashion of the day, she heads to Italy to travel and then see the world.

Except this is where she meets the expatriate Gilbert Osmond via a mysterious Madame Merle. Osmond is an eccentric who has lofty values, a meek daughter Pansy, who he raises in a convent, but has no real money. What to do? Easy, marry Isabel for her money.

This is the time of class and wealth and marry to climb that social ladder. Is Isabel too much of an idealist? Why does she seem to change when she marries Osmond? Why does she defend Osmond so adamantly to the point of annoying her friends? Why does she take her husband’s view on marrying off his daughter to someone with money? Didn’t she try to avoid this at all costs?

Is this part of the class image that so many fought for? It’s easy from our modern perspective to dismiss these issues but Henry James digs deep. At times Isabel seemed like a lost case. Her friend Henrietta Stackpole and her cousin Ralph, work hard to to get Isabel to see where she is in her marriage. It is a big pit and it takes a lot of work to see the surface.

It is no easy ride. I stuck with the book, but to be honest, Isabel punched the limits of patience with me. Thankfully James explained a lot but one can see, no relationship is ever easy. Why we stay and why we leave are never simple solutions.

Old. Dead. White. Gay? Why should it even matter, you say? Well, I think it does and it doesn’t. Any of the above distinctions matter in a sense of circumstance, because certainly a rich white person living in the late 1800s and early 1900s had a day-to-day life that was much, much different than a poor, newly-freed slave living in the American South, for example. It’s also, I believe, a mistake to discount one’s superficial descriptors completely when it comes to their art—even down to one’s prose style (and James’ is of the highest order). It doesn’t matter in the sense that, in my belief, the best books speak to universal human traits.

Portrait of a Lady is most definitely one of those books. So why mention any of his “superficial” traits at all? I do this because it seems too often the classics are relegated in estimation to the privileged ramblings of Old Dead White Men. But what happens when you throw something like Gay into the mix? Colm Tóibín, distinguished gay novelist and author of the above-referenced article, says of James that, “[the revelation of James’ homosexuality] removed him from the realm of dead white males who wrote about posh people. He became our contemporary.” How fortunate, that after years of revisionist history (James’ family sought to hide his romantic leanings from the public for years), a writer like James could be championed by the LGBTQ community. But isn’t it also a shame that it took something besides the book itself to do this? To think that a book as rich and emotionally astute as Portrait of a Lady should be missed out on, by anybody, because of superficial—and incomplete—biographical details, is heartbreaking. Not least so because “outsiders” such as Tóibín, or any other “marginalized class of society”, are precisely the type that can appreciate James’ mastery the most. And if I want to be thorough, I’d say that everyone can benefit from a book like this.

I was not, however, so willing to take this attitude for the majority of my life. It wasn’t so much that James belonged to the group of Old Dead White dudes, but more so because of his obvious—to me—inclusion into the group of writers for which I have coined the term “Victorian Chick Lit.” Anything remotely resembling TV shows like “Avonlea” or “Downton Abbey” for me was literary anathema. I read Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey a few years ago and found myself cringing with hatred as I endured another trip to the Pump Room for coffee and trinkets. If I had to sit through another labored account of Mrs. Piccadilly frolicking amongst the tea kettles I was gunna puke. It was only after reading Jeffrey Eugenides’ brilliant The Marriage Plot and listening to his remarks on writing it, that I decided to take a deep dive into what I thought I hated the most. What I found was a veritable GOLD MINE.

Where to begin. I was captivated from the very beginning by James’ prose. In today’s world, in America, it’s easy to forget that English is a language from England and was once practiced with something like pride. That’s not to say that emoji and meme culture is horrible in itself, but it is a very nice experience to be around someone that speaks as eloquently as Henry James. It is a kind of rest for the brain to have things expressed with such care and nuance. Sure, sometimes you want heavy metal, and sometimes you want trap music—those things aren’t “bad.” But sometimes it is very good to have a bit of classical in the afternoons, as the early-Spring light falls through the windows. James is this brand of sonic-literary mood.

The psychological traits associated with this kind of music include social insight par excellence, and deep questions about what it means to be happy in a capitalist-consumerist society. The questions of how and why we choose our mates—and friends—are no less important now than they were in 1881 when this book was first printed. Do we challenge ourselves or do we settle? Can it be construed as a sin to let romantic companionship slide in hopes of achieving something greater, especially if that ideal is nebulous and undefined? My eminent teacher and literary critic Harold Bloom had this to say about the titular Lady, Ms. Archer’s, complex psyche:

She is the archetype of all those young women, in fiction or in actuality, who are pragmatically doom-eager, because they seek complete realization of their potential while maintaining an idealism that rejects selfishness.

Whoa. Replace “She” with “He” or “They”, and how many people come to resemble our heroine Isabel? What does that even mean in a moral sense? Should we be more selfish? How can one bridge the paradox of being self-reliant but selfless? That’s a question that peers into all of our souls, and the soul, for me, has never had superficial traits that can be defined in terms of gender, race, sexuality, etc.

Henry James in Portrait of a Lady doesn’t give us any answers. He doesn’t tell us why people do things, and would never seek to tell us that we should do anything at all. His refinement instead illustrates crucial enigmas of the human soul through the lens of social interaction. Everyone should read this book for one’s own benefit. Reading this allows us to ask ourselves if we aren’t in fact doom-eager. Above all, what is possibly the greatest gift this book can give us, is a warning—to not give ourselves completely to others that do not appreciate us, and avoid at all costs those who would feast on our life-force like a vampire chugging blood.

An odd choice while in a prolonged reading slump, but this one did the trick !

