The Age of Mirth by Edith Wharton

I have been wanting to read The Age of Mirth by Edith Wharton for forever. But I could never seem to get my hands on it. Finally, I got a copy from the Wake County Library. Hallelujah! It's fantastic!

Wharton tells the story of Lily Bart, a beautiful, yet poor, member of New York's upper crust in the late 19th century. Her father died, leaving she and her mother in debt. Before she died, her mother impressed upon Lily the absolute necessity of  using her looks to cement a place in society. Realizing she has just one shot to use her only currency, Lily lets a few opportunities slip away as she watches much plainer women marry into comfort. 

The book opens in her 29th year. Time is getting short. She has confided in her friend Lawrence Selden that she has set her sights on Percy Gryce. His obsession with "Americana" and his puritanical instincts notwithstanding, he is rich enough and Lily feels confident she can snag him. Selden, who is only middle class himself, but manages to live an "amphibious" existence in both worlds, chides Lily for her materialistic attitude. She makes it clear to Lawrence that men have far more options than women do. She must parlay her looks into a suitable marriage if she wants any kind of stable life. It's clear that Lawrence would marry her, but she leaves him no hope as he simply cannot cement her place in high society. 

Unfortunately, Percy is not so easily caught and the games Lily plays to pique his interest backfire. Eventually he announces his engagement to another wealthy socialite. 

Despite her very limited funds, Lily has insisted on keeping up appearances. But after Percy's departure, she takes a hard look at her finances. The husband of her best friend, Gus Tenor, offers to "invest" her meager savings, saying he gets "tips" from the barely tolerated, rich, Jewish banker Sim Rosedale. He quickly turns her mere hundreds of dollars into thousands. Lily, feeling confident that she has found the secret to economic freedom, carelessly spends almost all the money immediately. Once the money is gone, her source, Trenor, makes clear that the money was his and she "owes" him for his trouble. Aghast, she races off with a "frenemy" on a months-long cruise of the Mediterranean. Meanwhile, rumors swirl about her involvment with Trenor.

Although she is a hit in Europe, it becomes apparent that she was only invited to distract her friend's husband while she pursues an affair with another guest. Once she is discovered, she turns the tables and accuses Lily of having an affair with her husband. Since Lily will not accept the husband should he leave his wife, he feels he must return to his wife and accept the libel on Lily. This new tawdry rumor, combined with the prior allegations, make it back to the aunt who has supported Lily since her mother's death. The news apparently kills her, but not before she disinherits Lily. 

Lily returns from Europe, having lost all her friends due to the rumors and all her expectations due to being written out of the will. All she can expect is enough to pay back her original debt to Trenor. But that will take a year to go through probate. In the meantime, she relies on Lawrence and his poor relation, Gertie for survival. She finds work (barely) and moves to a boarding house. But her health suffers and she experiences night after night of sleeplessness. 

She has one opportunity in which to recapture it all, but it involves an act she considers immoral; she can blackmail her "frenemy" and mary Sim Rosedale. In a final display of determination, she destroys the incriminating evidence. She visits Lawrence, convinced that she has thrown away all hope of his love. And she goes home. 

I'll end the summary here. It's too sad. I hate that it ended the way it did. 

It seems that Wharton considered, and then abandoned, the idea that people can live lives of contentment far from the spotlight of "society." We do it everyday. But the book is not about how to live a contented life, it's about the false temptation of a "life worth living." She demolishes that, kind of. Although Lily won't resurrect her former life using immoral (or that immoral) means, we sense she would welcome it back if it was handed to her. She never quite seems to get it. Lawrence has been preaching it (sort of), and she seems to realize that, but in the end, she is incapable of "settling" for a merely happy life. She is stuck. She is an ornamental creature created for one purpose: to look good and attract a man to establish her in society. Maybe that is Wharton's point. Wharton gets it. It's just that Lily (nor anyone else in the story) never quite does. What a tragedy.

Rebel by Bernard Cornwell

One of my favorite historical fiction authors is Bernard Cornwell, so I decided to jump into his Nathaniel Starbuck Chronicles with Rebel, which takes place during the Civil War.

