Showing posts with label Class Distinctions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Class Distinctions. Show all posts

Monday, June 29, 2026

A Maid For Murder (The Sinclair Mysteries) by Bethany Swafford; Ongoing Mystery Makes and Mars Historical Mystery


 A Maid For Murder (The Sinclair Mysteries) by Bethany Swafford; Ongoing Mystery Makes and Mars Historical Mystery 

By Julie Sara Porter 

Bookworm Reviews 


Spoilers: It's rare when a mystery series relies entirely on an ongoing mystery that travels from volume to volume. It's different but it can also cause problems while reading. That is the situation found in Bethany Swafford’s Sinclair Mysteries and its second volume, A Maid For Murder.

In the previous volume, The Secret of Burnham House, the brother of Juliet Sinclair, a former lady of standing, was found dead under mysterious circumstances. Her investigation in London offers a lead in Bath.

This volume tells of Juliet's adventures in Bath where she creates the identity of Julie Nelson, a lady's maid to the haughty Miss Dunbar. Juliet's investigation is complicated by Miss Dunbar’s unstable demeanor, her lecherous brother, a former suitor of Juliet's who is definitely in the wrong place at the wrong time, a woman with a connection to Juliet's late brother, and a blackmailer.

The ongoing mystery is both a benefit to the book by making it a unique murder mystery and a drawback to the narrative structure of this volume and the series as a whole.

The ongoing mystery provides much wider stakes than the usual crimes of passion or killing someone for an inheritance or insurance payout that are found in stand alone mystery novels. 

Once the reader becomes used to the idea that anyone could be involved, they become aware how long and how tangled this network really is. In theory, it could go as high as the governing offices. 

This overarching plot leads to genuine moments of suspense as Juliet puts herself in jeopardy while in Bath. Anyone knowing her real name could be an enemy or at the very least could blow her cover. She is held captive or put under suspicion by people who normally would just be among the Dunbar’s frequent callers but often cast wary glances at the familiar looking lady's maid who bears a striking resemblance to a certain London lady who suffered a family tragedy.

Another asset is that it makes the novel more realistic. Sometimes a mystery can't be solved in a short time frame. Sometimes it takes longer. Some may not be solved at all. If the murder occurred in higher offices, it takes a lot more than pluck and determination of one person to bring it down. Sometimes it takes another authority.

Also Swafford chose an interesting protagonist to explore this network. Juliet is the usual scrappy, feisty, opinionated, bright observant amateur detective that this type of book usually calls for. 

It's also fascinating as this volume requires Juliet to work as a lady's maid. She sees first hand the abuse, demands, and constant repetitive tasks that maids have to do, responsibilities she probably never had to think about.

 She also sees how employers treat servants like they are invisible only there to serve needs, agree with orders, and absolutely never have an opinion of their own. It's dehumanizing but at the same time it gives Juliet an advantage so she can observe and listen to leads and clues without being spotted.

Some of the best passages in the book are Juliet’s moments with the Dunbar Siblings who are to say the least pieces of work. Miss Dunbar is a spoiled shrill unstable harridan that Juliet is barely biting back insults and the urge to fight back. Her brother is a lecherous cad and potential rapist who thinks that any woman is his for the taking. 

Many of Juliet's best moments are when she outsmarts and outplays the Dunbars and especially when she is finally put in a situation where she can really let them have it.

However, there are some serious drawbacks to an ongoing murder that lasts through the series and it shows here. The mystery can never be solved in one volume so readers are left trying to figure out the details that threaten to become more convoluted as the series continues. Also, it's intensely frustrating as potential leads and clues slip out from Juliet's grasp which makes one question her detective skills if she can't solve the mystery in one volume.

Then there is a question about the series longevity. How long does Swafford intend to stretch this central mystery? It could only last for so long before the books become repetitive. It's possible that once this central mystery is solved, then another one will begin in subsequent volumes but that removes the potential uniqueness of the series.

Another issue is while earlier I praised the book for its realism in extending the main plot, is realism really what people are going for when they read historical mysteries?

From my experience, no. Mostly we want fantasy. We like empowerment. We want the plucky protagonist who is ahead of her time to face the bad guys and win, especially when it's in the name of a loved one. Is it realistic? No not always but it's comforting. That's why we return to this genre and keep coming back. We want to know that the killer is identified and justice is always met. If it's not true in real life then maybe it can be in fiction.






