There was good in the old ways. There was good in the new order too.

So, I did it. I finally finished The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton (Pulitzer 1921). And while I would be the first to admit that I didn't really care for the book, I will also be the first to admit that I was able to find meaning in the work, and in that regard, I found pleasure. In the end, it was worth the read.

Perhaps is was the affluent 1920's New York setting that originally turned me off, Jane Austen without the enduring Elizabeth Bennett and Elinor Dashwood. Perhaps it was reading this work from a modern women's perspective that made my stomach churn. Whatever the reason, I was able to find solace in the beauty of her words (and, believe me, there were plenty to choose from). At 353 pages, I was reminded of something a fellow reader once said: " I tend to stay away from the early works. They described things in too much detail." Here, here.

The story is told from the perspective of Newland Archer, and upon first introduction you learn that is freshly engaged to the Diana-like May Welland. However, within the first few chapters, you learn that his affections are easily swayed by her infamous cousin, the Countess Ellen Olenska, who has fled back to New York from Europe after scandalously separating from her husband. (Funny how standards change over time.) Secret rendezvouses ensue despite the nuptuals, and while Newland dreams of running away with his bohemian soulmate, the only act of adultary is commited in their minds and a few stolen kisses. (Sorry to ruin it for you. I know you were about to run out and buy a copy.)

Newland struggles with the clastrophobic sameness of his upper-class existance and faults May, his new wife, for her inability to challenge the norm. Countess Olenska, on the other hand, is the Yin to May's Yang. She prefers good music, literature, and conversation over "dictates of Taste." Newland, despite his desires, ultimately follows the path most becoming of a gentleman of means and became "in short, what people were beginning to call a 'good citizen,'" living "a life that had been too starved..."

I guess this was the part that spoke to me the most. We tell our children that they can be whatever they want to be, but do we really mean it? Are we really saying you can be whatever you want to be as long as it fits in with what I find acceptable? Will you still display pride in your child if they deviate from the perceived norm? For the more liberal thinkers, I think the answers to these questions come a little bit more easily, but there are still those, like the Archers and the Wellands, that will critize and disown for fair less.

When the book was first published in 1920, The Nation said, "Wharton describes the customs of a vanished age as familiarly as if she loved them and as lucidely as if she hated them." Rightly so. Wharton has a way of painting the people in such a away that you cannot decipher whether she admires or dispieses the society of which she writes. Her objectiveness alone showcases an amazing talent for storytelling, but combined with her timeless tale of innocence lost, this novel is much deserving of the Pulizer Prize. Well done.

I am not quite sure what will be next on the list for me. I will have to wait until the library opens on the 6th. However, Andy and I still have about 50 pages left in The Optimist's Daughter (Eudora Welty) before we can call it completed. Planning for a birthday party has left us little time to read. With that behind us now, I should be posting my next review in a matter of days. I know you will be waiting with great anticipation, but until then...

Happy reading.