I tried to read this book around 10 years ago and abandoned it pretty quickly.  What a difference timing makes. This time I was easily pulled into Jame's lusciously descriptive prose.  To borrow a phrase from the Hamilton play, he put me right in "in the room where it happened".    I was transported into this time and place vividly and intimately.

It's hard to review this book without spoilers so I'll just say that Isabel is now one of my favorite literary characters. She's is a well-read woman of great imagination and independence who judges people on their own merits rather than letting others' opinions influence her.  She has admirable ideas that prove to be unrealistic when it comes to love.  

Besides being about Isabel, it's also a great deal about the differences between American and European culture.  I would have certainly thought the American way of courtship and matchmaking was superior, but now I'm not so sure.  There are clear flaws in both.  One thing that's clear is that whether people are well-intentioned or not, they can take you off the path you have planned for yourself.   

I loved the somewhat open ending that left room for our imaginations to take Isabel where we thought her imagination could take her.

Un capolavoro fra i capolavori.
Un personaggio splendido, Isabel Archer, la Nuova Ragazza Americana che rifugge anche la più dorata gabbia matrimoniale pur di non rinunciare al suo sogno di totale ed inattaccabile indipendenza, che finisce per trasformarsi nell'antitesi della contemporanea Nora di Ibsen, attuando una ribellione al contrario che la porta non a sbattersi definitivamente la porta di una vita infelice alle spalle ma a rinchiudersi consapevolmente all'interno di essa.
Splendide anche le altre figure femminili presenti nel romanzo, soprattutto alla luce dei loro rapporti con Isabel; la non bella Madame Merle, descritta tuttavia come incredibilmente affascinante, abile manipolatrice degli stessi pensieri della protagonista della quale si finge amica; la giornalista Henrietta Stackpole, eccessiva fin quasi al ridicolo nella sua instancabile difesa dello stile di vita americano ai danni di quello britannico, annientata alla fine del romanzo in tutto il suo essere attraverso il matrimonio con il gentiluomo inglese Bantling ed il suo trasferimento definitivo in Europa, ma tuttavia sincera e sempre presente, con la sua affettuosa amicizia, per Isabel; la dolcissima Pansy, una pagina bianca; la contessa Gemini, chiacchierata e ormai totalmente priva di morale, un foglio su cui troppe mani avevano scritto, cancellato e scarabocchiato.
Un romanzo di incredibile spessore, una prosa inimitabile, il ritratto di una donna - che l'autore non descrive mai nella sua fisicità - che a poco a poco permette inconsciamente che anche tutto ciò che avrebbe dovuto garantirle l'agognata indipendenza la spinga con crescente decisione verso il baratro dell'infelicità; il tutto, simboleggiato dal personaggio di Ralph Touchett, forse fra tutti l'unico veramente innamorato di Isabel, l'unico a non cercare di rinchiuderla in una propria gabbia ma a spingerla, cercando di donarle ciò che ella desidera, in quella fabbricata per lei con grande ed astuta perizia da altri.
Imperdibile.

One of the most enthralling and enchanting novels that I've read in a long, long time. The Portrait of a Lady is early Henry James (written in 1881), and as cliche as it may sound, it is a veritable masterpiece. There is simply so much going on within the covers of this elegantly crafted and sophisticated novel that it will take me a while to sort out my swirling thoughts and emotions upon finishing it. Simply put though, this is the story of the young American woman, Isabel Archer, and her voyage of self-discovery among the staid and traditional landscape of British and European society. Isabel's ability to 'choose', and the 'choices' she makes are the thread that is carefully woven throughout the novel, and it raises her stature as a fictional heroine, in my opinion, to the level of that of an Anna Karenina or Dorothea Brooke. The novel's Chapter Forty-Two--with Isabel, by herself, sitting in the darkened room thinking for most of the night--is perhaps the greatest psychological tour-de-force I've encountered in fiction. I reread that chapter probably four times in a row, and simply marveled at the creative genius that is Henry James in writing this novel and creating the character of Isabel Archer. Stunning stuff!

