“Her old habit had been to live by enthusiasm, to fall in love with suddenly-perceived possibilities, with the idea of a new attempt.”

Henry James, I do love you! I thought I did, but it had been such a long time, so many books and so many classic authors ago that I read you, I wasn’t sure. This was your test, and you aced it.

The Portrait of a Lady is a very special novel for a number of reasons, foremost for the writing. There are some places you just like to be, and I like to be surrounded by Henry James’ words. His prose is like a big fluffy cloud I just love to float around in. The best specific I can give about his style is this. I read this book over a three month period, stopping for lots of other books in between, sometimes for weeks at a time. Every single time I went back to Portrait, the characters were still fresh in my mind. I knew exactly who they were. James paints them with such care. Yes, he spends a little time at it, but when he’s done, we have, well, a portrait if you will; a picture of a character that does not slip easily from our minds.

And what characters James creates! Isabel is a complex heroine. She is unique; we don’t quite understand her. She has ideas about ideas--particularly the morality of them. She wants very much to make her own decisions, and even more to live by her convictions. She wants this very particular type of independence.

We’re given the intricacies of Isabel’s character in combination and contrast with the other complex characters and these beautifully-drawn settings, and it’s like seeing a picture in many different lights. The result is she feels like a real person that, even though I’ve finished reading, I could continue to get to know better over time.

In contrast to this deep and subtle character analysis, the plot is relatively simple, but very engaging. A woman has opportunities, makes choices, and in the process, steps into something quite dark. She learns, and carries on.

“Instead of leading to the high places of happiness, from which the world would seem to lie below one, so that one could look down with a sense of exaltation and advantage, and judge and choose and pity, it led rather downward and earthward, into realms of restriction and depression, where the sound of other lives, easier and freer, was heard as from above, and served to deepen the feeling of failure.”

One of the most interesting themes explored is the idea of freedom. Isabel craves a specific kind of freedom, and she is surrounded by people who demonstrate freedom in different ways. Her cousin Ralph has the money to do what he wants, and is free to adore her with no expectations, because he is a cousin, but also because he is ill and won’t live long. Her Aunt, Mrs. Touchett, is a model of self-centered freedom: traveling when and where she pleases, unveiling her plans to her husband and son only through cryptic telegrams. Her friend Henrietta is a brash reporter who uses her freedom to always speak her mind, whether her thoughts are welcome or not. These characters show us a largely benevolent freedom, but there are others who give us the dark, malevolent side: freedom deprived, freedom distorted, freedom withheld.

It is in times of difficulty, so it seems, that we learn how strong our convictions are.

I love Isabel, for the ideas that drive her and for her uniqueness. As she goes on living as that almost-real person in my mind, I find myself wishing her well.

“But it seemed to her that she had done something; she had done what she preferred.”

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.

Un'americana in Europa
Isabel, "inquadrata nella cornice (...) della porta, colpì il giovane come un bel ritratto di signora".

Romanzo ambientato negli anni '70 dell'Ottocento fra Inghilterra e Italia, si presenta bellissimo per stile, struttura narrativa e approfondimento psicologico, tutto pervaso da quel sottile senso dell'umorismo, tanto diffuso nella letteratura inglese, ritmato sull'arte della conversazione che spesso caratterizza il romanzo britannico. Un testo per chi ama il piacere della lettura di alta qualità.
Comprendiamo come l'americano H. James apprezzasse talmente la cultura inglese da trasferirsi in Inghilterra e assumerne la nazionalità.

Chi ha letto lo splendido "The Master" di Toibin, documentato romanzo biografico dedicato a Henry James, sa come la figura della protagonista di "Ritratto di signora" sia stata ispirata dalla figura dell'amata cugina dell'autore, tanto desiderosa di viaggiare per l'Europa, sogno irrealizzato per la prematura morte in giovane età.
Lo scrittore pare abbia voluto 'risarcirla' dandole le parvenze del personaggio di Isabel, una ragazza americana che invece in Europa giunge e dove si dispiega interamente il suo futuro.

Isabel, dunque, arriva in Inghilterra accolta dalla facoltosa zia in una magnifica dimora con esteso parco.
La giovane era sempre stata considerata "l'intelletto", ma anche una persona (troppo) originale.
"Ella aveva un desiderio insaziabile di pensare bene di sé", riteneva che "fosse necessario essere fra i migliori" , "aveva una speranza infinita di non dover fare mai nulla di male" e amava molto la propria indipendenza.
Con queste premesse, non c'è da stupirsi che tutti si chiedano che cosa farà della sua vita e a quali vertici sarà capace di giungere, tanto più che H. James la rende pure ricchissima.