It's an easy read about an unlikely confederate: Nathaniel Starbuck is the son of a Northern abolitionist preacher. Although he was destined for the ministry himself, Starbuck makes a series of bad choices that land him desperate and destitute in Virginia just as Fort Sumter is fired upon. 

He must choose a side. 

And as so often happens, that choice depends on a girl. 

Once he has chosen to abandon his family and his family's values, he leads a ragtag, amateur bunch of hopped up Virginians in the Battle of Bull Run... where they flee in defeat. But that battle is just beginning and Starbuck will live to see the Southeventually defeat the North soundly in that first major battle. 

Now I have to read the next one!

At first, I was a bit disappointed that Starbuck saw his religious family and its values as worthy of rejection. Obviously, I heartily disagree. I also don't love that he's fighting for slavery and the right to own people. 

But it's Cornwell. I think he relishes making religion, specifically Christianity, look hypocritical and soul-crushing. It's more fun to rebel against the True, Good, and Beautiful. I should have expected nothing less. In Cornwell's world up is down and good is bad and morality is how you define it. I guess that works in fiction, but I know enough to know it's a fools errand. 

But it is awfully fun to read and to relive history that way!

 

George Washington's Secret Six by Brian Kilmeade and Don Yaeger

A good friend saw this book at a thrift store and thought of me: George Washington's Secret Six by Brian Kilmeade and Don Yaeger. I'm glad she did. 

I was familiar with story, especially after watching the show Turn, but reading about it was fun.

It tells the harrowing story of six people, centered around Abraham Woodhull (aka Samuel Culper), who smuggle information about New York city to Washington. It's obviously a dangerous job as Nathan Hale had already been hung after being caught as a spy. 

The ring involves Woodhull, a neighbor and tavern owner Austin Roe, printer and coffee shop owner, James Rivington, river boat pilot, Caleb Brewster, shopkeeper Robert Townsend, and the mysterious female agent, 355. All would collect information and add whatever they could as the correspondence made its way to Washington. 

They specifically noticed troop movements and the location and type of military equipment located in and around Manhattan. They were instrumental in diverting attention when the French entered the war on the American side, as well as alerting Washington to the British plans in regards to the French. 

Unfortunately, by its very nature, the spies were accorded little affirmation after the war was won. Some, like James Rivington suffered harm. Being thought of as a staunch loyalist, his cultivated persona, his newspaper suffered and he ended up in debtors prison. Others simply disappeared into the sands of time until discovered years later. We still don't know, and probably never will, who Agent 355 is. She probably died in, or at least was captured and sent to, a hellish prison ship. 

We certainly owe these patriots a debt of honor.

Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro

Our book club chose to read Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro. We had previously read The Remains of the Day, a Downton Abbey-type book, and I expected this to be no different. I was wrong.

This book is slightly dystopian, I suppose. It seems to be set in the near future where children are "lifted" -- that is genetically improved -- and seem to have lost interpersonal skills in the process. AI and robots have been melded into Artificial Friends (AF) to fill this void. 

Klara is an AF and the narrator of the tale. As such, she's an obviously unreliable narrator. She is learning and discovering the world for herself throughout, and so we discover it with her. 

Klara's story begins in the store where she lives with other AFs and Manager, who is "raising" her. Eventually she is bought by Josie's mother and brought to their home. All thoughts of prior friends and even Manager fade into the background as Klara adjusts to her new life. 

It become clear relatively early that Josie has a medical condition that may very well prove fatal. It is through Klara's limited understanding that we seem to find out the condition is the result of the lifting, but that Josie's mom would have chosen to lift her regardless. Strange. In fact, we eventually discover that Klara is being groomed to replace Josie should she die.

And this seems to be a real possibility. 

But... Klara fervently wishes to avoid this outcome, not for her own sake, but because she (alone, maybe?) seems to realize that Josie cannot be simply duplicated. She wants the real Josie to live and to experience a full life. So Klara, who seems to be solar powered, turns to the Sun to make a bargain: heal Josie and Klara will destroy a pollution-generating machine. Of course, once Klara destroys the machine and realizes that it was only one of many such machines, she believes she has failed. In desperation, she asks the Sun to heal Josie because of the great love Josie and her boyfriend, Rick, have for each other. 