The Portrait of a Lady (as the title would suggest) is an astute rendering of the psychological life of Isabel Archer, a woman who reckons with two opposing needs: preserve her independent mind or conform to societal conventions of the 1860s.

I don’t usually read classics, but this one captured me within the first 40 pages. The observations are so intimate, I don’t think I will ever be able to say men don’t know how to write women because Henry James truly does. I am in awe of his documentary style observations of the human condition. The language is breathtaking and the characters are so well fleshed out you won’t even mind that the plot lags slightly in the middle. It’s well worth pushing through for the revelations of the last 50 pages.

I will ponder this book for a very long time.

I feel like I have read almost 700 pages of emptiness. This book was SO boring. It was quite interesting at the beginning; the first characters we meet at the beginning of the novel were cool, we wanted to know what happens next with them but very quickly, it's always the same story. This novel is a 100% patriarchal story and I just hated it. Despite this, it was simply empty. Only the last 100 pages were interesting, there is a little twist that makes us want to read what's next but the end is just.... I have no words. The end is just so so bad; basically, NOTHING HAPPENS??? there's nothing????? The book ends up just like this with nothing, as if it was just the end of a basic chapter. Anyway, I hated it because of the emptiness of the words, the story itself that is so long and boring, and the bad ending of the story.

I would recommend this book if you like:
- Extremely entitled and capricious main protagonist ;
- Very poor decision making ;
- Claustrophobia from being inside a character’s dull head for so many pages ;
- A true effort to convince the reader that Isabel is interesting (EVERY man is love with her, isn’t that the best proof??) while giving her the enticing personality of a plastic chair ;
- People that just sit around to discuss things and never resolve anything ;
- Pointless thoughts, interminable dives into internalized masochism and the queen of denial ;
- A character study from someone that writes like he has never met a woman in his life (or just insufferable ones) ;
- The “I’m not like other girls” of Victorian era.

No offence to Henry James but I was bored out of my mind by this book and never want to read something like this ever again. I can’t remember the last time I disliked a main character that much.

I listened to the audiobook version narrated by actor John Wood. This is the 1881 edition, not the later one from 1906, which is known as the "New York Edition". Unfortunately, the later edition, which many claim has a better ending, was not available anywhere as an audiobook.

While reading this I have been discussing it with first Simran (here: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...) and then Margaret (here: https://www.goodreads.com/user_status...)

Review: I enjoyed this book because of the author’s writing style and his humor. The humor is often sarcastic, but not nasty. The humor is based on knowledge of different cultures, life styles and human behavior. It is this that made my reading of the book enjoyable. And I believe Henry James was laughing with me at the antics of Victorian mannerisms.

So what is the theme of the book? It is set in Europe, predominantly, Italy and England, during the 1870s. The author is comparing Americans and Europeans. Having spent the first 18 years of my life in the US and thereafter having moved to Europe, of course this is the theme that drew me to the book. Henry James has beautifully captured Victorian manners and how they differed, how Americans bent them. Americans are shown to be more independent, freer, less constricted by set norms....but also amusingly naive. The characters are all well-to-do, educated and aspiring. How to succeed, how to be happy, how to get what you are striving for - those are the questions posed. Each character has followed different paths, had different goals and widely varying scruples. For the main character, Isabelle, the prime question is marriage - to marry or not to marry, who to marry and how do you balance independence and against the constraints imposed in those times by propriety. This is a question that we still grapple with today. Every couple will find a different solution; some marriages succeed and other fail and even how you define failure and success is up for grabs.

The writing is elaborate, even wordy, but Henry James has a superb vocabulary. Over and over I was amazed at his ability to grab just the right word. Yeah, this really impressed me. It is for his writing ability and his humor that I will be reading more by the author.

What I didn't like: there isn't one single successful marriage in this book, and by the way Henry James never did marry. Also, the ending is extremely abrupt. I was so shocked by the conclusion that I figured I had missed something and so I listened to the last chapters again. No, I missed nothing. You, the reader, have to stop and figure out what you think will happen. Everyone can draw their own conclusion. I know what I think. For me this is clear, and I do not want things spelled out for me, but the ending is just too abrupt! Remember I read the author's original version, not the revised 1906 version.

I will tell you this. You will get a big surprise near the end, for which, when you think about it, you realize you have been given clues.

The audiobook narration by actor John Wood was good! It is so easy to listen to classics on audiobooks; they don't mix time-lines or jump around as so many contemporary novels do. You just get the story in a straightforward manner. Nice.

Were the writers of the 19th century all psychologists before their time and specialists in the feeling of love to top it off? Like Jane Austen's books, Portrait of a Lady struck me with the accuracy of the many characters' slightest source of in-depth psychological analysis.
It is a real feat that aroused my amused admiration and the impression of a better understanding of our functioning but very few emotions. In short, a piece of the bravery of 600 pages, which sometimes makes one think a little of Machiavelli or Dangerous Liaisons and, in my eyes, has not aged a bit, except perhaps for the sometimes very convoluted style and requires great concentration.
The novel portrays Isabel Archer, a free, intelligent, and beautiful young American who dreams of discovering Europe and life more ambitiously. Around such a heroine, there is no lack of suitors, schemers, and faithful. Isabel sometimes knows how to recognize them and make the right choices. But not always. Occasionally, she goes straight into the trap, especially as she wants to be independent in the face of her friends who have warned her. Moreover, his bad choices, stubbornness, and difficulties are the most exciting and realistic, making the book much more than a learning novel, a little cutesy and complicated.
Ironic and disillusioned but also courageous and generous, this portrait of a woman (which could moreover be in the plural as Mme Merle, Henrietta, Mrs. Touchet, and Pansy are present) deserves its place in the museum or your library.

RTC