I’ve been trying to read more of my physical books, especially older ones purchased decades ago at warehouse sales, secondhand bookstores (which feel like dying business in my part of the world), and from the lovely global community that was BookMooch. The Age of Innocence was one purchased from a Penguin warehouse sale, and its cover is just so lovely (see this link).
It’s 1870s, and Newland Archer is rich, educated, and a little bored, so he decides marriage is a good way to not only occupy his time but also grow as a person and experience all that life has to offer a rich guy. Unfortunately, he’s engaged to May Welland, who isn’t concerned with self-betterment unless New York City’s high society dictates it. May’s cousin, the recently separated Ellen Olsenka, arrives just in time to make Archer question his choices.
During the early parts of the book, I found the three leads, Archer, Ellen, and May, to be the least interesting people in the book. I haven’t seen the movie, but imagining Daniel Day-Lewis, Michelle Pfeiffer, and Winona Ryder did not help. The supporting New York City society characters were, by leaps and bounds, more interesting in their eccentricities and unpredictability. I had thoughts like, “Is Ellen what the kids now call a pick-me?” She sometimes struck me as someone who spent a few years abroad and made that her entire personality. Yet, as the story progresses, Wharton builds a complex web of main and supporting characters while immersing the reader in the life of New York City elites. I ended up flying through the pages, sometimes rolling my eyes at these “poor little rich kids,” but mostly feeling deeply for them as they struggled and chafed in their situations.
The tension between Archer and Ellen, to me, felt a little superficial. Given the context, I think they just realized they were a better match for each other than their current attachments, but it didn’t feel any deeper than that. For the most part, Wharton’s focus is primarily on how these individuals function within and in relation to their social context rather than exploring individual relationships, so the relationships are more opaque (save for May’s and Archer’s relationship). The majority of the story is also told through Archer’s perspective, so I developed a soft spot for him as the story progressed. Wharton actually made me root for someone who would be considered a cheater (technically)! Which is why the ending of the story (no spoilers ahead) left me reeling and emotional because that was not the resolution I wanted for Archer, and yet, it was also the most likely one.
Wharton’s writing is absolutely stupendous. Despite being published more than a 100 years ago, it doesn’t feel aged (save for certain words that are more esoteric now). Her observations are funny, ahead of their time, and damned if she’s unafraid of being judgy of her own characters, which is wonderful for us readers. Notably, an important supporting character is regularly described in what would be considered now as fatphobic terms, which may put off some readers (understandably). However, this was also a character that Wharton seemed to admire, so it didn’t bother me too much, but definitely broke my reading flow a few times.
How Wharton writes May Welland’s character is also particularly fascinating. It’s hard to put into words how adept she is at writing a character that the book’s synopsis describes as conventional and safe. Wharton lays bare exactly why May is conventional in harsh, unexpected, and amusing ways. Perhaps this was the template for young society women of that time, but it’s a pretty deep study of a woman who should be the least interesting character in the book. It’s not that Wharton even likes May, but she’s written from a place of knowledge. As such, what makes this book singular to me is this dissection of what makes a person interesting or simple.
Despite of their best efforts, however, the dinner was a languishing affair. Archer noticed that his wife’s way of showing herself at her ease with foreigners was to become more uncompromisingly local in her references, so that, though her loveliness was an encouragement to admirations, her conversation was a chill to repartee. – Edith Wharton
All in all, loved Wharton’s writing, so I will be seeking out The House of Mirth soon!
