Edith Wharton and art, pt. 1
by Nandia Foteini Vlachou
Recently, due to poor eyesight, I discovered the pleasure (and relief) of audiobooks. As someone who reads (and reads and reads), it was so distressing not to be able to. But, through LibriVox, and its amazing volunteers, I have discovered a whole new way to get to literature. It is imperative, of course, to find one voice that suits one’s taste, but I’ve been incredibly lucky in discovering David Clarke’s impeccable reading of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock canon, and Nicholas Clifford’s readings of Henry James and Edith Wharton.
The latter, especially, gave me the opportunity to discover the short stories of Edith Wharton, one of my favorite authors, in two volumes, The Descent of Man, and Other Stories (1904) and Tales of Men and Ghosts (1910). I never fancied myself as one who appreciates the short story as a literary form, but I was surprised to find out that I did, and that I enjoyed Wharton’s short stories as much as her novels (Summer, Ethan Frome, The House of Mirth and The Age of Innocence rank among the novels I most cherish). The Tales of Men and Ghosts even includes two masterful ghost stories, The Eyes and Afterward (which I strongly recommend to fans of the genre). Her stories are always evocative and ambiguous, leaving ample space for interpretation, many times with enigmatic endings. But another aspect of them that I enjoyed (as I do with James’s writing as well), were the frequent allusions to art and art objects. This is why I am devoting two posts to The Reckoning and The Quicksand, both from The Descent of Man, and Other Stories.
In The Reckoning (1902), a bitter tale of marriage and divorce, there is only a fleeting mention to painting, a deprecating reference to contemporary art – and to the profession of painters as little more than an excuse for sociable interactions. I always find the impressions of writers precious, as they denote a particular form of reception, expressed through their literary sensibility, and they frequently allow a vivid image, not only of their personal tastes and distastes, but also of those of their contemporaries.
So, without further delay, the passage from The Reckoning goes as follows: “The Herbert Van Siderens were a couple who subsisted, socially, on the fact that they had a studio. Van Sideren’s pictures were chiefly valuable as accessories to the mise en scene which differentiated his wife’s ‘afternoons’ from the blighting functions held in long New York drawing-rooms, and permitted her to offer their friends whiskey-and-soda instead of tea. Mrs. Van Sideren, for her part, was skilled in making the most of the kind of atmosphere which a lay-figure and an easel create; and if at times she found the illusion hard to maintain, and lost courage to the extent of almost wishing that Herbert could paint, she promptly overcame such moments of weakness by calling in some fresh talent, some extraneous re-enforcement of the ‘artistic’ impression. It was in quest of such aid that she had seized on Westall, coaxing him, somewhat to his wife’s surprise, into a flattered participation in her fraud. It was vaguely felt, in the Van Sideren circle, that all the audacities were artistic, and that a teacher who pronounced marriage immoral was somehow as distinguished as a painter who depicted purple grass and a green sky. The Van Sideren set were tired of the conventional color-scheme in art and conduct.”

Henri-Edmond Cross, Pines Along the Shore, 1896, oil on canvas, 54 x 65.4 cm, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
The ‘purple grass’ and ‘green sky’ reminded me of neo-impressionist (yes, these interminable sub-categories of modernist art…) painters, such as Henri-Edmond Cross and, although a bit later, Henri Matisse’s fauvist canvases, which may provide an apt illustration of the kind of painting that Edith Wharton had in mind.

Henri Matisse, Olive Trees at Collioure, summer 1906 (?), oil on canvas, 44.5 x 55.2 cm, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Henri Matisse, The Riverbank, 1907, oil on canvas, 73.2 x 60.3 cm, Kunstmuseum Basel

Henri Matisse, Moroccan Landscape, 1912, oil on canvas, 115 x 80 cm, Moderna Museet, Stockholm
I only know two of her works, ‘The House of Mirth’, and ‘The Age of Innocence’, but agree that the writing is wonderful. I also enjoyed the film adaptations, with Gillian Anderson as Lily Bart, and Daniel Day-Lewis as Newland Archer.
The paintings you chose to illustrate the purple grass were perfect too.
As for short stories, I do enjoy them, and this is obvious from my own efforts to write them.
Best wishes, Pete.
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I loved both movies! And thought them excellent adaptations. To be more exact, it was through the movies that I first discovered her writing (after watching The Age of Innocence, when it came out, ages ago). I have noticed your preference for non-serialized narrative, but I was wondering if that wasn’t due to the blog format. I am only getting familiar with the form now!
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I read short stories as a youngster, alongside conventional novels and non-fiction. I still like both, but find short stories more suitable for Kindle/Electronic reading.
Sorry to hear about your eyes. I have Glaucoma, and the start of cataracts, but manage to read/type with +3 reading glasses at the moment.
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Hi Nandia. I can see your Facebook share button on this post, with 22 shares noted. Have you solved the problem now?
Best wishes, Pete.
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I haven’t done anything, and I still cannot see anything! Can you see the shares on this post as well? https://iknowwhereimgoing.wordpress.com/2015/08/02/josefa-de-obidos-delectable-details/ It’s so odd! (thank you for your continuing efforts, Pete).
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Hi Nandia. I have had no update emails about my Help request for your Facebook ‘problem’. I don’t know if you still cannot see the buttons yourself, or if it has fixed itself? I have had a good look through all the ‘Publicize’ links again, and cannot see any way to de-activate the button from appearing to the administrator.
This is the only time I have not been contacted by WordPress after a reuquest, so I am wondering if they fixed it remotely, or contacted you directly. I can still see it on this (and other) post.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Hello Pete, and thank you for checking. I have also been checking, and seen no reply – and no fix of the problem either! Strange, isn’t it, that they haven’t replied? In any case, thank you for keeping a vigilant eye on the case!
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I will put up a post next week, asking fellow bloggers for advice. See if any of those tech gurus out there can explain it!
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In fact, I see no reason to wait, so I will do that now.
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https://beetleypete.wordpress.com/2017/01/21/an-appeal-for-blogging-help/
You can check on my post to see if anyone can help.
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I am the farthest thing from a computer expert, but I have one idea. When you go to the Dashboard and then hit Posts, Start new one… when it comes up, look on the right-hand side of the screen – is wordpress asking you to update your FB status?
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Dear GP Cox, haven’t tried it, but I will. Does it mean that you have to have your FB account linked to your wordpress account? I never did! I actually have ‘platforms off’ because I don’t like the idea of FB directly accessing anything, so when I want to post something there, I use the old-and-tried trick of copying and pasting the link.
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I have the share button for FB, but that’s it. I’ve never copied and pasted for FB. So, like I said – I’m no computer whiz!!! 🙂 Just thought it might help.
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