I've been reading a lot of Anthony Trollope's books recently and the stories, characters and writing is so much superior to this that I just can't get into it. "Frothy" is a word that comes to mind, also "was he paid by the word?" like Dickens.

I finished the book, finally. It was a chore. I did not find James' portrayal of a woman's personality convincing. That even though she had the financial power which was the reason why her husband had married her, she would still allow herself to be physically and emotionally abused and humiliated. It seemed to be a very conventional view of a woman, that eventually she would give in to her Lord and Master. A woman with an ounce of independence (she did have an ounce, maybe even two) at the beginning would not be the sad creature she was at the end. Marriages were made in light of money and status in those times, in this book, she had both, he had neither, there had to be some sort of mental shift that that would allow her to pretend that these were her husband's and she was in the lower and grateful position. But James didn't write it, so 'Portrait' really didn't make sense.

None of the characters, evil, good or milk-water gained my sympathy. Pansy, the daughter, nearly did, but I wanted to shake her and say 'how could you have lived all these years and not suspected who your mother is? Your father has palmed you off on the nuns all these years, what's with this unquestioning obedience? Its your step-mother has the money, not him, she's the one who can help you, would help you,not your daddy who just wants you to achieve his own social-climbing ambitions'.

I just don't see James as a man who understood women enough to write about them from any but a man's perspective.

I watched the Nichole Kidman film of the book and although Kidman did her best to flesh out the character she was no more rounded than in the book. And Poppy's submissiveness and ignorance were even more unbelievable. Obviously, to James, the main characteristic he associated with women and interpreted thusly by the director, was submissiveness.

Henry James may have deserved his reputation as a Grand Old Man of (American) letters, but not through this book, it just didn't do it for me.

RTC

The Portrait of a Lady, Henry James

The Portrait of a Lady is a novel by Henry James, first published as a serial in The Atlantic Monthly and Macmillan's Magazine in 1880–81 and then as a book in 1881.

It is one of Henry James's most popular long novels and is regarded by critics as one of his finest.

The Portrait of a Lady is the story of a spirited young American woman Isabel Archer, who, in "confronting her destiny", finds it overwhelming.

She inherits a large amount of money and subsequently becomes the victim of Machiavellian scheming by two American expatriates.

Like many of James's novels, it is set in Europe, mostly England and Italy.

Generally regarded as the masterpiece of James's early period, this novel reflects James's continuing interest in the differences between the New World and the Old, often to the detriment of the former.

It also treats in a profound way the themes of personal freedom, responsibility, and betrayal.

تاریخ نخستین خوانش: روز نوزدهم ماه نوامبر سال1976میلادی

عنوان: تصویر یک زن؛ اثر: هنری جیمز؛ مترجم: مجید مسعودی؛ نشر: تهران، در دو جلد، سال1348، در866ص، جلد دوم در31ص و433ص؛ موضوع: داستانهای نویسندگان ایالات متحده آمریکا - سده19م

عنوان: تصویر یک زن؛ اثر: هنری جیمز؛ مترجم: مجید مسعودی؛ ویراستار: عنایت سمیعی؛ نشر: تهران، نیلوفر: شرکت انتشارات علمی فرهنگی، چاپ دوم از ویراست دوم سال1390، در798ص، شابک9789644484964؛

شخصیت اصلی داستان، چنانکه ‌از عنوان کتاب برمی‌آید، یک زن جوان به ‌نام: «ایزابل آرچر» است؛ «ایزابل» دختری «آمریکایی» و معصوم و جذابی‌ است، که ‌بنا به ‌پیشنهاد خاله‌ ی خویش خانم «تاچت»، و زیر پشتیبانی او، از «آمریکا» به ‌«انگلستان» می‌آید؛ «هنری جیمز» داستان را که پنجاه و چهار فصل دارد، و ترجمه ‌ی فارسی آن در866صفحه ‌است؛ در «انگلستان» و در محوطه‌ ی چمن وسیع خانه‌ ی خاله‌ ی «ایزابل» آغاز می‌کنند؛ حاضرین در صحنه، ‌سه ‌نفر هستند، که ‌هر سه ‌نقشی تعیین کننده، ‌در زندگی «ایزابل»، ایفا خواهند کرد؛ این سه تن «شوهر خاله‌ ی ایزابل آقای تاچت»، «پسر خاله ی ‌بیمار و دوست داشتنی او رالف»، و «دوست خانوادگی تاچت‌ ها لرد واربرتنِ سی و پنج ساله‌ ی جذاب، مجرد و بسیار ثروتمند»، هستند

تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 15/10/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 04/09/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی

„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?“

Por mais encantadora que ele a achasse, a rapariga impressionava-o mais pelo seu ar de desafio, que constituía, na realidade, um dos seus atractivos. (...)
- Não tenho medo, bem sabe – declarou então Isabel, de uma forma, na verdade, um tanto impertinente.
- Não receia o sofrimento?
- Sim, do sofrimento tenho medo, mas não dos fantasmas. Acho que nos deixamos invadir facilmente pela dor. (...) Não é necessário sofrer; não somos feitos para tal. (...) O pior é que, se não sofremos passamos por insensíveis.

Nem se fosse mulher Henry James conseguiria criar heroínas com mais personalidade, e é esse o maior elogio que hoje posso fazer-lhe. Quer seja pespeneta como Daisy, serena como Catherine, decidida como Gertrude, esplêndida como Isabel, o que sinto sempre com cada protagonista deste autor é que, se ela fosse de carne e osso e eu pudesse recuar até ao século XIX, gostaria de ser amiga dela. Foi por me ter afeiçoado tanto a Isabel Archer que, a determinada altura, fechei o livro zangada com HJ e o pus de lado durante uns tempos. Poderia culpar os quase dois quilos de páginas ou as 26 horas de audiobook para explicar os sete meses que levei a ler esta obra-prima, mas foi só a pura indignação que tive de deixar dissipar que me impediu de avançar a bom ritmo num livro que até aí fluía com diálogos espirituosos e personagens fascinantes.

Disse a Sra. Touchett: - Eu, por exemplo, gosto de ser tratada de uma forma pessoal. Miss Stackpole prefere que a considerem membro de um grupo.
- Não compreendo o que quer dizer – ripostou esta - O que prefiro é ser tratada como senhora... e senhora americana!
- Pobres senhoras americanas! – exclamou a dona da casa. – São escravas de escravos.
- Companheiras de homens livres – emendou a jornalista.
- Companheiras dos seus servidores: da criada irlandesa, do criado negro. Ajudam-nos ao trabalho.
(...)
- Companheiras de homens livres... Apreciei a sua frase, Miss Stackpole – interveio Ralph - É uma definição admirável.
- Quando falo de homens livres não me refiro a si, Sr. Touchett.

Os escritores banais criam triângulos amorosos. Os mestres criam pentágonos, e não deixam nenhuma das arestas mais fraca que as outras. Isabel Archer, não sendo particularmente bonita, tem quatro pretendentes e o mais espantoso é que eles estão sempre a entrar e a sair de cena ao longo de toda a obra. Temos Caspar Goodwood, que veio dos Estados Unidos atrás de Isabel, Lord Warburton que se apaixona por ela logo no início da sua estadia em Inglaterra, Ralph Touchett, o primo inteligente e generoso, e um quarto homem odioso que não será aqui nomeado. O casamento, porém, não está nos seus planos imediatos.

- Se casasse consigo, fugiria à minha sorte.
- Não entendo. Por que razão o seu destino se deve desenrolar longe do meu?
- Porque é assim – respondeu ela, como só as mulheres respondem – Sei que é assim. Está escrito que não deve renunciar a ele. Sinto que não posso.
O infeliz Lord Warburton ficou perplexo, com uma expressão de dúvida.- Então casando comigo, renunciaria...?
- Não no sentido usual da frase. Ganhava até... ganhava muito. Mas desistia de outras possibilidades. (...) É-me impossível impedir a infelicidade. Casando consigo, tentaria fugir a ela...

