Book: The Age of Innocence
Author: Edith Wharton
Year: 1920
clatter’s nutshell summary and review: Another Pulitzer Prize winner, this novel I suspected would be one that, however wonderful, would still be very…dated. Of course in some regards it was, but I found myself constantly surprised by how much of what Wharton tells is timeless: the struggle of finding that balance between what is expected of you and what you really want (the tried and true theme of head vs. heart). She also kept me guessing till the end – one of which I was a big fan. I often got fed up with the pretension of the elite, but that was precisely Wharton's point - and she pulled it off flawlessly (probably didn’t hurt that she herself grew up in it). Strangely I found myself somehow relating to Newland Archer. You wouldn’t think I’d find much common ground with an affluent gentleman of New York society in the late 19th century, other than the fact that we both practice law (with over 100 years of Supreme Court decisions separating us). No, I haven't been engaged to one person and secretly pining for another, but still, we shared a few moments where I really understood the guy. But that might just be because he was created by a woman.
clatter’s favorite passage: It’s a little longer than you might care to read, but it’s worth it. I dare you.
"The young man was sincerely but placidly in love. He delighted in the radiant good looks of his betrothed, in her health, her horsemanship, her grace and quickness at games, and the shy interest in books and ideas that she was beginning to develop under his guidance. (She had advanced far enough to join him in ridiculing the Idylls of the King, but not to feel the beauty of Ulysses and the Lotus Eaters.) She was straightforward, loyal, and brave; she had a sense of humour (chiefly proved by her laughing at his jokes); and he suspected, in the depths of her innocently gazing soul, a glow of feeling that it would be a joy to waken. But when he had gone the brief round of her he returned discouraged by the thought that all this frankness and innocence were only an artificial product. Untrained human nature was not frank and innocent; it was full of the twists and defences of an instinctive guile. And he felt oppressed by this creation of factitious purity, so cunningly manufactured by a conspiracy of mothers and aunts and grandmothers and long-dead ancestresses, because it was supposed to be what he wanted, what he had a right to, in order that he might exercise his lordly pleasure in smashing it like an image made of snow."
Isn't that great? I want to learn how to write like that (and did you notice how even Wharton embraces the use of the parentheses like me?). She could have dumbed it down to "His fiancée looks good on paper, and she should be right for him…except that she’s not.” But Wharton chose the verbose, slightly fancy, slightly sardonic avenue instead, and for that I tip my hat (see below for an example) to her. Had I lived when Edith did, she and I would have been friends. At second glance, I’m not so sure. Her dogs look a little mean.
I love this photo. If I ever need fashion inspiration, I know where to go – far, far from this place.
clatter’s favorite food moment: New York high society in the 1880s? You better believe there were some food moments. I especially liked this one: “He breakfasted with appetite and method, beginning with a slice of melon, and studying a morning paper while he waited for his toast and scrambled eggs.” Breakfast as a verb? Fantastic – and not used often enough. May this also serve as further evidence of why I’d never cut it as a true elitist. I may eat with appetite (very much so, in fact), but there’s nothing methodical about how I eat. And there’s no way I’d eat just a single slice of melon.
Recipe: Pointe d’Asperge
Date: May 18, 1879
NY Times: “Receipts for the Table.” Recipe by “Chef of the B___ Club”
clatter's thoughts: I’m dying to know what the B____ Club is. My money's on the Babysitters Club. Oh! Or the Breakfast Club. I chose 1879 instead of the year Wharton wrote the book because I thought it might be fun to eat as the characters of the novel might. I knew I must try this particular recipe because I’m training myself to prepare and like asparagus, and it’s one of the season’s It vegetables. But more importantly, Hesser wrote this before the recipe: “This dish brings to mind silver salvers and Edith Wharton.” Ahh! See, it was meant to be! Pointe d’Asperge is basically blanched asparagus tips (I used the whole thing) with an “evanescent” sauce made of butter, onion, water, egg yolk, salt, and sugar. It was kinda good (mostly not), but I still tried to pull off my best Newland Archer impression and eat it with method.
So, can anything even come close to the illustrious writings of Edith Wharton? How about the movie version? It might be time to add a little Daniel Day Lewis to my Netflix queue, especially after coming across this on Food52 a couple of days ago. I swear, I finished the book weeks ago and have no affiliation to this post (for those of you who aren’t familiar, Food52 is an Amanda Hesser-run blog). These things seem to keep happening to me, but I assure you, all of them are of pure coincidence. I'm not a total fake, I promise. I may fill you with empty (or delayed, rather) promises about writing, but I do not steal ideas. Just thought I'd let you know.
No comments:
Post a Comment