Women in Henry James & Edith Wharton

Portraits of Henry James - d. 2/28/1916

Henry James - Anniversary of death Feb. 28, 1916

On Reading Henry James: Collected Travel Writings:

The Continent: A Little Tour in Frace / Italian Hours / Other Travels. Ed. Richard Howard. (Library of America)

Henry James' travel writings on France and Italy are a case study in fine arts perception, understanding and interpretation. He treats each new locale as a new horizon to be engaged, absorbed, and internalized through a hermeneutic of analogical interiority. Roaming within the halls and chambers of French and Italian architecture opens, through the text, new conduits for an understanding of the vast interiority that exists within the self-examining-self. James is a master at relating the space of each location with the thoughts, instincts, relational perceptions and education of the observer.

Reading these texts is like engaging each site oneself and discussing with a learned and trusted friend about what one is experiencing, not just what one is seeing. The art work of Joseph Pennell is an amazing addition to these works and masterpieces on their own. Do yourself a favor and buy this book. It will be a cherished addition to your collection and a book you will pick-up time and again to walk with the "Master" through France and Italy as you discuss, reflect and remember literary events that where home to these marvels. If you happen to be planning a trip to either France or Italy, take this along to add a level of historical and cultural depth to your experience. Some of what you will read has disappeared into history, but what remains is a beautiful historical and cultural continuity with Henry James as your guide.

Some Exteriors Noted by Henry James in France:

Promethean Pain

Prometheus Unbound, by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Prometheus' opening monologue.

Ah me! alas, pain, pain ever, for ever!

No change, no pause, no hope! Yet I endure.
I ask the Earth, have not the mountains felt?
I ask yon Heaven, the all-beholding Sun,
Has it not seen? The Sea, in storm or calm,
Heaven's ever-changing Shadow, spread below,
Have its deaf waves not heard my agony?
Ah me! alas, pain, pain ever, for ever!

Prometheus' liver about to be eaten by a vulture brought by Hermes (Mercury) by Zeus (Jupiter) - a cruel cycle that, according to Hesiod, is repeated daily after his liver has regenerated. Art by Gustave Moreau.

Comforter, where, where is your comforting?

No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief,
More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring.
Comforter, where, where is your comforting?
Mary, mother of us, where is your relief?
My cries heave, herds-long; huddle in a main, a chief
Woe, world-sorrow; on an age-old anvil wince and sing --
Then lull, then leave off. Fury had shrieked 'No ling-
ering! Let me be fell: force I must be brief'.

O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall
Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap
May who ne'er hung there. Nor does long our small
Durances deal with that steep or deep. Here! creep,
Wretch, under a comfort serves in a whirlwind: all
Life death does end and each day dies with sleep.

Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J.

Li Qingzhao (Yi’an Jushi)

Sheng Sheng Man

To search, searching.
To seek, seeking.
Cold, clear, sorrow, pain.
Cold, clear sorrow, pain.
Hot flashes – sudden chills.
Stabbing pain – slow agonies.
No serenity can I find. I drink
Two cups, then three bowls, of tasteless wine,
Until I can’t stand against fierce wind.
Wild geese fly overhead. They break my heart,
These friends of mine from olden days.

Gold chrysanthemums spread
Across the ground, piled, faded, dead.
I could not bear to pick them this season.
In stillness, alone at my window,
I watch the gathering shadows.
Gentle rain sprinkles through the wu-t’ung trees
And drips, drop by drop through the dusk.
What can I ever do now?
How can I drive away this word
– Hopelessness?

Trans. by M. Dale


Li Quingzhao (1084-1151?), called herself Yian Jushi, from Jiana, Shandong. She is considered China’s greatest woman poet. Her father Li Gefei was a high official as well as a man of letters. Her husband, Zhao Mingcheng, was a governor of Huzhou, Zheijang , author of Jinshi Lu (Epigraphic Records) in 30 volumes. With their aristocratic background, her family nevertheless prided themselves on a life of simplicity, with a focus on things literary and contemplative. This life, however, was interrupted by the invasion of the Jin (Golden Tartars) in 1127. Her family was forced to abandon their home and valuable collection of books, seals, bronzes, manuscripts, calligraphy and paintings. In 1129, when Li was forty-six, her husband in rout to his new official post became ill and died before Li could come to him. The remainder of her life was spent in flight (saving as much of her family collections as possible) from the Jin as they forced the Song out of North China.
“Slow Measured Sound” – In this poem, Li gives voice to her passionate grief over the loss of her husband. One of the best loved Ci-poems of the Song Dynasty. The recurrence of certain sounds/words in the beginning lines was considered the poet’s unique creation. It was thought that wild geese can carry messages.