This month we will be reading The Bostonians by Henry James.
Please share your comments and questions in this thread.
The book is available for free at Project Gutenberg:
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/sear...the+bostonians
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This month we will be reading The Bostonians by Henry James.
Please share your comments and questions in this thread.
The book is available for free at Project Gutenberg:
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/sear...the+bostonians
A few chapters in and the reading seems easy - for Henry James. What Maisie knew was just as easy whereas The Ambassadors, for instance, was still hard going almost half-way through the book, while Washington Square was simply pedestrian until...
Olive Chancellor - the honest, seething, young spinster - is fascinating.
I will probably start by Friday or so.
I am glad you are enjoying it so far, Gladys :)
Olive Chancellor is beginning to remind me of young Emma with her naive protégé, Hariette, in Jane Austen's novel by that name. I disliked Emma and that novel, despite loving two previous Austen novels. But Olive is hardly Emma in other respects.
The urbane Basil Ransom, conservative and a little combative, remains problematic for me.
Problematic in what why? I am just curious to know, do you mean it is problematic in your ability to like him? Or formulate an opinion of him, or do you find his character difficult to believe within the story?
I was not quite sure what to make of the scene with Varena, I was never quite clear if she was intended to just be a public speaker, or if in fact she was actually meant to be a some kind of channel/medium, as the moments leading up to the speech with her farther putting her into an almost hypnotic state, and her initial incoherent mumbling, as well as the others vague discretion of her speeches as being "inspired" it seemed almost as if she was intended to be invoking some other spiritual power to speak through her. She was also called "gifted" I did not know if this referred to her having some supernatural power, or if she was just meant to be a really talented speaker.
She was also I believe at one point referred to as a mountebank.
Yes to both. I don't know what to make of Basil Ransom yet.
It was only after much experience he made the discovery that few Northerners were, in their secret soul, so energetic as he.
I get the faint impression he's heartless.
What to make of Verena? Does the following help?
The girl herself would have been the most interested person in the world if she had not been the most resigned; she took all that was given her and was grateful, and missed nothing that was withheld; she was the most extraordinary mixture of eagerness and docility. Mrs. Tarrant theorised about temperaments and she loved her daughter; but she was only vaguely aware of the fact that she had at her side the sweetest flower of character (as one might say) that had ever bloomed on earth.
For me at least thus far Ransom is one of those characters of whom while I might not agree with (and maybe not get along with if I knew them personally) but cannot help but to amuse me in some way. I like his character, though I don't know if I would like him much as a person, there is something I find appealing about him. I like the sort of contradictory element he adds, if that makes much sense. But the way in which he is set against his cousin in their differing view points, and his nature being opposing to her own. He makes things interesting.
As I read further the book offered more of an explanation about the channeling business, and her role during the gathering. As it seems her further is in fact meant to be an actual spiritual medium while her mother's family are inclined toward being inspirational speakers, so it seems that Verena is a mix of the two. Her father likes to put on a show, and Verena inherited an ability for gifted speaking from her mother's side of the family.
I have only read Book 1/Chapter 4 yet so haven't met Verena but so far I find Basil quite interesting. Like DM said, he may not be someone I might agree with on every single issue but there seems to be some kind of entertaining quality about him. He seems very laid back and able to look at things with humour.
Does anyone else suspect that Olive may have feelings/intentions towards Verena that go beyond just friendship?
Olive Chancellor admits to jealousy in that she would wish, against her better judgement, to keep Verena from young males - and suitors in particular. That is hardly surprising. We are told Olive considers Verena a perfect complement to herself: she has the intellect and passion, Verena the oratory and surpassing grace.
There is something stifling in Jane Austen's Emma, and even more so in Olive, the suffragette. But Olive is righteous! As I wrote on another thread, the opening paragraph of the novel has widowed sister Adeline saying of Olive Chancellor:
...she wouldn't for the world expose herself to telling a fib. She is very honest, is Olive Chancellor; she is full of rectitude.
In reading this book I cannot help but think of the "Boston Marriages" as they were called which were quite common around this time. In which it would be socially accepted that young women would live together (though with the expectation only until they found a man to marry) but in many cases the women in these arrangements had no interest in men and marriage and formed romantic partisanships with each other.
I also recall (if I remember correctly) that early on in the book Olive is described as someone whom was meant to be a spinster, she was seen as someone who would never marry. And there was also the comment about Ransom, when he questioned why Olive invited him if she was not going to like him and she said she asked him to come for Mrs. Luna.
I find Olive's attachment to Verena to be quite distributing at times, in fact there were moments in which Olive does seem almost stalker like it was particularly disinteresting when Olive expressed her desire to isolate Verena from her parents (as well as her friends) and control her Verana should associate with, and mold her into Olive's ideal of what/who Verena should be. These are things that today would be considered as red flags in a relationship.
Emma was over involved in her good natured desire to help her friend, but Olive comes off as kind of cookoo to me. It would be a bit annoying to have a friend like Emma, but it would be a little frightening to have a friend like Olive.
Do you think the names signify anything?
I remember from the only other James novella I read - Daisy Miller - that James did pick them carefully.
I wondered about the names too. Particularly Basil Ransom, Mrs. Birdseye and Mrs. Luna struck out in my mind, as they all are both rather unusual sounding names, and of course they are also names that have other meanings.