This is an immensely powerful and profound novel that I am going to reread again very soon. I want to reread it in conjunction with a reading of Michael Gorra's recent book, Portrait of a Novel: Henry James and the Making of an American Masterpiece, a runner-up for the 2013 Pulitzer Prize for biography and autobiography. Give me a couple of weeks to reread The Portrait of a Lady and Gorra's book, and I'll be back in an effort to provide a more comprehensive review that will do justice to what just may be the 'Great American Novel'.

Update July 7, 2024--

I just finished my second careful reading of The Portrait of a Lady and it bears up to my earlier accolades. This is a novel of "thought balloons", sure there is a lot of verbal dialog amongst the characters, but James spends a lot of the novel on the internal thoughts of his characters and particularly those of Isabel Archer. Finally, I have to say that I find the character of Gilbert Osmond to be one of the most monstrous creations in literary fiction, rivaling that of George Eliot's 'Henleigh Mallinger Grandcourt' in her last novel, Daniel Deronda. Now, I am going to read John Banville's 2017 novel Mrs Osmond which picks up where James ended his.

***1.5***

AT LAST, I'M FREE!

This should have been approximately 400 pages shorter.

This is the sexiest novel of all time. You’re screwing up your face right now, I can tell. It is though, it’s sexy as fuck. People often want to tell you that Henry James’ greatest flaw was his lack of passion. Nabokov, if I recall correctly, labelled his work blonde. I don’t think he meant that in the way that modern readers would understand it i.e. as a synonym for dumb, but rather as one for bland. Katherine Mansfield once said of E.M. Forster that he was like a lukewarm teapot [ha!], and that description also seems to nicely sum up the prevailing attitude towards James. It’s wrong though, that attitude; I’ve read numerous Henry James novels and I am of the opinion that he was a firecracker, a sexual viper.

Read the first 100 pages of Portrait of a Lady and then try and convince me that the male characters don’t all want to bash Isabel’s doors in; and that she, likewise, wants them to, or enjoys giving the impression that she wants them to. You won’t succeed. I’m serious. If you can’t see it then I conclude that you can’t recognise extreme sexual tension when it’s under your nose. The flirting is outrageous! You might think all this is cute, like 'oh [P]’s being theatrical.' I say again: I’m serious. It’s not as though I consider all so-called button-down and stuffy lit to be, in reality, hot shit; I mean, I’ve never claimed that Pride & Prejudice is really all about rimjobs and teabagging. There’s something about Henry James’ work, and this novel in particular, that seethes, writhes with unspoken frustration and desire. James’ art, the one thing that makes him stand out for me, is in how he somehow suggests, hints, implies but never outright tells you the juiciest bits of his story. It’s pretty magical really. I don’t know how to explain it; there’s a whole world beneath the surface of his work. In Portrait of a Lady I believe that world to be a sexual one. Why do all the male characters fall for Isabel? Because she is charming and pretty? Is she really all that? No, it’s because she gives the impression of being up for it; she’s, to put it more politely, sensual. She has great sex appeal, which is why she was not right for Lord Warburton, who is a bit of a sop and would make a conventional woman of her; by conventional I do not mean that he will not allow her to be herself, that he wishes to clip her emotional and intellectual wings, but that the match he is offering is conventional i.e. he is rich and handsome and terribly nice, and only a fool would turn him down.

Some people say that Portrait of a Lady is about freedom, and I agree, it is. But I think that involves sexual freedom also, although, of course, as stated, that is not made explicit. There’s a lot written in the beginning of the novel about Isabel’s independent spirit, about how she does not want to be tied down. Before she takes up with Gilbert Osmond the novel is strongly feminist in tone. This is because Isabel regards marriage as an impediment to her freedom, she rejects marriage [literally, she receives two proposals early on] as a barrier to her gaining experience [what kind of experience, huh? Huh?] and knowledge of the world. However, I would argue [as I am sure many would argue to the contrary] that the second half of the book, and by extension the whole book obviously, is feminist, because Isabel makes her choice, the one to marry Osmond, freely. It does not matter that it may be a bad choice, the important thing is that she rejected more beneficial matches in favour of the one that most pleased her. In fact Isabel says at one stage ‘to judge wrong is more honourable than to not judge at all.’