La vicenda si sposta poi a Firenze e a Roma, dove Isabel verrà a contatto con l'alta società degli stranieri, fra gran dame e uomini raffinati.
Il paesaggio italiano è descritto meravigliosamente, con pennellate di generosa fascinazione. Non manca però qualche stoccata : un colto straniero, imbevuto di estetismo, sostiene che "l'Italia, comunque, aveva guastato molta gente; lui stesso (...) riteneva che sarebbe stato un uomo migliore se non avesse trascorso lì tanta parte della sua vita. Faceva diventare pigri e dilettanti e mediocri; non offriva nessuna disciplina per il carattere".

L'ultima parte del libro, in particolare, presenta sviluppi di altissima abilità letteraria. 'Tutti i nodi vengono al pettine' in modo , nel contempo, inaspettato eppur convincente : ciò che solamente un grande scrittore riesce a realizzare.

When I finished this book, I threw it down on the table in anger and walked away muttering. I guess we all want books to end like.. well, books! Not like real life. We have enough real life around us. Aren't books for escaping all that?

Maybe. This book is probably a classic because it is complex enough to actually resemble the real world. People make mistakes. Small mistakes. Big mistakes. Life-changing mistakes. They also show a lot of spirit and charisma, which is also real. None of the characters are simplified into "good" or "evil" exactly. They're ... REAL. They have good points. They have bad points. They make you angry while you're reading so you want to slap them and tell them to "cut it out!!" But then you learn for them to find love and fulfillment and happiness. That's real life. It's not simple and easy to read like most books, with a happy or predictable ending. I HATED the ending because it left so many things unresolved.

But, despite all that... I have to admit it was an amazing read.

Le "Portrait de femme" est le chef-d'oeuvre d'Henry James, le plus important romancier américain pour la periode entre la fin de la Guerre de secession (1861-1865) et la première grande guerre. Ce roman raconte l' histoire d'une jeune héritière qui se fait prendre par un chasseur de fortune. L'idée est très simple voire banale. Le brio est dans les détails.
L'héroine Isabel Archer est aimée de quatres hommes. D'abord il y a Gilbert Osmond un être tout à fait abject qui l'épouse pour son argent. Il y a Ralph Touchett, l'alter ego d'Henry James, qui a les sentiments les plus délicats et les plus purs envers Isabel mais qui est trop bon pour ce monde et meurt à la fin du roman. Viens ensuite, Lord Warburton qui a des intentions honorables britanniques envers elle et Caspar Goodman qui a des intentions honorables américaines. Lord Warburton a le bonheur de finallement jeter l'éponge. Le pauvre Goodman persiste et est train de souffrir au dernier paragraphe du roman parce qu'Isabel l'a encore une fois fuit.
Henry James est la voix d'une époque révolué où les États-Unis etaient à 100 pourcent anglo-protestants et que les seules personnes de couleur vivaient au sud da la ligne Mason-Dixon. Ligne (39°43′15″ N). Il a fait partie d'une genération des Nouvelle-Anglais qui sont allés en Europe afin de devenir artistes. (On pense notamment aux peintres Mary Cassatt et Henry Whistler; aux architectets Louis Sullivan et William Jenney; et aux écrivains Edith Wharton et à la limite T.S. Eliot)
Les rapport sociaux entre les membres de la noblesse anglaise et les patriciens de la Nouvelle-Angleterre constitituent un des thèmes dominants de l'oeuvre d'Henry James. Personnellement je m'en sacre royallement et c'est pourquoi je ne lis jamais plus qu'un roman d'Henry James sur dix ans. Pourtant, il faut reconnaitre que dans le "Portrait de femme" Henry James se sert brillament de ce thème qui normallement m'agace profondement. C'est l'obsession avec la mode de vie de la noblesse anglaise qui pousse le vilain du roman à tous ses actes déloyalles.
Le "Portrait de femme"livre incontournable pour tous ceux qui veulent connaître l'histoire de la littérature américaine.

اواسط کتاب فکر میکردم خوب میشه اگه همینجا ادامه ندم چه دلیلی داره این همه طولانی شدن
و چقدر خوب که به این احساس غلبه کردم تازه بعد از تموم شدن این حس میاد سراغ ادم که زیادم طولانی نشده و انچه که باید بود.

سفر با ایزابل ،زنی که بیشتر از اینکه باهوش و زیبا باشه بقیه بهش اینو القا کردن پراز تجربه برای آموختن بود.