Out of curiosity, I checked the names of characters in the dozen, or so, Henry James' novels and novellas I've read. My impression is that names are chosen to accurately reflect the status - the social standing - of each character's family. By contrast, in the plays of Henrik Ibsen, names often code for much, much more.
Almost halfway through the novel, everything seems to have followed a more or less predictable course. But Verena is becoming increasingly interesting. I wonder how will ultimately Olive react.
In Daisy Miller, if I remember correctly, the names reflected more than status. For example, Winterbourne had that cold, reserved attitude. However, Daisy's surname, Miller, did reflect her status (a common family who came into money through their trade).
I find the relationtionship between Olive and Verena interesting and somewhat suspicious - at least where Olive is concerned. I feel she is not honest and open even with herself. If Verena looked different (say, like Olive herself) would she have reacted in the same way?
Basil remains to be my favourite character in the book so far and Mrs Luna. I am only onto Ch. 15 yet but I am secretly hoping that those two end up together somehow.
I know, ever the romantic me!
Verena:
According to tradition, Saint Verena joined the Theban Legion in its mission to Rhaetia (part of modern day Switzerland) and was a relative of Saint Victor of the Theban Legion. The soldiers' relatives were allowed to accompany them in order to look after them and take care of their wounds.
When Saint Maurice, Saint Victor and the other members of the Theban Legion were martyred, Saint Verena led the life of a hermit. First, she settled in a place called Solothurn, but later moved into a cave near present-day Zurich. she comes from Garagous village, Qous, Qena, Egypt. As a hermit, Verena fasted and prayed continuously. According to tradition, she performed several miracles. Verena was particularly concerned over young girls and used to look after them spiritually and physically, due to her expertise as a nurse.
As a result of her fame, legend states that the local governor arrested her and sent her to jail, where Saint Maurice appeared to her to console and strengthen her. She was released from jail, and continued to perform miracles. Due to her, many converted to Christianity. Saint Verena was interested in serving the poor and used to offer them food. Moreover, she enjoyed serving the sick, especially those suffering from leprosy. She used to wash their wounds and put ointments on them, not fearing infection. She died at Switzerland.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Verena
Having read the novella long ago, I do not remember Winterbourne as especially cold. But I do appreciate the irony in his name after reading this Wiki quote (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daisy_Miller):
The names of the characters are also symbolic. Daisy is a flower in full bloom, without inhibitions and in the springtime of her life. Daisy contrasts sharply with Winterbourne. Flowers die in winter and this is precisely what happens to Daisy, after catching the Roman Fever. As an objective analogue to this psychological reality, Daisy catches the very real Roman fever, the malaria that was endemic to many Roman neighborhoods in the 19th century. The issue on which the novella turns is the "innocence" of Daisy.
I believe Olive's interest in Verena is overtly driven by the expected impact of her beauty, personality and eloquence on the suffragette cause. For Olive, Verena's a means to a sacred end. Where's the dishonesty here?
As for St Verena, we shall see! :aureola:
Hi everyone! I've started reading this and I'm in chapter nine, I think. It's OK so far. Still waiting for it to really draw me in.
Hi Mona, and welcome. I'm up to Chapter 31 and enjoying the book, but these comments relate to Chapter 24 and earlier.
Verena is remarkable indeed. So remarkable that she will present an unexpected threat to both Olive and Basil, who so wish to manipulate her?Quote:
...but Verena never changed colour; it was either not new or not disagreeable to her that the authors of her being should be bought off, silenced by money, treated as the troublesome of the lower orders are treated when they are not locked up; so that her friend had a perception, after this, that it would probably be impossible in any way ever to offend her. She was too rancourless, too detached from conventional standards, too free from private self-reference. It was too much to say of her that she forgave injuries, since she was not conscious of them; there was in forgiveness a certain arrogance of which she was incapable, and her bright mildness glided over the many traps that life sets for our consistency.
In her critique of Verena Tarrant, Adeline Luna, as always exaggerates; but the forecast of high-order tantrums from Olive is surely prophetic. Yet how will these tantrums be reconciled with: She is very honest, is Olive Chancellor; she is full of rectitude?Quote:
Adeline guessed Olive had perfect control of her now, unless indeed she used the expeditions to Cambridge as a cover for meeting gentlemen. She was an artful little minx, and cared as much for the rights of women as she did for the Panama Canal; the only right of a woman she wanted was to climb up on top of something, where the men could look at her. She would stay with Olive as long as it served her purpose, because Olive, with her great respectability, could push her, and counteract the effect of her low relations, to say nothing of paying all her expenses and taking her the tour of Europe. "But, mark my words," said Mrs. Luna, "she will give Olive the greatest cut she has ever had in her life. She will run off with some lion-tamer; she will marry a circus-man!" And Mrs. Luna added that it would serve Olive Chancellor right. But she would take it hard; look out for tantrums then!
Also prophetic are venerable Miss Birdseye's parting words to Basil Ransom. A marvellous understatement I suspect.
Quote:
And while, lifting and pushing, he was helping again to insert her into the oblong receptacle, she turned a little and repeated, "She will affect you! If that's to be your secret, I will keep it," Ransom heard her subjoin.
I think it was DM who mentioned earlier the possibility of some romantic infatuation on Olive's behalf and I agree with that as well; that is what I meant when I said Olive was not being entirely honest with herself. She does seem to want Verena for their "cause" but I still think (started Ch 25) there is an attachment that goes beyond camaraderie.