Tuesday, September 24, 2019

Classics Corner: Daisy Miller and Washington Square by Henry James; Two Very Different Female Protagonists Reveal Henry James’ Gift of Capturing the Female Psyche






Classics Corner: Daisy Miller and Washington Square by Henry James; Two Very Different Female Protagonists Reveal Henry James’ Gift of Capturing the Female Psyche

By Julie Sara Porter

Bookworm Reviews

Spoilers: In a previous review of A Turn of the Screw, I wrote about Henry James’ interest in the psychology of his characters.

This is particularly felt in his female characters. Even though he was a male author, he had no problem plowing through the depths of the female mind and how women felt about their roles in society and their individuality. In most of his works, the female characters are the most interesting such as the Narrator of A Turn of the Screw, Wings of the Dove’s Kate Croy, and Portrait of a Lady’s Isabel Archer (my favorite James book which will be reviewed on a future date.).

Two of his most prominent female characters are also in two of his shortest works: Daisy Miller, the protagonist of the novella of the same name and Washington Square’s Catherine Sloper. These two women couldn't be more different in terms of appearance, thoughts, actions, and their relationships. However, in their different ways, they both question and challenge their roles as women and maintain their individuality in a society that frowns on that individuality, especially from a woman.

Daisy Miller is a pretty American flirt taking the obligatory “Grand Tour” of Europe with her mother and brother. In Switzerland, Daisy meets Winterbourne, an American student.
Winterbourne is captivated by Daisy’s beauty and free spirit. She doesn't mind going to sites without an escort (even though it's forbidden for young ladies of her stature) or making statements that would be considered impertinent. When Winterbourne says that he is afraid to introduce Daisy to his domineering aunt, she taunts him. “You shouldn't be afraid. I am not afraid.”

Daisy captivates Winterbourne because she is rebellious, even though she is masquerading as a typical single young woman of her status. She appears to be no different than any other young woman of her age. At one point Winterbourne's aunt confuses her with the other women at the hotel they are staying in. Winterbourne however detects there is something different about her. She doesn't hide behind the etiquette rules of courtship and outright tells Winterbourne how she feels about him.
When Winterbourne tells her that he might go to Rome to visit his aunt in the winter and if he has time he may see her, Daisy says “I don't want you to come for your aunt. I want you to come for me.”

Daisy knows what the courtship rules and rituals are supposed to be. She is supposed to visit relatives, act demure and docile, and wait for her man to show. But by outright telling Winterbourne what she has in mind, she shifts the balance of power during a courtship in her direction.

Daisy's name plays into her character. A daisy is a spring flower and like the season, Daisy Miller is a breath of fresh air and represents new life, new experiences, and new ways of doing and thinking. However, Winterbourne's name suggests the opposite. He is winter, cold, and reliant on old ways and traditions. While winter turns into spring, the two are never together and James’ novella says the same about its two protagonists.

Daisy and Winterbourne's incompatibility reaches its head when they are in Rome. Winterbourne's conservative outlook towards men and women clashes with Daisy's more liberal free spirited ways. He does not approve of her familiarity with an Italian man, Giovanelli and constantly asks if the two are engaged. At one point, he tells her that he doesn't want her to speak to Giovanelli, Daisy sarcastically says “Do you think I mean to use signs?” She is puzzled why this American man feels that he has to have power over her. He keeps warning her to stay away from Italian men because they may take her flirtations the wrong way.

However, he is less concerned about her virtue than he is about his ownership over her.
He is jealous of her flirtations with other men and thinks that Daisy should behave like a respectable woman of her day.

The irony is that Winterbourne himself doesn't exactly have a stellar reputation for fidelity. At the beginning of the novella, his mind is on an unnamed foreign lady. Then at the end after his relationship with Daisy comes to an end, his mind is on another foreign lady. Winterbourne is a product of his time. He lives in a world where the rules are made by men and to enforce women to follow them. Rules that men don't necessarily follow themselves.

Daisy is someone who is so youthful and brings the promise of spring, that winter and age are not on her mind. She behaves very recklessly and puts her health at risk when she accompanies Giovanelli at the Coliseum at night, despite the warning of yellow fever. After she and Giovanelli are caught at the landmark by Winterbourne, she succumbs to the illness and dies.

