(no subject)

May 16, 2007 19:42

You know what, kids, this is the verdict on Henry James: the man, the legend.
He is intense, he is amazing/boring. He is over-analytical, profound on psychological profiles, kind and even-handed. He only writes about the Victorian bourgeoisie, Americans and Europeans, tourists at leisure. He is fair to women, nice to children, firm with his men.
From time to time, there are glimpses of intense and stunning poetry:
'the plash of milk'
'turned up a face like February sky'
'her mouth like a struck match'
that make you drop the book. Because you know he is a visionary, and he sees all of the beauty all of the time. So why does he bother to write about these self-indulgent, over-picnicked rich kids?
Because they are people.

And that's how Henry James won me over.
Although he is the opposite of the lascivious DH Lawrence. There was one mention of sex in twelve weeks, and two kisses. ACHE! At one point I actually went to the contemp. scots. section of the library and gorged on the sex-and-skag books, just to retox.

Start with the short stories(ex. Daisy Miller), then hit The Aspern Papers then Portrait of a Lady or What Maisie Knew.

verdicts, henry james

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