Despite having past the half-way spot in the book, I feel we still don't know much about Verena. She seems to be saying and doing the "right things" all the time and Mrs Luna is probably right in her assessment of her (as quoted by Olive). She is bound to cause some kind of disappointment sooner or later.
Enjoying the book though it is a more challenging book than I expected.
As quoted by Olive? Do you mean: as narrated?
By chapter 32, we have learnt rather more about Verena without taint to her sublimity. I sense she is much deeper than she seems. But I have no good reason to accuse Olive of carnal attraction to Verena.
As for The Bostonians being challenging book, I am finding it easy reading compared to most Henry James novels. Try The Ambassadors if you seek a real challenge. The novellas tend to be easier.
As for Mrs Luna tying the knot with Basil Ransom, forget it!
Certainly Olive's infatuation is romantic.
But why assume that Olive's romance pertains to a sensual feelings for Verena? More likely, Olive is swooning with a romantic notion that she will blossom as the beneficent patron of the suffragette movement's young Joan of Arc. Hence her recurring jealousy when she fears Verena might escape her patronage. Olive Chancellor is at times a little embarrassed by this self-indulgent romantic infatuation but, repressing her selfish leanings, she strives to act righteously. The movement is her life.
Meant to say ".... as quoted by Gladys" actually... But seems like I have Olive in mind (no, not an infatuation).
No, not carnal but utterly romantic... I am not sure Olive would be capable of "carnal" feelings or, rather, admitting and accepting those. She's one of the most interesting characters I have read in a long while. What a brilliant job, James does while depicting her with quick, succinct descriptions.Quote:
By chapter 32, we have learnt rather more about Verena without taint to her sublimity. I sense she is much deeper than she seems. But I have no good reason to accuse Olive of carnal attraction to Verena.
I did not say it was a challenging book but that it turned out to be more challenging than I had expected. I thought it would be a story similar to Age of Innocence but I am pleasantly surprised.Quote:
As for The Bostonians being challenging book, I am finding it easy reading compared to most Henry James novels. Try The Ambassadors if you seek a real challenge. The novellas tend to be easier.
By Chapter 36, Verena has become just as interesting, as indeed has the novel as a whole. The Henry James' novel Washington Square (named after an affluent locality in New York, where Olive Chancellor walks to calm her nerves concerning Verena's future) also becomes suddenly interesting, well past the novel's half-way mark.
And I do love the dry and direct Dr. Mary J. Prance.
I'm thrilled you're still reading, Scheherazade. The last forum book club I joined - reading Walter Scott's Rob Roy, full of Scottish dialect - left me the lone reader. :smilewinkgrin:
I'm approaching the end of the book and to say I'm engrossed is an understatement. This is some novel, and I'm zealously struggling to imagine the ending. For those seeking a love story, the courting of Verena by Basil Ransom, and her delightful acquiescence, should satisfy the most demanding of tastes.
Without spoiling the plot, here are a few observations.
She would make any sacrifice for affection.
Verena speaking of her mother. Like mother, like daughter?
"Miss Birdseye said you would convert me, but you haven't yet," it came into his head to say. "You can't tell yet; wait a little. My influence is peculiar; it sometimes comes out a long time afterwards!"
Verena the prophet?
...as they walked it came over her that some of the things he had said to her were far beyond what Olive could have imagined as the very worst possible.
Verena seems incapable of taking offence - strange though it seems.
It was plain Doctor Prance didn't go into that kind of analysis. If Ransom had complained to her of a sore throat she would have inquired with precision about his symptoms; but she was incapable of asking him any question with a social bearing.
The seriously unflappable Dr Prance.
her mortal remains were to be committed to their rest in the little cemetery at Marmion, in sight of the pretty sea-view she loved to gaze at, among old mossy headstones of mariners and fisher-folk. She had seen the place when she first came down, when she was able to drive out a little, and she had said she thought it must be pleasant to lie there. It was not an injunction, a definite request; it had not occurred to Miss Birdseye, at the end of her days, to take an exacting line or to make, for the first time in eighty years, a personal claim.
A superb encapsulation of the life of Miss Birdseye.
I found the book riveting reading, especially the last hundred pages. The ending is fascinating. Mrs Luna's early foreshadowing seems, on first sight, to get the basic facts of the ending more or less right:
[Verena] was an artful little minx, and cared as much for the rights of women as she did for the Panama Canal... She would stay with Olive as long as it served her purpose, because Olive, with her great respectability, could push her, and counteract the effect of her low relations, to say nothing of paying all her expenses and taking her the tour of Europe. "But, mark my words," said Mrs. Luna, "she will give Olive the greatest cut she has ever had in her life. She will run off with some lion-tamer; she will marry a circus-man!" And Mrs. Luna added that it would serve Olive Chancellor right. But she would take it hard; look out for tantrums then!
But a longer reflection on the ending suggests something rather different. Verena's main concern, even once committed to Basil Ransom, definitely appears to be the lapsing of her feminist address to the Boston audience. She gives this up, for the same reason she does most things: [she] would make any sacrifice for affection, and Ransom offers this in abundance. The dying Miss Birdseye appeals to Verena in a similar way to Ransom and, I suspect, to similar effect!