کاش در طول داستان در کنار بررسی بعد احساسی و ازدواج ایزابل به سفرهاش و مدیریت پول باد اورده اشاره میشد.

——دربسیاری مواقع در زندگی ما باید حاضر باشیم که هیچ کس را خشنود نکنیم، حتی خودمان را——

"Portrait of a Lady" has been gathering dust on one of my tbr shelves for years because I stupidly thought it would be a chore to read. I was so wrong! I loved it! A profound novel that is riveting and brilliant with an ending that has left my head spinning.

Thoughts soon.

Ma quel che più lo offendeva, ella non tardò a percepirlo, era ch'ella avesse un suo modo di pensare e un cervello tutto suo. Ella avrebbe dovuto avere una mente asservita lui, attaccata alla sua come un piccolo stralcio di giardino a un gran parco di daini. Egli avrebbe rastrellato gentilmente il suolo e annaffiati i fiori, avrebbe sarchiato le aiuole e raccolto occasionalmente qualche mazzetto. Sarebbe stata una graziosa aggiunta di proprietà per un proprietario già ricco. Egli non desiderava ch'ella fosse stupida, al contrario: proprio perché era intelligente gli era piaciuta; ma si aspettava che la sua intelligenza operasse interamente a favore di lui, e ben lungi dal desiderare che la sua mente fosse vuota, si era lusingato che potesse ricevere un'impronta dalla sua.

Non potevo iniziare questa recensione se non citando uno dei passi del romanzo che mi ha colpito di più, e mi sono dovuta trattenere, perché Henry James sarebbe da citare tutto.
L'ho fatto di nuovo, ho fatto passare secoli per una recensione e continuerò a farlo, perché non ho tempo e da un po' nemmeno un computer, ma questo romanzo stava lì, in attesa che scrivessi qualcosa e ho dovuto per forza ritagliarmi uno spazietto.
"Paesaggio d'anime, tratteggiato da un maestro del realismo psicologico." È così che nel retro copertina viene descritto James, e io non potrei essere più d'accordo, perché dire che i suoi personaggi sono semplicemente ben caratterizzati sarebbe troppo poco. L'eroina del romanzo è Isabel Archer, giovane americana orfana di padre e di madre, che entra a far parte della famiglia inglese della zia, sorella della madre, che decide di occuparsi di lei. Isabel dimostra di essere una ragazza aperta al cambiamento, ben disposta ad imparare e a seguire i consigli della zia, ma ciò non toglie che sia dotata di una coscienza propria e che sogni l'indipendenza. Indipendenza che verrà grazie al cugino Ralph, che la renderà padrona di un'eredità importante.
Isabel Archer è una sorta di eroina anti-eroina, dotata dei soliti bei sentimenti che si trovano nelle eroine classiche ma anche con qualcosa in più. È palese la sua voglia di fare da sé, di viaggiare e scoprire il mondo, ma proprio la sua indipendenza la porterà vicino alla rovina. Sono tanti i personaggi che entrano in contatto con lei e ciascuno di loro cerca di indicarle la strada, sempre sottoforma di un buon matrimonio. Ma lei va per la sua strada e quando questa si rivela essere piena di infelicità e delusioni, non cerca aiuto ma prova a nascondere la sua palese infelicità agli amici di un tempo, senza rinnegare nulla e accettando i propri errori.
L'accostamento con Emma Bovary non mi aveva fatto ben sperare ma una scintilla di speranza nel suo futuro si intravede ancora.
Henry James accosta la vita di Isabel a quella di due antagonisti, se così si possono chiamare, che non vengono presentati come tali al lettore, o meglio il lettore capisce che c'è qualcosa sotto e ha libera interpretazione dei fatti e dei caratteri, capendo così le influenze che possono portare a personalità più deboli, come la piccola Pansy, punto in cui Henry James non lascia un briciolo di speranza.
Curioso poi, che proprio Isabel, che tanto sognava l'indipendenza, si ritrovi poi non padrona della sua vita. Ma se l'ambiguità di quei due personaggi era chiara al lettore, non era ancora chiara ad Isabel, ingannata senza pietà.
A fare da sfondo alle vicende non solo il paesaggio inglese ma anche l'Italia, con Roma e Firenze che rendono questo quadro ancora più bello.
Del suo romanzo Henry James dice:

La prima critica ovviamente sarà che non è compiuto - che non ho accompagnato la protagonista fino alla conclusione della vicenda, che l'ho lasciata en l'air -. Ciò è vero e falso al tempo stesso. Non si dice mai tutto di una cosa: si finisce per scegliere soltanto ciò che sta bene assieme, ciò che ho fatto ha questa compatezza: sta bene assieme. In sé è compiuto: quanto al resto, ci si potrà sempre tornare sopra, in un secondo tempo.