Isabel is one of the most fascinating characters I have ever encountered, because she is so extraordinarily complex, complex in a way that fictional people seldom are. She is strong-willed, arrogant, and yet thoroughly nice; she is perceptive and yet makes poor choices; she is warm and charming and yet sometimes stunningly cold. Indeed, her rejections of Lord Warburton are flawless examples of smiling iciness, of jovial dismissiveness. Isabel falls for Gilbert Osmond, to my mind, partly because he does not mindlessly adore her, does not fawn over her. He is mysterious, indolent; there is the hint of a darker side. He appears to be tired of everything, bored of everything, and so that he is interested in Isabel seems like a huge coup; it speaks to her ego. It’s pretty straightforward psychology to want most the thing that appears to be able to live without you with the least trouble. Isabel also credits herself with an original intelligence, therefore one could perhaps say that she likes Osmond, sees something great in him, precisely because others do not. However, the irony, the tragedy of their union is that Osmond is himself utterly conventional and tries to force Isabel to be so; Osmond, out of an anti-conventionality sentiment, demands that she be the most conventional wife.

Madame Merle, who first earmarks Isabel for Osmond, is often regarded as one of literature’s great villains, which is not really the case, because James’ novels don’t contain true villains. Having said that, however, there is something vile about her, despite her never really doing anything to deserve the charge. It’s James’ great art again; he makes Madame Merle a masterpiece of quiet menace. 'You are dangerous,' the Countess Gemini declares, as they chat together about the prospect of Osmond and Isabel uniting, and you quite well believe it, even without the accompanying evidence. Her entrance into the novel, her unannounced [to Isabel] presence in the Touchett’s home is strangely chilling. She is first encountered, sat with her back to Isabel, playing the piano; she strikes you as almost girlish, initially, despite her age. It made me shudder, and I don’t think I can express why that is. Ralph describes his aversion to her as being due to her having no 'black specks', no faults, and one understands that what he means by this is that only bad people appear to be perfectly good.

If Portrait of a Lady does not have a true villain, in the Dickensian sense of that word, it does at least have someone who it is very easy to hate [which is, of course, not quite the same thing]. As Isabel herself admits, Gilbert Osmond does not do a hell of a lot wrong – he does not beat her, for example – but there is certainly something disquieting about him, something not right. One only has to look to how he treats his daughter Pansy; he sees her as a kind of doll, one that is absolutely submissive to his will. She is entirely artless, which is interesting because Osmond approaches her like a work of art, as something that he has created, has formed out of his imagination; it is not a coincidence that Osmond is both an artist and a collector [he creates Pansy; he collects Isabel]. Pansy is, for me anyway, a little creepy; she is so in the way that dolls themselves are, in that they give the impression of being human, of being alive, and yet are lifeless. It is fair to say that while he may not be a wife-beater, Osmond’s attitudes towards women are suspect; he is a kind of passive-aggressive bully, a subtle misogynist.

Amongst other things Portrait of a Lady is a classic bad marriage[s] novel. The earliest indication of this is the relationship between Isabel’s Aunt and Uncle; the Uncle lives in England, and the Aunt in Florence. What kind of a marriage is that? Then there is, of course, Isabel and Gilbert. Isabel, as stated, marries Osmond, I believe, because she thrills to think that such a man might pay court to her, might be interested in her, when he takes so little interest in the world at large; she finds his attitude heroic, and his interest in her, therefore, as a boon to her sense of self-worth. Osmond, on the other hand, sees in her something that will do him credit, both financially and socially. He appreciates her, for all that she will benefit him, rather than truly loves her. This appreciation does involve admiring certain qualities she possesses, but he wants those qualities to work on other people, not on himself; for himself he would like her to be another Pansy [i.e. entirely submissive] and appears to think he can train her to be so. He enters the marriage, in a way that a lot of people do even now, believing that he can smooth her rough edges, make her perfect for him, instead of accepting and cherishing what she is. Finally, there is the courting of Pansy by Rosier and Warburton; Warburton as a Lord is, obviously, favoured by the girl’s father, but Pansy does not love him, she loves Rosier. While I won’t give away the outcome of this little love triangle, what is most interesting about it is that it again raises the question of whether one should marry to make the best match, or for love; should one use one’s head or heart when making the decision? Isabel used her heart, and came a cropper, but perhaps that was still for the best; it is better to choose with your heart and fail, than to choose with your head and benefit from it.