The novel ends with the hooded Verena walking with Ransom into the street, in tears. I think she's crying over a newly found passion for the suffragette cause, ignited by the dying Miss Birdseye. That Verena is destined to shed many more tears is surely a vindication of Miss Birdseye's prophesies:
Of course he [Ransom] took it now, and even held it a moment; he didn't like being dismissed, and was thinking of pretexts to linger. "Miss Birdseye said you would convert me, but you haven't yet," it came into his head to say. "You can't tell yet; wait a little. My influence is peculiar; it sometimes comes out a long time afterwards!" This speech, on Verena's part, was evidently perfunctory, and the grandeur of her self-reference jocular; she was much more serious when she went on quickly, "Do you mean to say Miss Birdseye promised you that?"
And the charismatic octogenarian dying sentiment says it all:
You mustn't think there's no progress because you don't see it all right off; that's what I wanted to say. It isn't till you have gone a long way that you can feel what's been done.
Ransom (the primary subject of the novel) will succumb, in time. A sublime ending.
This post may contain **SPOILERS**
Finished reading a while back and thought I'd already posted this and then discovered I'd only saved it somewhere. :blush: I liked it very much, though I'm not sure I should have given it five stars, a rating I reserve only for the very best books. I was so carried away by the complete rout of Olive at the end, LOL. It was the ending I was really hoping for, and I was so scared that Verena would turn out to be a perverse wretch like Isabel Archer and go back to Olive, but what a resounding victory for Basil! :hurray:
On second thoughts, I wonder if it is really fair for a male writer to vent his feelings about suffragettes in this way - he's such a good writer he makes everything so convincing! :D
Gladys, your comments were very interesting. I'm not so sure that Ransom will succumb in the end. Henry James hardly gives us any hints about what will happen after the novel has ended. It was the same with Portrait of a Lady. I really couldn't imagine Isabel Archer's future course, after I closed the book.
The tears I took to be the tears any woman would shed even in a normal marriage, though it is probably just the author perversely denying his female protagonists any happiness in life. There's a disagreeable streak in James, and despite his genius he will never be among my favourites.
I did enjoy this book very much though - 7/10
Henry James invariably produces novels for which minority interpretations of the ending are more than defensible. The Portrait of a Lady is a case in point, as you may see from my entirely sympathetic reading of Isabel Archer: An infinite hope that she should never do anything wrong. :smile5:
There is many a hint given by Henry James as to the aftermath of the ending. For instance, while the urbane Basil Ransom seems the winner, James (with his usual understatement) has painted Ransom as a decidedly unpleasant character, perhaps as unpleasant as any in a James' novel. Ransom preys on the obvious vulnerability of the highly suggestible Verena (consider her father's sorcery) and he treats everyone else as means to an end. I doubt that the charismatic Verena Tarrant ever had much love for Ransom, or for Olive Chancellor, but for better or for worse she will faithfully carry out Miss Birdseye (inspired, deathbed) prophesy to the letter, in the course of time. And that will be Basil Ransom's terrible punishment!
Henry James, in my opinion, is all about irony, and especially so in his endings. I wonder whether James, born to a wealthy New York family, and a homosexual, does have the bias against women you suggest. I would certainly struggle to accept that the London-based author has the least sympathy for our energetic young man from the deep South with a world-view appropriate to the dark ages and a moral compass to match.
I much liked the novel.
I did not find Ransom an unpleasant character at all. He is, quite probably, someone I would not agree with on my issues but I do not think that he expresses his views any less agreeably than the others in the book, inclusing Olive and Verena.
I am not a romantic but I give their love more credit. I don't think Basil will succumb because he truly believes in his views and, I feel, James also thinks he is a necessary opposition in the mechanism. However, theirs will not be a peaceful home because their political views; there will be heated debates and exchanges.
I have to say I actually liked Basil and was rooting for him all the time, and can easily imagine why Verena fell in love with him. Like Scher I feel they were both genuinely in love with each other. He might be a bit overbearing, but his views were not overly reactionary for his time and only seem so in contrast to the radical feminism of the female characters. Also, he's no hypocrite - He's very open about his opinions, his opinion of Verena's opinions, and his lack of money.
His male chauvinism does not bother me so much because Olive comes across as a man-hater rather than a feminist, or rather, a woman who is interested in feminism not because of passionate conviction but because she hates men. I was also not convinced that Verena had any true longlasting passion for the cause, beyond a youthful enthusiam stoked in her by others, and a way to showcase her gift for public speaking. It is this gift that Basil will have to deal with in the future. Will it cause her suffering to give it up, or will she be accepting of the supression and turn to other things?
Neither of the women is like Miss Birdseye, the stalwart soldier labouring for the cause, and Basil ultimately respects her and feels perfect friendliness for her and for Mary Prance, a doctor and a genuinely 'liberated' woman.
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EDIT: I found this movie on youtube and will be watching it sometime - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I4L-qel7AQs
So Ransom seems throughout: eminently likeable. Indeed, the most distasteful characters in many a James novel only seem so after considerable reflection on the ending. The best example is beautiful and stunningly sublime Kate Croy in On the wings of the Dove. Kate seems peerlessly wonderful until one chooses to reflects, with no help from James, on her relation to others. Henry James is good at decoying the reader to the very end.
Olive, by contrast, seems grimly miserable but, as Mrs Luna says, honest Olive is full of rectitude.