Vi o filme homónimo de Jane Campion quando estreou nos cinemas, mas não me lembro rigorosamente de nada a não ser do grande erro de casting que foi no geral. Nicole Kidman, com a sua eterna cara nº 17 na alegria e na tristeza, na saúde e na doença, não faz justiça a Isabel Archer, e John Malkovich, para mim, há-de ser sempre Valmont das “Relações Perigosas”, e no fundo é esse papel maquiavélico que lhe coube aqui, com direito até a uma espécie de Madame de Meurteill, com quem conspira contra Isabel.
Se de boas intenções está o inferno cheio, “Retrato de uma Senhora” é um exemplo disso. Trazida dos Estados Unidos para a Europa pela tia, depois de ter ficado órfã, Isabel a todos encanta, mas é o seu primo Ralph Touchett, a minha personagem masculina preferida, que mais se deslumbra com o seu carácter, com a sua curiosidade em relação ao mundo e com a resposta sempre na ponta da língua. Num gesto altruísta, para lhe proporcionar a total independência e a possibilidade de realizar os seus sonhos, Ralph consegue que a prima receba uma avultada herança.

- Absorvi-me demasiado em mim mesma; encaro a vida como se ela fosse uma receita médica. Porque havemos de estar sempre a magicar se as coisas são boas para nós, tal se fôssemos doentes deitados numa enfermaria? (...) É porque tenho medo. – deteve-se. A voz tremia-lhe um pouco. – Sim, tenho medo. Não lhe sei explicar. A riqueza implica liberdade, e a liberdade assusta-me. É uma coisa admirável! Deve-se saber empregá-la senão, cobrimo-nos de vergonha. Além disso, é preciso que nunca deixemos de pensar. Obriga a um esforço contínuo. Quem sabe se ser-se pobre não será maior felicidade?

É esta tentativa de brincar aos deuses que acciona toda a trama e empurra Isabel para situações fora do seu controlo, levando-a numa viagem puramente emocional.

Sim, ele quisera dizer isso: gostaria que a mulher não possuísse nada no cérebro e se limitasse à sua bela aparência exterior. Ela própria sabia que possuía excesso de ideias – e até talvez tivesse mais do que ele supunha, muitas mais do que exprimira quando fora pedida em casamento. De facto, mostrara-se hipócrita, mas só porque o amava tanto, tanto! Tinha muitas ideia para si somente: todavia se casasse, poderia partilhá-la com mais alguém. Não era fácil arrancá-las pela raiz, embora, com certeza, fosse possível reprimi-las, tendo o cuidado de nunca as manifestar.

Thoughts soon.

It certainly is a classic of its time, and also a 5 star masterpiece for James. Probably his best. Every parcel and mind minutia of thought philosophy or self-identity seems captured here for Isabel.

And yet for me this read? Hard, far more than just difficult- it's similar to clicking 100 or 200 lens poses while surrounding an optic capture venture. Doing a 360 degree circle procedure project for the ultimate surround photo. And then after that process- translating all abstracts and reality of that view's pieces into impressionistic art fragments and putting them into double paragraph length sentences pasted and arranged.

None of these people talk or construct English as any person I've heard in this century or the last one either. So there you go- have at it. It's slow nuance too parred down to near still life in spots.

Once at the beginning of Chapter 24 I reread a sentence at least 5 times. It had so many sub-phrasings and adjuncts that I still have no idea what it was about. That's why it is a 4 star for me.

These people had way, way, way too much time to think. It's a class and period and bottom line onus for which I can't connect that well to/for/with from the get-go. But saying that it is, the depth was remarkable.

Plotting and ending- I will say nothing. The story is the Isabel "growth" or self-determination ability factors? In marriage choice is just part of that function. Also for men of the period. But more specifically for the most "lucky" female individual? You decide.

It's the top peak of elitism and also a compare /contrast for functions within the international brands of snobbery / social hierarchy as well. Absolutely would not be for every reader- this book. Not this period or these people either could begin to be their "cup of tea" within this parsing of an English structure that makes Faulkner a runner up for "sentences that would be impossible to diagram". Others have reviewed this better upon the cultural/societal aspects.

