House of Mirth, Edith Wharton
Jesus, forget Ford Madox For, this is the saddest story I have ever heard. Poor tragic dumb Lily Bart, who can’t live without society and it’s trappings, but can’t quite bring herself play the game the way she needs too. Ugh. I could barely re-read this, knowing where it ends. I love The Age of Innocence, and of course, that one doesn’t end well for the lovers, but Mirth, Christ, I can barely think about it. It’s like a horror movie - you keep wanting to yell at Lily to make one good choice - or one “good choice” - anything but stumbling along as she does.
And, of course, it’s fabulously well written. Edith Wharton was the real deal, and this story is as good as anything she’s done - I think you can safely say its her masterpiece. But it’s only for the strong of stomach - you need to be able to read about a young lady ruining her own life - and I for one, think twice is enough for Mirth. I’ll stick with Newland Archer and Countess Oleska.
Categories: Fiction, Modern Library Top 100, Re-Read
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