For a while, Klara's prayers(?) do not appear to be answered as she would like, but eventually the Sun and his healing rays, shine brilliantly on Josie. She is healed and her life moves on as hoped, even as Rick fades from importance to her. Klara seems to come to believe that the Sun healed Josie, not because of a bargain or even because of her love for Rick, but simply because the Sun chose to do so out of goodness. 

Once Josie heads off to college, her need for an AF seems to disappear. So Klara is forgotten in a closet and eventually shipped off to the dump. Here she will quietly "fade" while reliving her memories. 

I told my book club, "I need you to tell me what I think about this book." I felt lost. The book club helped clear up some confusion, but I guess I still didn't "get it." The books own jacket says that it seeks to "explore a fundamental question: what does it mean to love?" I guess. I mean the mom loved both her daughters -- Josie and her older sister, Sal, who had already died as a result of the lifting -- yet made the same choice for Josie. Dad loves Josie and isn't convinced that an AF can actually replace her, but he's willing to give it a shot. Rick loves Josie and Josie loves Rick, but it turns out that it's just garden-variety teenage infatuation. Klara seems to genuinely love Josie and even sacrifices a great deal to destroy the pollution-inducing machine. In fact, only the robot seems capable of genuine, sacrificial love. But it is not returned. At all. 

Maybe the point is that as we become more technologically advanced, we become less human and the machines become more human? Maybe. Perhaps Ishiguro is warning us that we are losing our humanity, but humanity will out, somewhere, somehow? I don't know. 

And what's the deal with the Sun? Is it a fill in for God? No one else prays except for Klara. And her prayers are answered in a magnificent way. Are we being reminded that we need God and if humans lose that connection, robots, in sheer desperation, will reestablish it? I don't know. 

And why is Klara simply allowed to fade? She is literally a member of the family and then...garbage. It's kind of a reverse Velveteen Rabbit. Again, is this an indictment on humanity? Or is it Ishiguro's way of reminding us that Klara is not actually human and is in fact simply a piece of technology, so it's ok? I don't know. 

Ishiguro raises a lot of interesting questions in our age of heightened technological feats. Genetic engineering? Good or bad? AI? Good or bad? Urban infrastructure? Good or bad? Human souls? Real or imagined? Love? Sacrificial or transactional? God? Present or not? But I'm not sure if he answers the questions. He leaves a lot of ambiguity, and not in a good way. 

It is a somewhat easy read, although the ignorance of the narrator can make it tough at times to understand what is going on. Klara is delightful, but I also know that the way of Artificial Friends leads to death! 

The American Spirit by David McCullough

I bought The American Spirit by David McCullough while visiting a charming bookstore in the historic town of Hillsborough. McCullough is one of my favorite historians and this small paperback seemed approachable. I didn't realize it's simply a collection of speeches he has given over the years. Once I read the first one, I lost interest. It seemed too different from my expectations. But finally, I picked it up and read the rest. In one day. It's that good and that easy to lose yourself in. 

Each speech is a delightful slice of American History, tailored to the local audience. We meet interesting Americans and recall events organized around whatever theme upon which McCullough has chosen to focus. Each is only a few pages long, so it is easy to think, "Just one more." (Which I did until I finished them all!)

My favorite was a speech delivered at Hillsdale College in 2005 (probably not a coincidence, but in fairness, it was really good!), titled, "Knowing Who We Are." He uses the example of the Adams family, John, Abigail, and John Quincy to remind all of us the beautiful inheritance we've been gifted. I love Abigail's admonition to her son upon hearing that he has become a little too big for his britches after being given every advantage: 

"If you are conscious to yourself that you possess more knowledge upon some subjects than others of your standing, reflect that you have had greater opportunities of seeing the world and obtaining knowledge of mankind than any of your contemporaries. That you have never wanted a book, but it has been supplied to you. That your whole time has been spent in the company of men of literature and science. How unpardonable would it have been in you to have turned out a blockhead (p. 118). 

If I ever give a commencement speech of my own, I want to use this! I love this woman!