Henry James lascia perciò un finale aperto alla sua protagonista, un ritratto imperfetto e un futuro incerto, a differenza di tutti gli altri personaggi, ma che proprio nelle ultime azioni di Isabel mi ha fatto ben sperare, ritrovando in lei quell'indipendenza che le era stata strappata.

An Independent Woman
24 October 2015

tWell, I have to say that I finished this book the day after Back to the Future Day (which is probably not the best way to have celebrated that day, though it was quite interesting to note that my Facebook feed was flooded with news stories of how Marty McFly was arrested in multiple locations). In fact I probably wasted that day because I ended up going to work, and when I got home I didn't watch the Back to the Future Trilogy (though I suspect it would have been impossible to get at any of the video stores that still happen to exist – I don't have Netflix) but rather spent my time writing blog posts. Anyway, we are going to be talking about this book at bookclub on Sunday, and I had left it a little too late to read anything else.

tAnyway, here is a portrait of a lady:



tand another one:



t(I hope posting a picture on Goodreads isn't considered a commercial use, but then again I'm not making any money off of this post, though Amazon probably is), and another one:



tActually, I could probably go on ad-infinitum (and that is with pictures that don't show certain bodyparts) though I'm sure after three people are probably going to start to get a bit sick of this. While I could say a few things about portraits (and how I tend to find them pretty boring) I will refer you to my travel blog (as opposed to my philosophy blog, though I can't help but write such things in my travel blog as well) where I write about my experience at the Art Gallery of New South Wales. Instead I will write a few things about this particular novel.

tAnyway, I have to say that I am not a huge fan of 19th Century Romanticism namely because the novels tend to be long, boring, mainly about women who spend the entire time crying 'oh woah is me, I can't find myself a husband so I will marry this absolute creep', and then come to an end. Oh, they are also incredibly verbose in that almost every detail about the scene is intricately described. So, when my Mum handed this book to me saying 'you should read this, every detail about the scenes are intricately described' I politely smiled, and proceeded to put it on my 'may get to one day in the future' bookshelf and promptly forgot about it until my bookclub decided to make it the October read.

tSo, the question is, have you ever met one of those really amazing women that seem to be really intelligent, and incredibly capable, and is simply not interested in you (I'm sure there is a male version, but since I'm a heterosexual male I'll won't try to speculate on what I simply can never know)? Well, this book is about one of those women. Mind you, in my time wandering around this Earth I have quickly come to discover that those type of women tend not to be worth it, though it is clear that poor Goodwood doesn't actually wake up to this fact because even though Isabel always rebuffs him, he just doesn't seem to get the picture.

tI think I have jumped a bit ahead of myself though. Portrait of a Lady is basically what the title of the book says it is about – it is the story of a lady named Isabel, and the portrait aspect comes out because James goes to great length to give her as deep and complex a character as possible. Basically she comes to England from America, meets a couple of people, but isn't interested in settling down just yet because she 'wants to see Europe' (I'm sure many of us hopeless romantics have recieved similar excuses, though funnily enough I'm now the one spurting out such rubbish). Anyway, she gets to see Europe, meets another man, marries him, and discovers that he is an absolute prick. However when she returns to England (without him knowing) she discovers that Goodwood is still in love with her, and wants her to divorce this cretin. She doesn't, and then the book ends. So much for a happy ending (but then again 19th Century Romanticism, especially in the vein of Flaubert, as this book is written, generally don't have happy endings).

tI guess it once again raises the question as to why women like Isabel always seem to end up with the creeps, and also why they continue to stick with the creeps. I suspect because of her character. We are made aware that she has this strong independent streak, and to be honest with you such a person is simply not going to be interested in a hopeless romantic. Sure they may be really nice people, but the thing is that Isabel isn't interested in a nice person – they're boring. She is interested in, well, an interesting person – it's just a shame that this really interesting person is a real jerk. However, as one friend pointed out to me once, the fact that she won't leave him has little to do with a sense of loyalty, or even with the fear of being alone, but more to do with the bond that she has formed with him. He suggested that this bond is actually a really strong bond, one doesn't necessarily equate to loyalty, or a fear of being alone, but rather a spiritual bond that ties people to others (though I won't necessarily say together because this bond does have a nasty habit of working only one way).

tAnyway, I'll finish off here and simply say that as I suspected, this wasn't really one of those books that interested me all that much, though I have discovered that they are actually really easy to speed read, namely because they happen to be incredibly verbose, and go into details that we really don't need.