The edition I read from was by the Easton Press. A leather (faux)-bound book the size of a phone directory with a cloth bookmark and gilt edging and illustrations inside. I suppose that is nice, but it had this most god-awful smell every time I opened the book. And every time I opened it, I wondered to what chemicals I was exposing myself to. If I drop off the face of the earth on Goodreads it is possibly due to my demise from inhaling noxious fumes from a book!!

„тя обичаше само приятните усложнения“

Портретът на една дама или история на една самозаблуда – вземете което искате от двете за централно в романа и няма да сбъркате. За първи път чета книга на Хенри Джеймс и съм поразена от размаха му в едновременното изграждане и разплитане на човешките характери, в психологическото разнищване зад всяко действие и реплика. Което всъщност е интересно, защото въпреки изчерпателния характеров анализ на героите, така и не успях да си обясня главната героиня до самия край.

Зад пространното изложение се крие много семпла история – младата aмериканка Изабел Арчър е самопровъзгласен идеалист с много високи изисквания към себе си и другите и с високи духовни стремежи. Попадайки в Англия, скоро Изабел се оказва богата наследница, която най-накрая може да осъществи желанията си да пътува и опознае живота, а предложенията за брак от английски лорд и американски предприемач са само досадни подробности по пътя. Изабел подлага на жесток критичен анализ всичко и всички около себе си, осланяйки се на абстрактни понятия и книжни идеали, затова не е никак чудно, че попада в капана на първия срещнат пресметлив хитрец. Но и нещастието като такова не е достатъчно да разтърси нашата героиня, която търпи един отровен брак като съзнателно самонаказание.

„Портрет на една дама“ ме вбеси с главната си героиня, която, въпреки бавното си отърсване от илюзиите, не претвори това отърсване в действие. Може би е нечестно да я откъсвам от контекста в края на 19 век, но литературата познава далеч по-действени героини от този период. Иначе идеите в романа и тяхната трактовка ми допаднаха - за това доколко наистина притежаваме себе си, за силата (или слабостта), която ни предоставят многото пари, за лесните заблуди на интелекта.

Мъжките образи, особено този на братовчеда Ралф, са далеч по-симпатични. У Ралф изкристализира перфектният джентълмен на епохата – ироничен викторианец с много умело прикрито зад цинизъм благородство на характера.

Любопитни са и паралелите между Англия и САЩ от това време – разбиранията за прогрес, за добро прекарване на времето и идеята за добрия гражданин явно са били предмет на горещ дебат и постоянни сравнения от двете страни на океана.

За предпазливите към „тежките класики“ е добре да се уточни, че Хенри Джеймс пише напоително само в един аспект – в описанието на човешките характери. Но това е напълно достатъчно, за да е брилянтен.


„…най-голямата ценност в човека е жизнеността“

„Да помогнеш някому да осъществи добрите си пориви – какво по-благородно от това?“

„Но нима това, че притежаваш големи качества, е било някога гаранция за човешко щастие? Нима историята не бе изпълнена с примери за гибелта на ценни хора? Не беше ли по-вярно, че човек страда повече, ако притежава по-големи духовни ценности?“

The ancient Greek tragedian Euripides popped up in my mind while reading Henry James' (1843-1916) masterpieces Daisy Miller and The Portrait of a Lady. (*) Readers of Euripides’ work have to ask themselves whether Euripides was a misogynist or if he showed true sympathy for the Athenian women who suffered from the rigorous patriarchy in Athenian society. I, on my part, was astonished by Euripides’ portrayal of women and their oppression and I came to the conclusion that Euripides indirectly criticised Athenian male society. Having read the mentioned two works by James, I’ve had the exact same feeling. The way he describes Isabel Archer’s succumbing to moral and social conventions is compelling and leaves the reader with an uneasiness that I have seldom encountered in Victorian Literature. In James’ notebooks from probably late December 1880, early January 1881 he writes:

“The idea of the whole thing is that the poor girl, who has dreamed of freedom and nobleness, who has done, as she believes, a generous, natural, clear-sighted thing, finds herself in reality ground in the very mill of the conventional.”

