Categories
American Literature World literature

ImoReads… ‘The Custom of the Country’ (1913) by Edith Wharton

Blog 32

“She had everything she wanted, but she still felt, at times, that there were other things she might want if she knew about them.”

I have already read two of Edith Wharton’s most famed novels, The Age of Innocence (1920) and The House of Mirth (1905), so I had high hopes for The Custom of the Country. Like many of Wharton’s works the subject is marriage, meaning that the subtext is divorce. The Custom of the Country thrusts us into pre-World War One New York, focusing on an aristocratic society struggling to maintain its old word social conventions in the face of modernity and new ideas.

The novel takes place over several years of the early twentieth century and centres on the beautiful but amoral young woman Undine Spragg. Undine and her parents have just moved from the Mid-West town of Apex to New York City, and her goal is to marry a rich man admired in society to kickstart her social career. Though divorce is possible at this time, it is heavily frowned upon by the upper echelons of society and yet, by the end of The Custom of the Country Undine has succeeded in dissolving three marriages in her pursuit of social “triumph” and is starting to become dissatisfied with her fourth. Undine is single-minded in her goal and is indifferent to who she may hurt along the way. Her various exploits take us from New York to France and back, providing an eye-opening look into society, respectability and the female struggle in this era.

Many have drawn comparisons between Undine Spragg and Becky Sharp, the central character of Thackeray’s Vanity Fair (1848). Like Undine, Becky comes from outside society but is determined to marry her way in; she is ruthless, cold and uses men to get to the top, and like Undine, she reluctantly bears a son who she would go on to neglect. However, unlike in Vanity Fair, there are no moralising elements in The Custom of the Country. No normative friends, no narratorial passages condemning the corruption of the anti-heroine – the literary tradition is closer to that of Trollope in The Way We Live Now (1875), which he wrote as a reproach of the financial scandals of the 1870s and how they revealed the levels of dishonesty and corruption present in respectable society.

Undine’s first ‘high society’ marriage is to Ralph Marvell, who comes from an Old New York Society aristocratic family. For Undine, marriage is not about getting a husband; it is instead an entry into the world of money, society and position, which to her are everything. Frankly, who her husband is does not matter too much to Undine, as long as he can fund her lifestyle and is respectable enough to allow her a life of amusement in the right social circle. Undine uses her dazzling beauty to manipulate men into doing what she wants, and the artistic, intelligent Ralph finds out too late that Undine has no interest in intellectual or creative pursuits and that she is mercenary and extravagant. However, Wharton critiques Ralph as much as she does Undine – he sees her as a blank page on which he will create his ideal wife who will fit right in to his fantasy life. As with her second husband, the French aristocrat Raymond de Chelles, once Ralph pierces the veil of her beautiful façade that he himself has imagined based on her striking good looks, he realises in a moment as comic as it is tragic, that there is not much substance to Undine at all. 

Though Undine is not a likeable character, we can draw some comparisons between her and Wharton. When The Custom of the Country was published in 1913 Wharton was newly divorced after a long and unhappy marriage and she had permanently settled in France, where she would remain until her death. Undine is completely enamoured with Paris and it is there she sets her sights on the aristocrat de Chelles, and when we hear of her string of divorces and the fact that she somehow continues to be accepted in society, there is undoubtedly a hint of admiration in the narrative voice. 

It is also interesting to note the cultural differences between the United States and France when Undine marries de Chelles. In some ways they are portrayed as very positive; speaking of America, a character named Charles Bowen comments that society marriages are unhappy because men take little to no interest in what their wives have to say, and do not let them in to the world of business. Instead, they furnish their wives with material things which they in turn pretend constitute a happy marriage to their fellow female friends. In France, women are deemed to have much more intellectual independence, and men respect and are interested in women with opinions, knowledge and academic and cultural interests, suggesting that marriage is more of a partnership. It is this fundamental difference that is ultimately the last straw in the internal disintegration of Undine’s marriage to de Chelles – once he realises there is no intellectuality beneath her ‘beautiful façade’, he becomes indifferent to her. However, this intellectual independence does not allow French women to escape the everyday tedium that comes with marriage – Undine’s expectations of a dazzling life in Paris with Raymond come crashing down when she is forced to remain at the de Chelles’ country estate for ten months of the year, fulfilling her wifely duties and always having to submit to the will and age-old traditions of the family. It is this portion of the book which displays French social customs as even more stifling than those of New York, and it is perhaps the only part in which we feel Undine has some justification for wanting out of the marriage.

Interestingly, Undine’s first and last marriages are to fellow Apex alumni Elmer Moffatt. The first time was a youthful elopement hastily terminated by Undine’s parents before their move to New York, and the second time was when Moffatt had made it big in business in New York and Undine had divorced de Chelles. Moffatt is of the same background as Undine and is abundantly wealthy, so provides her with everything she had ever wanted throughout the entirety of the novel, yet even then her inexhaustible selfishness sees her wanting more still at the close of the novel.

The Custom of the Country is a sharp and fascinating commentary on early twentieth century society, and expertly demonstrates how veils of respectability hide a world of self-centred ambition and a mutual disconnection between men and women. Marriage is portrayed as universally unsatisfying, while the triumph of divorce as an escape is only ephemeral, as it leads only to the next disappointing marriage. Though it may seem too cynical, I would definitely recommend this book because it forces you to realise the cutthroat nature of people trying to make it in the world through a string of scandals.

Happy reading,

Imo x

Categories
American Literature

ImoReads… ‘The Little Friend’ (2002) by Donna Tartt

Blog 15

“She was young still, and the chains had not yet grown tight around her ankles…Whatever was to be done, she would do it.” 