آیا درمقابل بخت بیدادگر و تنهایی بی‌سلاحیم؟ آرزو بر جوانان عیب نیست ولی چه تضمینی برای تحقق توقعات یک دختر جسور و باهوش آمریکایی برای پیداکردن خوشبختی و دلخوشی پس از انتخاب شریک زندگی‌اش وجود داره؟ اصلا رومی رو انتخاب کنه یا زنگی؟ انتخابش درسته یا غلط؟ همونطور که کتاب این سوال رو خصوصا مطرح می‌کنه، مسئله رو هم در ذهن مخاطب به صورت عمومی اشاعه می‌ده.

تصویر یک زن در واقع داستان "ایزابل آرچر"ه که از آمریکا به انگلستان سفر می‌کنه و در خانه‌ی خاله‌ی پیر خودش سکنا پیدا می‌کنه. در اونجا یک مثلث رقابتی‌ بین پسر‌خاله‌ی او، یک لرد انگلیسی و یک جوان آمریکایی پُر شر و شور برای به‌دست آوردنش در‌می‌گیره ولی "تقدیر" مار‌های دیگه‌ای تو آستینش داره.
اول از همه جیمز در مقدمه‌ی داستان به این امر اذعان می‌کنه که "داستان تصویر یک زن، داستان بانوی جوانی‌ست که تقدیر خود را خوار می‌کند." و این نتیجه‌ایه که از پرداخت این "بنای معماری"‌ یعنی پلات داستان می‌گیره. بنای عظیمی که در موخره کتاب "گراهام گرین" اون رو به کلیسای جامعی با شبستان‌ها و دخمه‌های تاریکی تشبیه می‌کنه و پایه‌های اون رو "زمان" می‌دونه و بعد با اشاره به بی‌وفایی جیمز به شخصیت اصلی راه چاره رو فراموشی و مرگ یا عهد‌بستن با امید می‌دونه اون هم درست بعد از وقتی که در ۲۰۰ صفحه‌ی پایانی کتاب ایزابل آرچر رازهای افشانشده‌ای رو از دهان "کنتس جمینای" می‌شنوه و پرده‌ی عظیمی که روی این بنا بود برداشته می‌شه و تا چشم انسان بهش می‌افته حقایقی برملا شه که علت سنگینی این ساختمانِ روابط و پیچیدگی‌های‌ تاریکش بر پایه‌های بنا (زمان) رو مشخص می‌کنه.
اون‌طور که گفته‌شده، سرچشمه‌ی شخصیت ایزابل دخترعموی محبوب جیمز در جوانی بوده که در ۲۴ سالگی بر اثر ابتلا به سل می‌میره و فکر سرنوشت تلخ و آرزوهای بربادرفته‌‌شون، ذهن هنری رو تا دم مرگ به‌خودش مشغول نگه‌ داشته.
تصویر یک زن تصویری نیست که خود ایزابل تمام و کمال به‌دستش بده. همونطور که مشخصه سهم بیشتر تکامل تصویر ایزابل بر دوش شخصیت‌های دیگر داستانه. اون هم به طوری‌که جیمز در قالب راوی‌‌ای مدرن بر همه چیزِ درونی سیطره داره و این ویژگی‌هارو در رفتارها و گفتارهای شخصیت‌های دیگر داستان قرار می‌ده تا پازل‌های این تصویر کنار هم بچسبن و اون رو شکل بدن اون هم با نفوذ در جهان‌های ذهنی و لایه‌لایه‌کردن شخصیت‌ها برای پیدا کردن کلید حل معما. ولی آیا جیمز جواب سوالی که پرسیده رو میده؟ باید بین سطور و در شکاف‌های خالی و پُرِ زمان دنبال پاسخش گشت.