If you are right, why are there so many passages like these below?
...so that her friend [Olive] had a perception, after this, that it would probably be impossible in any way ever to offend her [Verena]. She was too rancourless, too detached from conventional standards, too free from private self-reference. It was too much to say of her that she forgave injuries [Ramson's is the deepest], since she was not conscious of them; there was in forgiveness a certain arrogance of which she was incapable, and her bright mildness glided over the many traps that life sets for our consistency.
------
And while, lifting and pushing, he was helping again to insert her [Verena] into the oblong receptacle, she turned a little and repeated, "She will affect you! If that's to be your secret, I will keep it," Ransom heard her subjoin.
------
She [Mrs Tarrant] would make any sacrifice for affection." The fancy suddenly struck Ransom of asking, in response to this, "And you? would you make any?" Verena gave him a bright natural stare. "Any sacrifice for affection?" She thought a moment, and then she said: "I don't think I have a right to say, because I have never been asked. I don't remember ever to have had to make a sacrifice—not an important one."
------
...and as they walked it came over her [Olive] that some of the things he [Ransom] had said to her were far beyond what Olive could have imagined as the very worst possible.
------
What was a part of her essence was the extraordinary generosity with which she could expose herself, give herself away, turn herself inside out, for the satisfaction of a person who made demands of her.
------
What will become of your charm?—is that what you want to know? It will be about five thousand times greater than it is now; that's what will become of it. We shall find plenty of room for your facility; it will lubricate our whole existence. Believe me, Miss Tarrant, these things will take care of themselves.
------
The emotion she [Verena] had expressed as he stood there before poor Miss Birdseye was only one of her instinctive contortions; he had taken due note of that—said to himself that a good many more would probably occur before she would be quiet.
------
"I shall see nothing but shame and ruin!" Olive shrieked...
Nevertheless, Verena will eventually vindicate both Olive and Miss Birdseye. In view of these quotes and ones previously supplied, the affect of the ever-so-subtle demands made on the infinitely suggestible Verena by the dying Miss Birdseye is critical to appreciating the ending.
Verena indeed has little passion for the cause per se, as Mrs Luna rightly forecasts. She will be accepting of the suppression and will turn to her genuine vocation, as imputed by Miss Birdseye, on her deathbed. And the married Basil Ransom will prove just as impotent in derailing the passionate and charismatic Verena as Olive Chancellor! That's some ending, I think - a much better one than a simple love story with a more or less happy ending. The energetic Ransom gets more, much more, than he bargained for.
...the words he [Ransom] had spoken to her [Verena] there about her genuine vocation, as distinguished from the hollow and factitious ideal with which her family and her association with Olive Chancellor had saddled her—these words, the most effective and penetrating he had uttered, had sunk into her soul and worked and fermented there. She had come at last to believe them, and that was the alteration, the transformation. They had kindled a light in which she saw herself afresh and, strange to say, liked herself better than in the old exaggerated glamour of the lecture-lamps.
I have just understood the blatant foreshadowing by Mrs Luna, early in the novel. Ransom is the lion tamer, who energetically tames both Olive and Verena by the end of the novel. But as Olive has well learned, the taming of gifted Verena is problematic in the extreme.
"But, mark my words," said Mrs. Luna, "she [Verena] will give Olive the greatest cut she has ever had in her life. She will run off with some lion-tamer; she will marry a circus-man!"
In The Bostonians, the wedded Verena will ultimately give the central character, the circus-man Basil Ransom, the greatest cut of all!
Basil Ransom's emotions were peculiar while his hostess delivered herself, in a manner at once casual and emphatic, of these rather insidious remarks.
I think James is a realistic writer rather than a romantic one, but in this case the ending with Verena and Basil succumbing to each other seems to be the realistic ending. However, he does show us Verena in tears and tells us they will not be her last, in order to remind us that his ending is not a romantic one with Basil carrying off Verena into the glorious sunset. The young couple will have quite a lot of settling down to do. Imagine what a contrast Basil's shabby rooms will be for Verena compared to Olive's beautiful house, for instance, and Basil will have to pull up his socks and start becoming more successful, now that he's a married man. A lot of hardship lies ahead, but I'm sure they'll settle down in the end and have a reasonably happy life.
As for the quotes, my interpretation is quite different -
"...so that her friend [Olive] had a perception, after this, that it would probably be impossible in any way ever to offend her [Verena]. She was too rancourless, too detached from conventional standards, too free from private self-reference. It was too much to say of her that she forgave injuries [Ramson's is the deepest], since she was not conscious of them; there was in forgiveness a certain arrogance of which she was incapable, and her bright mildness glided over the many traps that life sets for our consistency.
Doesn't Verena's 'bright mildness' show that she is the one who will be submissive, and Basil dominant?
"Any sacrifice for affection?" She thought a moment, and then she said: "I don't think I have a right to say, because I have never been asked. I don't remember ever to have had to make a sacrifice—not an important one."
At that point in her life she had not been called to make any sacrifice, but by the end she'll have to sacrifice her career out of love for Basil, and of course this is complicated by the fact that anything she does out of love for Basil will go directly against Olive, for whom she also has affection.