This trip could be considered a thinly veiled metaphor for a sexual encounter. Daisy had been repeatedly warned not to be alone with Giovanelli so when she succumbs to temptation, she pays for her encounter with her chastity and her life. (Perhaps the yellow fever is a metaphor for syphilis). However, Giovanelli is never seen as predatory and the people that warn her such as Winterbourne and his aunt are filled with the snobbery and hypocrisy of their day. (Remember, Winterbourne's foreign ladies?) Giovanelli even clears Daisy's name posthumously by saying that they were never engaged and that she was completely innocent. So if it was a warning against young ladies having sexual encounters with foreign men, why does it include this curious detail of Daisy's innocence?

There are some hints that Daisy's death is a result of the patriarchal society that surrounds her. She is looked upon as a “Madonna-Whore” by the male characters, particularly Winterbourne. In Geneva, he sees her in purely virginal terms as a young harmless innocent who is all whites and yellows and girlish charm. He defends her from his aunt by saying that her actions are harmless and that she is merely a flirt.

In Rome however, Winterbourne is constantly suspicious of her behavior. All of the traits that he once loved about her, such as her outgoing nature and blunt speech, are now sources of irritation when they are given towards other men. Instead he sees her as someone treacherous who is inviting trouble. Winterbourne doesn't believe Daisy when she says that she and Giovanelli were not engaged, until Giovanelli confirms it until after her death. In Winterbourne's eyes, Daisy corrupted the image he had of her, so she is guilty until proven innocent.

James himself meant the story to be a character study of the young American heiresses that he saw while in Europe who took the Grand Tour to see the sites and to marry a man of title and fortune. This was the era of American heiresses becoming titled ladies such as Winston Churchill's mother, Jennie. Many of these women experienced a wider world than they had seen before, but were required to set the standards for the American women at home. This experience of Americans abroad interested James and was a common theme in his works. He was fascinated by American tourist's insecurities of being from a young nation as compared to these Old World Aristocrats. The Americans in James’ works often struggled to compete with the Europeans and tried to behave according to their standards, even creating tighter standards of their own. In their drive to overcompensate, the American characters lose their authenticity and mannerisms that made them so unique in the first place.

Daisy is authenticity personified. She isn't afraid to be herself, a young flirtatious vibrant spring-like person. She lives for the present only for the moment. She is similar to a mythical character like Persephone who represent a promise of spring, youth, adventure, and rebellion. Unfortunately, youth cannot last forever and the young rebel grows into the older rule maker. For Daisy, that moment never comes.

It is unknown what Daisy may have been like had she settled into marriage and lived to an older age. Maybe she would be like Winterbourne's aunt, a snob looking down on the younger generation of women. Maybe she would be a scandalous figure with multiple marriages trying to recapture her lost youth. She never gets to that age. Instead, she burns out and dies young. Daisy Miller is unable to accept the compromise that comes with age. She cannot play by rules that tell her that she can't speak in a friendly manner to a man without suspicion or that she cannot go to monuments by herself or with her love interest. Instead of accepting the role that she has been given since birth and entering the winter of age, she remains spring-like and youthful forever by dying young.

Daisy concedes defeat the only way that she can and remain true and authentic to herself. She dies young.

Washington Square presents a different character and setting from Daisy Miller but also asks the same questions about the role of women in society. Catherine Sloper is the polar opposite of Daisy in many ways: plain where Daisy is beautiful, shy where Daisy is outgoing. Even the setting favors the internal claustrophobia of swank New York studies and parlor rooms rather than the exterior of old world European castles and monuments. However, Daisy and Catherine both are surrounded by the expectations placed on wealthy 19th century American women and in some ways that still surround women today. Both Daisy and Catherine also have their own ways of questioning and fighting against those expectations.

Catherine Sloper lives in a world that is devoid of emotion and is in favor of reason. She is dominated by her widowed physician father who takes pride in having an analytic mathematical mind. He boasts that he can take “a man's measure” by observation. He can guess the type of person by observing and analyzing their appearance and behavior, like an even scarier Sherlock Holmes.

Sloper is able to fully control and dominate his daughter by using his icy logical analysis.
He controls where Catherine goes, who she associates with, and makes clear that he has the final say in who she marries.

Standing on the opposing side of Dr. Sloper is Aunt Lavinia Penniman, Sloper's widowed younger sister. Romantic where Sloper is Reason, Warm where her brother is cold, Aunt Lavinia tries to steer her niece towards a more sociable nature, but her father commands that she must train the girl to be clever. (“You are good for nothing unless you are clever.”)