پ.ن: علی‌رغم بعضا روده‌درازی‌های جیمز در برخی نقاط داستان به‌خصوص در اواسط کتاب -جایی که داستان در ایتالیا می‌گذره- و همینطور ترجمه‌‌ای که بد بودنش محسوس بود و از اصطلاحات محاوره‌ی سنتی زبان فارسی استفاده کرده بود یا بعضا جملات سلیس و روان نبودند و با منظور نویسنده تا جایی که با متن اصلی مقایسه کردم مطابقت نداشت، چیزی که بسیار برام درمورد این کتاب جالب و قابل‌توجه بود این بود که هنری جیمز یکی از اولین افرادی‌ست که اصطلاح "جریان سیال ذهن" (stream of consciousness) رو به‌کار برده و در جواب مقایسه با اصطلاح "رشته‌ی فکر" اون رو تایید و به رودخانه تشبیه می‌کرد و در کنار جویس و وولف و فاکنر و پروست جایی رو برای خودش در ادبیات مدرن دست‌وپا کرده که روحمم خبردار نبود. ترغیب شدم که بیشتر ازش بخونم.


۴ آبان‌ماه ۱۴۰۳

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! :)

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I made my way to the strange and lovely The Portrait of a Lady (1881) via a series of James’s earlier novels and novellas: Roderick Hudson (1875); The American (1877); Daisy Miller (1878). That made an appealing approach route. There are strong thematic continuities among all these fictions, so you have a sense of James working through the same concerns from a variety of different angles. At the same time, Portrait seems a clear advance on the earlier novels and a kind of consummation or climax, perhaps a breakthrough: an indisputable masterpiece, in any case.

The introduction to my edition (Oxford World’s Classics, ed. Roger Luckhurst) points to analogies between James’s Portrait and Sargent’s oblique, evocative, “hauntingly incomplete” female portraits, citing especially the compelling 1882 group portrait The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit, which James praised in an essay. I found that parallel hugely suggestive. In his introduction to Portrait for the New York edition (1908), James draws on architecture as an analogy when speaking of his novel, yet Sargent’s portrait, with its elliptical framing and free, sketchy handling of paint and air of suffused mystery—and sheer beauty—worked better for me.

The plot of The Portrait of a Lady is somewhere between sentimental education and tragedy, in classic sense of great man, or great woman, brought down by a fatal flaw. We are supposed to fall in love with the heroine, Isabel Archer, I think, as does just about every man in the novel, not to mention its author. I’m not sure I did, exactly, but she is certainly absorbing, and she grew considerably in stature for me as the novel progressed.

The surrounding characters are also very successful in the main, although I shared James’s later reflection there is a little too much of Isabel’s bustling lady journalist friend Henrietta Stackpole. I especially loved Ralph Touchett, Isabel’s witty, wise, brave, cousin, who spends the entire novel gradually dying of consumption. In Jane Campion’s 1996 film, Ralph is styled in a way that recalls Sargent’s wonderful 1885 portrait of Robert Louis Stevenson. I’d love to believe that Ralph was James’s own portrait of Stevenson, but the two writers didn’t meet until 1885, so I guess I will have to abandon that theory.

Two novels I was strongly reminded of while reading The Portrait of a Lady were Les liaisons dangeureuses, for certain details of the plot (Jane Campion cleverly underlines this subtext by casting John Malkovich, who played Valmont in the 1988 film of Laclos’s novel, as Gilbert Osmond), and Middlemarch, for the character and predicament of Isabel, who has quite a bit of the Dorothea Brooke in her literary DNA. Her surname, Archer, for me, recalled the tradition of the huntress goddess Diana and her free-spirited nymphs. Isabel, too, has a kind of restless, free-wheeling, huntress spirit at the beginning of the novel; she wants to do something and be something, other than the romance heroine whose sole possible plot line leads inexorably to marriage. That is part of her resemblance to Dorothea, as is her fatal naivety and her disastrous taste in men.

Among James’s own novels, one that I kept thinking of as I read Portrait—apart from the 1870s works mentioned above—his much later The Spoils of Poynton. As in Spoils, houses and art collections and object collections feature very large in Portrait, similarly infused with desire and entangled with human relations and human identities. Among the houses, the Touchetts’ idyllic Gardencourt is beautifully evoked, as is Gilbert Osmond’s exquisite, over-curated hothouse of a Florentine villa.