"She will affect you! If that's to be your secret, I will keep it," Ransom heard her subjoin
Ms Birdseye was right in a way, as even Basil acknowledges. She affected him so much that he fell in love with her almost from the first time he saw her. But she doesn't seem to realise that you can be 'affected' by someone's character and personality without being in the least affected by their opinions. She also underestimated Basil's own effect on Verena, and failed to even imagine that Verena might actually be the convert rather than the converter.
"...and as they walked it came over her that some of the things he [Ransom] had said to her were far beyond what Olive could have imagined as the very worst possible."
"I shall see nothing but shame and ruin!" Olive shrieked...
Well yes...poor Olive is to completely lose this battle of wills.
What was a part of her essence was the extraordinary generosity with which she could expose herself, give herself away, turn herself inside out, for the satisfaction of a person who made demands of her.
Everyone makes demands of Verena - her parents, Olive, and Basil, and in the end she gives in to Basil's demands because they are most in accordance with her own wishes.
The emotion she [Verena] had expressed as he stood there before poor Miss Birdseye was only one of her instinctive contortions; he had taken due note of that—said to himself that a good many more would probably occur before she would be quiet.
Here Basil understands something of Verena's conflict, although he is not in sympathy with it. But he's very confident of his ultimate triumph.
What will become of your charm?—is that what you want to know? It will be about five thousand times greater than it is now; that's what will become of it. We shall find plenty of room for your facility; it will lubricate our whole existence. Believe me, Miss Tarrant, these things will take care of themselves.
Basil does not want to trample upon her or stifle her, which is a relief, since he very much has the upper hand in their relationship.
...the words he [Ransom] had spoken to her [Verena] there about her genuine vocation, as distinguished from the hollow and factitious ideal with which her family and her association with Olive Chancellor had saddled her—these words, the most effective and penetrating he had uttered, had sunk into her soul and worked and fermented there. She had come at last to believe them, and that was the alteration, the transformation. They had kindled a light in which she saw herself afresh and, strange to say, liked herself better than in the old exaggerated glamour of the lecture-lamps.
But what do you feel is her genuine vocation? On reading that chapter again I think it's pretty clear that Basil means that her genuine vocation is to take care of home and family and be very beloved by him.
The massively understated sentence that ends the novel is typical of many a James’ book. If you want the ironic ending Henry James really intends, consider as entirely accurate the foreshadowing presented here:
"All what, Miss Tarrant?" Ransom asked.
"Well, what I told her [Miss Birdseye]. She is sure you are going to become one of our leaders, that you are very gifted for treating great questions and acting on masses of people, that you will become quite enthusiastic about our uprising, and that when you go up to the top as one of our champions it will all have been through me."
Ransom stood there, smiling at her…
Your interpretation is entirely accurate insofar as it reflects the viewpoint of Basil Ransom and Olive Chancellor who, from the first, are like open windows for the reader. Yes, Basil and Olive interpret the situation exactly as you describe.
In reality, Verena will convert Basil through her bright mildness. She'll have to sacrifice her career out of love for Basil, but not Miss Birdseye's final vision for her. What little insight the dying Miss Birdseye actually has matters little alongside the huge impact on Verena. Olive does lose this battle of wills, as will Basil later on. Everyone makes demands of Verena, not least Miss Birdseye, and Verena willingly complies. Basil is as confident of his ultimate triumph as cousin Olive was, before him. He looks forward to marital bliss and, while this may happen, the Southerner will also fulfil Miss Birdseye's feminist vision.
What you seem to miss is that never, never, does Henry James allow us direct access to the viewpoint of Verena. We, like Olive and Basil, are left to infer the viewpoint of this exquisitely passionate and sincere...quivering, spotless, consecrated maiden. Appreciating the differing perspectives of the main characters is always the challenge in reading Henry James.
"Miss Birdseye said you would convert me, but you haven't yet," it came into his head to say.
"You can't tell yet; wait a little. My influence is peculiar; it sometimes comes out a long time afterwards!" This speech, on Verena's part, was evidently perfunctory, and the grandeur of her self-reference jocular; she was much more serious when she went on quickly, "Do you mean to say Miss Birdseye promised you that?"
"Oh yes. Talk about influence! you should have seen the influence I obtained over her."
"Well, what good will it do, if I'm going to tell Olive about your visit?"
"Well, you see, I think she hopes you won't. She believes you are going to convert me privately—so that I shall blaze forth, suddenly, out of the darkness of Mississippi, as a first-class proselyte: very effective and dramatic." [here is massive foreshadowing of the ending from the mouth of the saintly octogenarian]
Verena struck Basil Ransom as constantly simple, but there were moments when her candour seemed to him preternatural. "If I thought that would be the effect, I might make an exception," she remarked, speaking as if such a result were, after all, possible.
Verena's genuine vocation initially related to married life with Ransom. Nevertheless, the evangelical aspect of her vocation flowers in full glory following the death-bed prophesy of Miss Birdseye. Verena Tarrant will do father Selah, that one-time miracle monger, proud. Her Southerner husband, the man who liked to understand, will one day stand in the vanguard of the women's movement! If only Olive Chancellor could see that miraculous day!
As Verena says to Olive:
"Do you leave it all to me? You don't give me much help," Olive said.
"Help to what?"
"Help to help you."
"I don't want any help; I am quite strong enough!" Verena cried gaily. The next moment she inquired, in an appeal half comical, half touching, "My dear colleague, why do you make me say such conceited things?"