The Portrait of a Lady has to be my favourite of the fifteen or so Henry James books I've read. The crowning achievement of James' middle period, when he had honed his powers of observation to perfection but had not yet slipped into the long-winded obscurity that makes his later novels so hard to read, it is in my opinion one of the most perfect novels of the nineteenth century. Very little actually happens in it, but what little does happen is described so exquisitely that you hardly notice it's a whole lot of nothing spread out over 600+ pages. That's masterful story-telling for you.

The Portrait of a Lady centres on Isabel Archer, a young, lively and intelligent American who is taken to Europe by her eccentric expatriate aunt. In Europe, she is courted by eligible bachelors who appreciate her independent-mindedness and wish to see where it will lead her, but for all their attentions, she ends up marrying a cold-hearted bastard who treats her like an ornament and all but breaks her spirit. The rest of the book revolves around the question whether Isabel will stay with her husband out of a sense of duty or live up to her old ideals of independence.

As I said, there's not an awful lot of story here (the above paragraph is a near-complete summary of the plot), but James makes the most of it. With his powerful observations and descriptions and superb characterisation, he paints a vivid portrait of nineteenth-century womanhood and the institution of marriage, of love, loyalty and longing, of purity versus artificiality, of betrayal, of the differences between Americans and Europeans (a recurring theme in his oeuvre) and of major themes in life: duty, honour, commitment, freedom. Isabel Archer is a likeable heroine whose dreams are quite recognisable to the modern reader, so while James keeps his distance from her, analysing her as a case study rather than as a flesh-and-blood human being, the reader feels for her; it's quite torturous watching her go and make the mistakes which will ruin her life. Both Isabel's struggles and the other characters' are described in elegant but sharp and incisive prose. The result is a big book that is subtle yet dramatic, understated yet powerful, and that ranks among the best things James ever wrote.

*SPOILER ALERT* (Read at your own risk)

My first time to read a book by Henry James.

Reading The Portrait of a Lady, said to be his finest novel, is like getting your workout at a gym.

After a day’s work you are tired. You are already zapped of energy. You feel like going to a bar and have a couple of beer listening to a funky live band or the crooning of a lovely young lady. Or you want to go to a nearby mall and sit in the comfort of a dark movie house. Probably sleep to rest for a couple of hours if the movie turns out to be boring.

But you decide to go as you planned at the start of the day. Your gym bag is in your car. You drag your heavy feet to the parking lot. To the gym. You know you have to do it your friend has been telling you that Henry James is good but you imagine the taste of cold beer quenching your thirst or the soft seat inside the theater or the pretty songbird wearing a plunging neckline or showing her slim smooth legs there are quick reads waiting for you like Ray Bradbury’s Farenheit 451 or that Flowers for Argenon by Daniel Keyes. But you know your body needs exercise. You are becoming fatter, heavier and your waistline is expanding. You resisted the quick but empty lure of beer or sleep at the movie house. Your heart is telling you that Henry James is an author to read. Like a zombie, you continued sleepwalking to the gym.

After changing to your gym attire. You step on the treadmill. The solitude of working out. In the gym, you rarely talk to anyone. Henry James used a style that was distinctively his: wordy yet illuminating You are by yourself. Most of your friends don’t care about Henry James. You begin to walk. Warm up. After a couple of minutes, you increase the speed. Chug. Chug. Chug. It goes on and on. His storytelling went on and on. His characters came from New York, to England, went to Paris, then to Rome and then went back to England and finally went back to Rome. After the treadmill, you lift some weights as you also need to tone some muscles. His characters were varied. There was Isabel Archer fighting for her independence by refusing marriage proposals like there was not tomorrow but in the end she found with the wrong man: conceited, two-timer, treacherous and condescending. Some muscles are not supposed to be exercised right after a neighboring one. They could be contradicting each other and not only you will not get the maximum benefit from your workout but you are in the danger of having an injury like some pulled muscles. Isabel’s cousin Ralph Touchett is the “conscience” of the novel, telling by instinct whether the person-character is good or bad. He is sick but he is the only character that has the purest heart.

You came to the gym gloomy and dragged your feet as you did not have the energy even to go up a couple of stairs. Some people agonize reading this kind of 19th century Victorian English But when you came out to go back to your car, you felt energized and refreshed. You felt triumphant that Isabel Archer was going back to Rome for Pansy not necessarily for Oswald. But she decided whatever her heart was telling her. In the end, it was all that mattered: independence. She followed her heart: a personal triumph.

In the end, you did not regret going to the gym. In the end, I am happy I read a Henry James.