Ever since reading Donna Tartt’s beguiling and thrilling first novel The Secret History (1992 – blog coming soon!) a couple of years back, I knew that she was a literary force to be reckoned with. So, when I came to read her sophomore novel The Little Friend, published ten years later, I expected great things; I can safely say that it didn’t disappoint. Tartt has only published three novels thus far, the third being the Pulitzer prize-winning The Goldfinch (2014) that I have yet to read. However, I think we can all agree that if it takes a decade to craft each work, then we are dealing with fiction that is incredibly well-researched, intensely vibrant and detailed, with impressively complex plots and characters (meaning this is another long blog – sorry!)

Plot

Although famously elusive about her private life, we do know that Donna Tartt grew up in Greenwood, Mississippi, a town known for its thriving cotton plantation culture in the nineteenth century. The Little Friend is set in the fictional Mississippi town of Alexandria in the late 1970s, but I imagine that many of the cultural references are reminiscent of her own upbringing in Greenwood.

The story centres on twelve-year-old Harriet Cleve Dufresnes over one school summer holidays. Harriet is quick-witted, engaging, persuasive, a total bookworm and certainly has an intelligence beyond her years. When she was just a baby, her nine-year-old brother Robin (who was the unquestionable darling of the family) was found hanged in the backyard in broad daylight on Mother’s Day. This haunting crime, told to us in the prologue, has never been solved and has left irrevocable tears in the fabric of the family.

Harriet, who has grown up in the aftermath of this tragedy, takes it upon herself to solve the mystery of her brother’s murder this one summer, and for this task she enlists the help of her friend eleven-year-old Hely; he is so hopelessly devoted to Harriet that she knows he will do whatever she says. However, what starts as a childish mission soon turns menacing and dark as they dig deeper into the mystery.

Race relations

Anyone who has read my blog on Gone With The Wind will know that novels set in the American Deep South are of great historical interest to me. The time period of the book is never explicitly stated – and it took me a while to work out that it is in fact set in the late 70s. This is because in terms of the race relations between black and white characters, it could easily have been set in Scarlett O’Hara’s time of nearly one hundred years earlier. 

That is, Harriet is from an ‘old money’ white family, and many references are made to their Civil War-era ancestral home, a now destroyed house named Tribulation. Like all the other respectable white families in town, the Dufresnes live in a big house and employ a black housemaid and gardener. 

In her childish innocence Harriet adores the family housemaid Ida Rhew more than her own mother, and yet will refer to the ‘black’ neighbourhood as ‘niggertown’ as she has heard other adults do, without realising the racism in what she is saying. 

Throughout the novel it becomes obvious that there has been no upward mobility for the black population of Alexandria. They are employed in menial jobs only, they live in the poorer end of town and they are still viewed with contempt and irrational suspicion by many of the white adult characters, even those who are the most ‘reasonable’. In fact, it was only cultural references to certain television shows, car models and current affairs that allowed me to place the novel in the late 1970s. This novel is an unnerving indication of how deep-set and rigid casual racism and attitudes of white superiority still are in the Deep South.

Narrative voices

The Little Friend is told from the perspectives of two characters – Harriet and her main murder suspect, a poor white man named Danny Ratliff who was a classmate and friend of Robin. Now a young man, Danny is a methamphetamine dealer and addict who just wants to escape his destructive family and start over. The Ratliffs are notorious in Alexandria; Danny and his brothers have all served time for various offences, and they live in a state of poverty and depravity in a trailer outside of town. 

It becomes obvious to the reader pretty quickly that Danny is unlikely to be Robin’s killer and is in many ways a victim of the American class system (which places poor whites at the very bottom of the hierarchy), but Harriet and Hely become convinced it was him due to the subconscious effect of the town’s prejudice towards the Ratliffs, and years-old rumours that Danny had bragged about committing the murder.

The excellence of this novel is that Tartt can observe with the skewed lucidity of a child – and that of a drug addict – to give a stark view of the world as unforgiving, scary, bleak and inconclusive, filtered through the bright colours and impossible clarity of childhood assumptions and drug highs. 

As The Little Friend progresses, Harriet and Hely’s attempts to flush out Danny become more and more daring as their misplaced fear of him intensifies, while Danny becomes more and more tormented by the mysterious little girl plaguing his existence. 

Genre

Although at its heart The Little Friend is a crime novel, it also fits well within the genre of adventure fiction as that is how Harriet and Hely perceive the whole escapade. There is peril, excitement and a series of events that are completely out of the ordinary in these children’s daily lives – all tropes of the adventure genre. We discover early on that Harriet has a keenness for adventure; multiple times throughout the novel she can be found reading about/referring to/imagining famed British explorer Robert Falcon Scott who led two expeditions to the Antarctic, included the ill-fated Terra Nova voyage.

Tartt’s merging of genres creates a fast-paced, tense, exciting and at times humorous story which may not have been the case if the protagonist had been an adult lacking the imagination, creativity and enthusiasm possessed by children like Harriet and Hely.

The intense detail in the settings, descriptive passages and the many sub-plots which I have not had space to mention here are a credit to Tartt and her ability to impeccably weave together seemingly unrelated details into a crucial plot point.

I won’t reveal what happens in the nail-biting finale, but what I will say is that this tale has a strong message about morality, conscience and guilt which will leave you thinking about it long after finishing reading.

For me The Secret History still has the edge, but The Little Friend is still an excellent follow up which is completely unputdownable. Next, The Goldfinch

Happy reading,

Imo x