The married Ransom will face the same awesome artillery that, in the end, muzzled Olive, his cousin:
Olive had contributed with all her zeal to the development of Verena's gift; but I scarcely venture to think now, what she may have said to herself, in the secrecy of deep meditation, about the consequences of cultivating an abundant eloquence. Did she say that Verena was attempting to smother her now in her own phrases? Did she view with dismay the fatal effect of trying to have an answer for everything?
The Bostonians is a racy novel with all the appeal of a who-dun-it to be solved by the reader well after finishing. I loved it. The big question is: What are we to make of Verena Tarrant? Olive Chancellor and Basil Ransom seriously underestimate her. Even the canny Mrs Luna gets her wrong. Paradoxically, the two who get closest are the seemingly senile Miss Birdseye and the mesmerist father, whom Olive has bought off.
[Selah Tarrant] looked at his child only from the point of view of the service she might render to humanity. To keep her ideal pointing in the right direction, to guide and animate her moral life—this was a duty more imperative for a parent so closely identified with revelations and panaceas than seeing that she formed profitable worldly connexions.
Henry James withholds explicit information on the perspective of Verena: that rancourless young woman, detached from conventional standards, free from private self-reference, the sweetest flower of character (as one might say) that had ever bloomed on earth. One indication of Verena's viewpoint arises from her compliance with the wishes of others. The magnetic Selah Tarrant ensures her cooperation through expansive spiritual conjuring, the ardent Olive Chancellor through positing Verena at the pinnacle of the women's movement, and the debonair Basil Ransom through extolling the genuine vocation that is sacred matrimony.
It’s perhaps easy to miss that the short, aged, unassuming Miss Birdseye also makes a comparable claim on Verena, a claim which happens to mesh perfectly with Ransom’s genuine vocation, and her feminist upbringing. The angelic octogenarian's dying behest sees Verena converting Ransom, the energetic arch-conservative from the South, to serve as a splendid standard bearer for the women’s movement. That’s some vision for Verena’s future: a glorious vision presented with sublime fervour by a dying saint.
If you doubt this interpretation, consider those whose wishes have no impact on the extraordinary generosity of Verena. At the Music Hall, Verena is deaf to harangue of her own loving mother and her business manager, Mr. Filer. Earlier, she is utterly dismissive of that enlightened and cultivated gentleman, Henry Burrage, who tastefully declines to impose on her the least vision, and she is dismissive of Henry’s elegant, rich and well-meaning mother. Verena herself consistently maintains: I have renounced.
"I don't want any help; I am quite strong enough!" Verena cried gaily. The next moment she inquired, in an appeal half comical, half touching, "My dear colleague [Olive], why do you make me say such conceited things?"
In New York, Verena reveals that her performance doesn't really depend on Olive, any more than she really needed her father to start her up. It's a small jump to say that the wedded Verena, a child of the women's movement, will perform without anyone's help, and certainly without Basil Ransom's.
Moreover, I don't believe that at bottom they are Miss Tarrant's opinions," Ransom added.
"You mustn't think she hasn't a strong hold of them," his companion [Miss Birdseye] exclaimed, more briskly. "If you think she is not sincere, you are very much mistaken. Those views are just her life."
"Well, she may bring me round to them," said Ransom, smiling.
Preparing for the Music Hall, Olive arms Verena to the hilt, just as Verena has begged of her. But Olive fails to grasp the peculiar nature of Verena's life-long dedication to the women’s cause. Olive sells short the girl who pulls hard. And so does Basil as he whisks his alluring Trojan Horse away from the Music Hall!
...the dreadful, ominous, fatal part of the situation was simply that now, for the first time in all the history of their sacred friendship, Verena was not sincere. She was not sincere when she told her [Olive] that she wanted to be helped against Mr. Ransom—when she exhorted her, that way, to keep everything that was salutary and fortifying before her eyes.
Poor Olive is so wrong: gifted Verena's great calling is not on the grand stage but in the home of that implacable enemy of the women's movement.
If Basil considered women superficial, it was a pity he couldn't see what Olive's standard of preparation was, or be present at their rehearsals, in the evening, in their little parlour.
Verena's tears, as she flees the Music Hall for married life, flow from the important sacrifice she makes for affection. It’s not so much her affection for Basil as her affection for Miss Birdseye and her transcendent vision. She presents to Verena a genuine vocation in the fight for the cause to which she has dedicated her life. The unflappable Selah Tarrant will be proud of his red-haired daughter.
[Basil] presently discovered that, beneath her hood, she [Verena] was in tears.
I absolutely agree with you that this book just gets better every time you go back to it to look up something. I've been re-reading whole chapters just for the discussion, which I'm enjoying very much, even though my replies are not so frequent.
I feel Verena is central to the novel because her choice is what matters in the end, not Basil's, not Olive's, not her parents', and not (I am convinced) even Miss Birdseye's. All the others exploit her in one way or the other, thrusting a role on her which, with Basil's help, she comes to realize is one that she does not want to play. They exploit her and demand sacrifices out of her which for a while she willingly gives, until she's rescued by Basil. It's all very ironic because the one who preaches to her about freedom of women tries to tie her down and control her as much as she possibly can, while the reactionary Basil is the one who sets her free to pursue her true vocation.