Despite my initial reticence, McCullough does not disappoint!

The Great Contradiction by Joseph J. Ellis

I seem to be on a Joseph Ellis kick. He's quickly becoming a favorite American historian. The Great Contradiction by Joseph J. Ellis dives into the two great missed opportunities at our country's founding: slavery and the treatment of Native Americans. 

He begins with the great conundrum faced by the Founders. Slavery was already entrenched and yet they had declared "All men are created equal." For the time being, it was enough to assume that meant each colonist was equal to the King. But in the back of their minds, they knew this could equally be applied to the slave. The immovable wall they faced was the how. The North began emancipation immediately in one form or another, but the South saw slavery as too entrenched. Fearing a decimated economy, and naturally suspicious of the other states, the South stood absolutely opposed to any movement away from slavery as a legal and recognized institution. 

Benjamin Franklin's Pennsylvania Abolition Society brought the issue to the first Congress to debate. Clearly the Founding generation knew this was a contradiction and many felt the sooner it was dealt with, the better. But the better angels making the case for freedom were silenced by a recalcitrant South. Not only was emancipation off the table, the first Congress decided to table the issue... indefinitely. They saw it as too inherently destabilizing. We need to remember how fragile The United States actually was. In truth, the colonies only united to defeat the British. That accomplished, they reverted to thirteen independent states, with little to no regard for a central national government. Like their European forebears, they squabbled and threatened each other. It was easy to envision one or more enlisting the help of European allies to declare war on another state. A complete lack of a functioning national government meant the union was helpless to defend itself. A nation not united would easily fall victim to any enterprising power with the patience to wait (see: War of 1812). Demonstrating the most human of all characteristics, they put the matter off for another day, hoping that the future would provide a way out they could not fathom. 

Recalling various missed opportunities, Ellis describes what he terms, "Unpainted Pictures." He begins with the number of African Americans who served in the fight for Independence. This provides a never-realized glimpse of what America could have become, a bi-racial nation embracing equality of all. The geography of the battle, however, worked against this vision. Most of the battle occurred in the North where few slaves lived, and therefore their service and possible emancipation were less threatening. The British had offered freedom to any slaves in the South that joined their ranks. Thousands fled. (Sadly, most of these died of diseases from which they had no immunity.) This meant the South spent their time fighting fleeing slaves rather than welcoming them into the fight against the British. Ellis seems to feel this was the biggest missed opportunity of them all. "The Cause," that is the fight for freedom and equality, was permeating the colonies. During the war, with all its exigencies, they had a chance to rectify a situation handed them by History. But despite the favorable winds, they simply could not overcome the status quo. Although fighting under the banner of The United States, each state felt the fight was for their own individual independence. Therefore any kind of national policy concerning slavery was impossible to pursue, despite the obvious benefits to The Cause.

The second area of contradiction was the treatment of the Native Americans. The Treaty of Paris, signed after the British defeat, gave large swathes of land to the newly formed United States. This effectively handed them areas previously claimed by the natives. America largely chose to treat the Indians, therefore, as a "conquered" people, although they had not, in fact, been conquered, and had not signed the treaty between the U.S. and Britain. While the newly formed American government debated how best to approach obvious conflicts over land, the new Americans took matters into their own hands. They poured into the newly won Western lands faster than the national government could create and enforce policies. One treaty that could have given the Native Americans most of Georgia, Mississippi, and Alabama was undermined by Georgia's state government. Not wanting to lose half of their territory, they encouraged white settlers to flood over the borders. Although the government of the United States had promised to enforce that border, the idea of going to war with its own citizen proved too preposterous to even contemplate. Besides, America had no army capable of protecting a border of the size promised anyways. Indian policy quickly became a loosing battle when faced with the insatiable desire for land from the white settlers.  

Ellis closes with a touching "Unpainted Picture" from Mount Vernon and Monticello. Both Washington and Jefferson saw the contradictions they inherited. Washington chose to free his slaves upon his death, and Martha, fearing an insurrection from her family slaves freed hers as well at that time. Interestingly, Washington divided Mount Vernon among his five inheritors, thus seeming to ensure the negation of Mount Vernon as place locked in time, forever identifying Washington as a slave-owning southern planter. He appears to have wanted a legacy centered around his contributions to the American project to define him. Shortly before the Civil War, however, a group of southern women bought up the property and restored the legacy Washington, himself, seemed to want to bury. 