In an important exchange early in the novel, Isabel professes disdain for the appurtenances of a discarded suitor—she doesn’t care whether he lives in a castle or an ugly townhouse—and her worldly new friend, Madame Merle, lectures her instead on the importance of externals in defining our identity for others (“I’ve a great respect for things! One’s self—for other people—is one’s expression of one’s self; and one’s house, one’s garments, the books one reads, the company one keeps—these things are all very expressive.”) As in Spoils, James shows himself morally wary of this investment in “things,” even as he polishes them up as the sumptuous settings of his novels. Madame Merle’s stated credo of artful self-staging gains a dire dramatic irony as the novel plays out.

Henry James' The Portrait of a Lady is considered to be one of the first American novels to make full use of social and psychological realism as European authors - such as Flaubert, Balzac and George Eliot - were already practicing in their works. Considered to be his biggest accomplishment along with The Ambassadors, Portrait added Isabel Archer to the company of great fictional heroines - as the likes of Elizabeth Bennet, Becky Sharp and Jane Eyre - and, in a century marked by unsatisfied bourgeois wives and adultery in fiction - Madame Bovary and Anna Karenina come to mind -, it was a breath of fresh air to accompany and delve into James' protagonist's thoughts and inner feelings.

Starting with a very slow pace, the narrative contains long and elaborate descriptions. It feels James is painting a richly detailed picture for every scene. As we arrive in Gardencourt - the Touchett's English country estate where our story opens and closes -, we encounter Mr. Touchett, his son Ralph and a family friend called Lord Warburton. Among other things, they discuss how Mrs. Lydia Touchett is in America and will bring along her niece called Isabel Archer to visit Europe.

Isabel is a young woman, from Albany, New York, who accepts her aunt's offer to initially stay with her in Gardencourt and then later travel through the continent, eager to explore and be enriched by the places she's never been before and experience life at its fullest. Upon her arrival, we begin to learn what her ideals and plans are, along with her hopes and dreams.

Since the beginning, her cousin Ralph seems to have been as curious as we were to see what Isabel would make of her life. In a way, we almost could say Ralph was conducting an experiment: Isabel had an independent mind, she was emotionally and psychologically self-sufficient - didn't seem inclined to get married for the time being, which was different for a girl of her age at the time. She was thirsty for knowledge first and foremost: “I don’t want to begin life by marrying”, Isabel asserts to Ralph. “There are other things a woman can do." But without money, how far could she go with her unattached ways? She was probably bound to eventually getting married. Her cousin, then, arranged it and she became financially independent as well. Certain that he was doing Isabel a good deed, Ralph convinced his father - who was very fond of Isabel - at his deathbed to leave her an impressive amount of money. Now she had all that was necessary to decide her destiny without any barriers or anyone to hold her back. The experiment was on.

After traveling for over a year, the now wealthy Isabel Archer is in Florence, where her aunt lives. A friend she greatly admired, Madame Merle - Mrs. Touchett's close friend who Isabel got acquainted with some time after she arrived in Gardencourt - skillfully introduces her to Gilbert Osmond: an American expatriate widower who's lived in Italy for years. Isabel is very impressed with his refinement and intelligence and thinks of him as having a beautiful mind. Despite her family and friends complaints about this relationship, Isabel - after having declined two previous suitors - accepts Osmond's marriage proposal.

The story then jumps in time and there's a narrative shift: for a bit, James leaves Isabel and Osmond in the background while he focuses on Pansy Osmond - Osmond's young daughter - and Edward Rosier - Isabel's childhood friend who's in love with Miss Osmond and is trying to get Madame Merle to help him marry his darling girl. Through their story, we still have glimpses of Isabel's life and we learn that she's been now married for two years and that she lost a son who died six months after his birth. Isabel and her husband seems to disagree about everything and we learn she's unhappy.

Henry James, who once conducted a very slow paced - almost contemplative - narrative, gradually started to accelerate it, adding drama and a sense of urgency to his words.