Miss Birdseye is not portrayed as senile, but she too does not entirely escape the anti-feminist narrative bias. She is a noble-hearted, kind, good natured dupe, whom anyone can take advantage of.
which is why I have trouble accepting that her over-optimistic expectations of Basil are in any way visionary. It is her good natured simplemindedness that casts a spell on everyone from the reactionary Basil to the practical Mary Prance, but they show their affection by pretending to agree with her so as not to cause her distress, rather than changing themselves to fit her vision of them.Quote:
It was a mere sketch of a smile, a kind of installment, or payment on account; it seemed to say that she would smile more if she had time, but that you could see, without this, that she was gentle and easy to beguile...[cut]... She belonged to the Short-Skirts League, as a matter of course; for she belonged to any and every league that had been founded for almost any purpose whatever. This did not prevent her being a confused, entangled, inconsequent, discursive old woman, whose charity began at home and ended nowhere, whose credulity kept pace with it, and who knew less about her fellow-creatures, if possible, after fifty years of humanitary zeal, than on the day she had gone into the field to testify against the iniquity of most arrangements. (Chapter 4)
Verena is different. Young, impressionable and tender-hearted as she is, Miss Birdseye's death affects her deeply and sparks in her a crisis of conscience and achieves what Olive with all her fighting spirit is unable to. Verena gives Basil the slip. His victory is not to be so easily won after all, but he does triumph in the end.
I too appreciate your input, and entirely agree with your assessment of Miss Birdseye. She is only visionary in the sense that her unlikely but sublime idea rejuvenates the independent-minded Verena, and serves to foreshadows the eventual direction of the Basil and Verena's marriage. Incidentally, one reason Olive allowed Verena to see young men was the possibility of conversion to the cause (visits from handsome and unscrupulous young men for the sake of the opportunities it gave one to convert them): and that's exactly what will happen to the energetic Southerner.
But I would not agree that anyone succeeds in exploiting Verena, least of all the cousins, Olive and Basil. Verena perceives attempts at exploitation as an inconsequential component of her mere experiments in how to live morally better.
Even the development of her "gift" had not made her think herself too precious for mere experiments; she had neither a particle of diffidence nor a particle of vanity.
-------
"She doesn't want a piano—she doesn't want anything," Selah remarked
How could anyone exploit a girl with such a character?
I suspect you seriously underestimate Verena’s independence and powerful internal drive. Verena, the brilliant young womapulls hard, is neither a muddle-head nor a dupe. There is a wealth of evidence that freedom of women is uppermost in her mind throughout the novel, despite the many who assert otherwise. They simply don't appreciate this singular and unassuming girl, who was raised by her father (“He is very good”) with a keen sense for what service she might render to humanity. Her true vocation owes far more to her egalitarian upbringing (reinforced by Miss Birdseye's naive dream) than to Olive's grandiose scheme or Basil's self-interested bulldozing. Olive does serve to provide Verena a fine (though unwitting) service in arming her to perform a feminist miracle on her husband to be.
With the Boston crowd growing restless in the Music Hall, her father Selah, with a boundless confidence in his daughter, gropingly prefigures the ultimate ending. His curious final utterance is perhaps the last direct foreshadowing of the ending Henry James really intends. Selah's Tarrant's declaration is fine instance of why I read Henry James. The irony of the narrator is exquisite:
Mrs. Tarrant had burst into violent hysterics, while Selah revolved vaguely about the room and declared that it seemed as if the better day was going to be put off for quite a while.
Typically, Henry James plants the key to understanding his stories well before the final chapter. This is spectacularly so in the delightful What Maisie Knew, where the ending is even more subtle. Selah Tarrant's off-the-cuff declaration happens to corresponds perfectly with Verena's words to Ramsom early in the novel:
"You can't tell yet; wait a little. My influence is peculiar; it sometimes comes out a long time afterwards!"
I don't think Verena, with her extraordinary powers of reflexion is impressionable in the least! She is a brilliant and thoroughly independent thinker, immune to intellectual bullying from anyone:
She answered all her friend's questions with a good-nature which evidently took no pains to make things plausible, an effort to oblige, not to please; but, after all, she could give very little account of herself.
I don't want any help; I am quite strong enough!
Later, after the holiday at Marmion, we see that inspirational Verena has become more than a match for Olive. Will Basil fare better?
Miss Birdseye's dying vision, in fact, propels Verena (with unwitting Olive's help) into frantic preparation for her improbably ambitious mission to convert Basil. Verena hesitates no longer; she commits herself whatever the cost. After the death, Verena gives Basil the slip because she needs more time to prepare for this formidable mission she will face in wedlock. The risk and consequences of failure are extreme.
Basil's appearance at the Music Hall is not unexpected because Verena has been preparing for him. His "triumph at the Music Hall" will prove short-lived, for the delightful maiden he drags into his castle is a Trojan Horse. The narrator and Verena are agreed that the social views of the Mississippian are abhorrent, and there nothing to suggest Verena has a change of heart. The narrator is hardly suggesting a love story when he ends with: the union, so far from brilliant, into which she [Verena] was about to enter.
I [Verena] am faint and weak at all the horrible things you [Ransom] have said; I have lunched on abominations.
In the end it will be Verena, and the Women's Movement, that triumph gloriously.
"Oh yes—I want to give my life!" she [Verena] exclaimed, with a vibrating voice; and then she added gravely, "I want to do something great!"