The Portrait of a Lady is first and foremost a psychological portrayal of an "intelligent but presumptuous girl” (p. 634) of the 19th century whose decisions differ greatly from what the reader (at least the modern reader) would expect from a lady with such characteristics. Even though the romantic settings in Florence and Rome are inspiring and enthralling they are not really important to the story and the plot itself is far from being spell binding. James notes in his preface to the New York Edition of 1908: "The result is that I’m often accused of not having a “story” enough. I seem to myself to have as much as I need – to show my people, to exhibit their relations with each other; for that is all my measure.”

Having said that, it requires the mastery of one Henry James to make his readers stick to the more than 600 pages without hesitation. The omniscient narrator carefully describes Isabel’s marriage without being melodramatic and its presentation is therefore much more realistic and modern than in other Victorian novels, such as those by Charles Dickens for example. I was deeply touched by James’ awareness of women’s struggle in those days. When I mention ‘women’s struggle’ I have to point out, however, that Henry James’ portrays exclusively women of his social class (at least in the two books I read) and I can imagine why: One cannot describe a social and cultural milieu with such perfection without observing meticulously the immediate environment one lives in. In my opinion he knew exactly what he was writing about (James apparently took his inspiration for Isabel’s character from his cousin Milly Temple) and he showed immense respect and sensibility towards his literary characters, not only towards Isabel, but also towards minor characters who are all portrayed with care.

This work goes straightforward to my ‘favourites shelf’ and deserves my highest rating. It is an outstanding masterpiece by an outstanding author and I am eager to read more by him.

(*) I choose the Penguin Classics Edition for my reading of The Portrait of a Lady edited and with an Introduction and Notes by Philip Horne. The text reprinted in this edition is the book edition of 1882 and not that of the revised 1908 New York edition.

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ایزابل دختری کاملا و مستقل که بسیار مورد ستایش دیگران است. کتاب از ورود شخصیت ایزابل آغاز شده و تا ازدواج او و اتفاقات بعد از ازدواج او پیش می‌رود. مسئله مهمی که اینجا پیش آمده انتخاب درست یا غلط ایزابل، با توجه به شرایط حاکم در آن زمان و با توجه به دامنه‌ی روابط اوست. دختری که به قول پسرخاله‌اش، رالف، اگر مورد بی‌مهری قرار گرفته است، مورد مهر هم بوده. از این کتاب به عنوان یک رمان قوی یاد شده که خود هنری جیمز وصفی از این کتاب دارد که: «تصویر بانوی جوانی که تقدیر خود را خوار می‌کند.»
در این کتاب در گیر و دار دنیای آدم‌ها قبل و بعد از ازدواجشان، افکارشان و عقایدشان و نگرشی که به زندگی دارند؛ هستیم. مفهوم عشق و زندگی برای هریک متفاوت‌تر و پیچیده‌تر از دیگری‌ست.
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Well, cripes. My second time through. Review tk.

This book disappointed me sadly. I was expecting it to be a classic of realist tradition a la carte War and Peace or Middlemarch. I was expecting to learn a lot as a writer developing my craft as well. James' notes on structure development are examples of some of the best literary criticism you can find. So, I was a little surprised to see it not so as effectively rendered in his work. Certainly, his beginnings are captivating, and well-thought out, but James has a propensity for extremely long sentences. He divides the purposes of his paragraphs well, setting the scene when he needs to, or introducing a telling detail of a character when it suits, but it almost feels schematic. Well-organised, but almost too much so.

The dialogue was built for another generation, and I realise that, but there were plenty of times I circled things, not even understanding what it was meant to say. A lot of the chapters end on paragraphs that don't create a denouement or tension; they just simply seem done, and that was that. A lot of the writing is spent in exposition, and even a lot of the ways characters are described feel generic.

I'm a little surprised that this book has lasted as long as it has, and I think a lot of it has to do with Isabel Archer, who is fairly well drawn. While I don't think she is a very realistic or well thought-out female character, I do like what James was trying to explore; that sort of reckless and self-propelling independence, and the consequences of it. The ending is also quite good, in that is well-paced, clear, and yet somehow still mysterious.

I think it's a novel worth returning to, and a novel to still possibly learn from, but yes, I'm more perplexed by its reputation than I am enthralled by it.

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.