Right after an unsettling argument with Osmond one evening, Isabel, now feeling more distraught than ever, starts pondering and analyzing the many circumstances she finds herself in. The author immerses us in a deeply personal and intensely psychological account of her thoughts and emotions. Among the things Isabel reflected upon for a long time were the conclusion that her husband must hate her and the realization that Osmond had gained total control of her - the once independent and strong witted woman was now a subjugated spirit; the woman who once seemed to be against doing what was expected of her was now conforming to her husband's decisions. "When the clock struck four she got up; she was going to bed at last, for the lamp had long since gone out and the candles burned down to their sockets."

Complicating things even further is the revelation Countess Gemini - Osmond's sister - makes to Isabel of a long time secret, that leaves her completely shaken. This only comes to deteriorate even more her relationship with Gilbert. Now, fully aware of the situation she was put in through manipulations and schemes, Isabel is faced with a big decision: her cousin Ralph is dying in Gardencourt and her dictatorial husband is completely against her visiting England. Showing the old Isabel may still be somewhere locked inside of herself, she confronts her husband and leaves to be with her cousin.

The Portrait of a Lady, through its length, presents a number of opposites, but the most striking ones are the battles between freedom vs. destiny and affection vs. betrayal. In the book's final moments, we witness that Isabel is offered a way to go back to where and to whom she was when she first came to Europe: "The world's all before us - and the world's very big", she is told. She could once again explore life and fill herself with hopes - but declined the opportunity: "The world's very small", she answered. With a much talked about conclusion that has both fascinated and infuriated - another battle of opposites? - readers, James' ending remains open to a lot of interpretations.

It's disturbing to watch an unhappily married woman with an opportunity to leave it all behind - and the means to do it - simply not choosing freedom. Did Osmond finally accomplish to shatter her spirit? Another theory is that maybe marriage was an unbreakable vow and she felt she had a moral duty to her husband. Or was she trying to be protective of Pansy - who was mirroring Isabel's unhappiness and was another example of a woman who seemed to think that she was obliged to follow other's decisions even if it made her unhappy - and determined to stand by her side and not let the same happen to her step daughter? Innumerable possibilities...

James has been known for structuring his novels with a series of circles surrounding a center. With that in mind, a hopeful interpretation of the book's ending is that, in order to complete that circle, Isabel must return to her husband, properly end her marriage so she could once again be able to start anew and free her spirit once and for all.

Rating: for such an interesting and comprehensive analysis of freedom, human consciousness and ultimately, existentialism: 4 stars.

"Liberty means responsibility. That is why most men dread it."
----- G.B.Shaw

With no offence to men at all, I quoted the above because of its relevance with this work by Henry James.

Essentially written about the idea of freedom / liberty, its assertion and realization, in the wake of limits imposed by conventions or moral ideals, specifically in case of women, is at the heart of this work. A beautiful Portrait, a work of art. An art work not because the protagonist is looked upon as an object by other characters, but also because one can look upon the portrait, marvel at the depth of her character and contemplate what her final gesture meant.

While Ralph, her cousin, is amused by her and helps her to inherit a fortune, if only to witness what the liberal woman would make of it, a reader looks upon her, empathetically. While Madam Merle orchestrates (arranges) her meeting with Osmond and make sure that she marries him, the reader is appalled at the apparent innocence on her face. While Osmond thinks of her as a material to work with, thereby decorating his house with her, the reader is apprehensive about her next step. While Mr. Goodwood never looses interest in her life and come back again and again to see how she is living, the reader is curiously stirred by mere thought of a passion.

So everyone, including the reader, look upon her, judge her decisions and contemplate her steps.

But this work by James is not mere that. It is a reflection upon the ideal of freedom and its execution in a woman’s life; an action, struggle and the consequent decisions taken, by choice. This is what James has achieved with this work; that liberty is not only an ideal but a responsibility too. Though the reader may not approve of her step at the end, keeping in mind the betrayal of trust brought about by Madam Merle and Osmond, but it is to kept in mind that her decision at the end is her own will too. A will which comes not merely from the limitations imposed but also from the vow to remain true to oneself. In Isabel’s case, it must be attributed to her choice to remain present in Pansy’s life.


P.S.A star less because of the apparent infatuation of H.James with aristocracy; big houses, paintings, idle ways, travels and interestingly, no one seemed to be doing anything of importance whatsoever other than taking an interest in Isabel’s life.