Jefferson, deeply in debt, had no such luxury available to him. In fact, he did not actually own his slaves, his creditors did. They were sold along with all his possessions when he died. While he saw the contradiction between his immortal words and his life, his inability to resolve that contradiction seems, unlike Washington, to have entrenched his Southern Plantation Owner identity. Even Monticello became a picture of that contradiction: dark-skinned slaves were hidden from the view of visitors; light-skinned slaves, many related to the Jefferson family, populated the mansion. Jefferson became convinced that a bi- or multi-racial society was impossible (despite the fact that he lived it day after day in his own home). Back of the napkin calculations for removing the African Americans to Africa or even much farther West revealed the hopelessness of that remedy. If the most enlightened mind of the early 19th century could not discover a way out of the contradiction, many believed it must, therefore, be a truly impossible situation. 

Ellis does a beautiful job telling the story of the great contradictions at the heart of the American Experiment from the inside. We are left time and again wishing History could have proceeded in a different manner, yet time and again coming up against the hard wall of reality. While a few missed opportunities existed, the obstacles to living up to our ideals so early in The Experiment prove insurmountable. If the most educated and enlightened minds, those most familiar with the contingencies of their times, could not see a way through, we fool ourselves if we believe we could have done better. Ellis is both condemnatory and sympathetic. We, two and half centuries later, as least have the consolation of knowing that The Cause continued to inspire Americans to fight for the realization of our Founding principles. We continue to fight for them today. 

Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton

I've been wanting to read 
Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton for a long tine. A wonderful friend found it at a used bookstore and picked up a copy for me! What a delight!

It's set in the 1870s as New York is undergoing significant social and economic changes. Wharton follows the life of young Newland Archer, who is marrying into the top of the food chain. At the same time as he becomes engaged, an exotic cousin of his fiancee returns to America following a failed marriage to a Polish count. To make her feel welcomed and to give her the social acceptance of highly ranked families, his engagement to May is quickly made public. 

From this point forward, Newland finds himself in the role of cousin Ellen's protector. As can be assumed, Newland finds himself drawn to the unconventional ways and thinking she represents. He begins to see his upcoming marriage to May as a trap to conventionality and duty. Ellen, herself, recognizes and returns his feelings, but she always puts May first and encourages Newland to keep his promise and fulfill his duty.

For all May's portrayal as innocent and naive, she seems to be constantly one step ahead of Newland and his attempts to change the trajectory of his life. May, with a shocking amount of plausible deniability, will get her man. 

Although Wharton, herself, seems to have lived the life of cousin Ellen and eschewed traditional strictures, she seems to land the book with a defense of the traditional and the requirements of duty. Newland and May experience a long and happy marriage. Finally given a chance to reunite with Ellen after May's death, Newland recognizes that his feeling were probably always a fantasy built up in his mind. He loves the version of the life he could have had with Ellen more than Ellen. And his life with May was actually quite sweet and fulfilling.

The book ends with the next generation and the changes that were predicted have begun to occur. Newland's type of life and the responsibility he felt to uphold the traditions are quickly fading into the background. Although his children will not be burdened by the expectations he experienced, we get a sense that maybe something is being lost. 

It's a beautiful book that explores some timeless themes. I love that it lands (mostly) on the sanctity of duty and tradition. As a conservative, I believe we have inherited wisdom in our traditions that may not be obvious to subsequent generations. Certainly Newland chafed against them. But in the end, he was happy with the life handed to him. Wharton leaves us little evidence that had he abandoned his responsibilities and expectations to live a life with Ellen he would have found the happiness he assumed awaited him. Even Ellen seems to recognize this when she asks him in what country would that happiness be found. Being far more experienced, traveled, and cosmopolitan than he, she knows of what she speaks. More often than not, I believe doing the "right" thing is what will bring ultimate happiness.