Using his measuring, Sloper reasons that Catherine is not beautiful, that goodness makes her insipid, so she might as well be smart. While Sloper's motivations to make Catherine learned and intelligent seems progressive for the day, he only sees Catherine as an object of his making and she can only go from one extreme (very beautiful, outgoing, and good) to another. (very plain, intelligent, and socially awkward). When Catherine reaches 18, Sloper is disappointed that Catherine isn't clever enough and that she doesn't seemingly fit the mold he built for her. He verbally abuses his daughter and considers her ugly and stupid.

Despite this, Catherine's aunts try to help her. Catherine's Aunt Marian Almond throws a party for her daughter's engagement and Aunt Penniman accompanies Catherine. The two meet Morris Townsend, a man-about-town who is handsome, but unemployable and living off of his sister and her family.
Morris and Catherine fall in love and begin courting to Dr. Sloper's chagrin. He bases his information on Aunt Almond's knowledge of Morris and his own observations of the man during interviews. He believes that Morris is a fortune hunter who has only one thing on his mind during his courtship: Catherine's money.

Catherine ends up caught between the two men. Morris demands that she stands up to her father and wait for him. Sloper tells her that he does not approve of her engagement and even threatens to cut her off if she marries him. He is so insistent that Catherine not marry Morris that he alters his will so that Catherine will not inherit money from him should she marry Morris. (He can't do anything about her mother's inheritance, however. That's still hers.)

Morris and Sloper's differing views clash when during an interview Sloper says that Morris belongs to the wrong category. Morris, however, insists that Catherine does not marry a category, she marries an individual. Sloper's intellectual reasoning sorts and categorizes everything and Morris has to remind him that human beings are not like that. They are individuals who contain multitudes and he and Catherine cannot be sorted.

Like he did with the characters in Daisy Miller, Henry James had fun with names. Instead of seasons, Washington Square uses mathematical and urban terms for description. The Sloper's family name is from an algebraic equation.The title Washington Square has a double meaning. Besides being a prominent area in New York City that was the height of wealth and sophistication at the time, the name “Square” is a geometric shape. Catherine and Sloper live in a world of mathematics, measuring and counting the world to fit the doctor's view.

Morris's name is a contrast to the Sloper's mathematically precise world of facts, figures, and sorting. His last name Townsend, reveals him to be a man-about-town and all of the social obligations that come with that role of attending parties and befriending the wealthy elite, a world that Sloper deprives her from. The second half of Morris's name “-end” suggests an end to Catherine's current life and either the decline of her relationship with her fiancé or her father.

Both Sloper and Morris want to own Catherine. Sloper manipulates Catherine's courtship in ways that are in his favor. He orders Morris's sister not to let him marry Catherine. He takes Catherine to Europe solely with the intention of making her forget about Morris. His hold on Catherine is not out of concern for her welfare or that Morris will break her heart. It is out of a selfish obsessive need to control her and to prove himself right.

Like Sloper, Morris has a desire to own and possess Catherine but uses different means. He writes passionate letters to Catherine extolling his love. He tries to convince her to be more sociable and surrender to him.Like Sloper, Morris, too, manipulates a relative. He makes arrangements with Catherine's Aunt Penniman to meet Catherine at her house.

While Morris is more emotional than the intellectual Sloper, he is no less domineering to his fiancée. He constantly insults and gives Catherine ultimatums forcing her to choose between him and her father.
Even Aunt Penniman has her own stake in this. She subtly encourages the romance to continue as if to experience it vicariously. She allows them to meet at her apartment and when Catherine is terrified of her father, Aunt Penniman suggests that she lay in bed and fake an illness to appeal to his sentimental nature. Her romantic nature seems to be inspired by the literature of the time and she tries to shape Catherine and Morris into the romantic couple of her dreams who are torn apart by cruelty but elope and live happily ever after.
Sloper, Morris, and Aunt Penniman see in Catherine what they want to see: an obedient daughter, a loving fiancée, or a passionate romantic. They don't see her for a full woman.

The irony is that Catherine does not hate any of them, especially Sloper and Morris. She does not risk upsetting her father nor ending her engagement. The expectations that others have bestowed upon her have starved her for affection. She willingly submits herself to their control rather than lose them. When they force her to submit to them, she cannot make up her mind because she doesn't want to lose the people whom she believes loves her, but in reality want to own her.

Sloper is right that Catherine and Morris's engagement does not work out but not solely for the reasons that he believes. When Morris learns that Catherine will not inherit her father's money, he breaks things with her. However, his decision is made easier by Catherine's indecision. The indecision is caused by the intense pressure Sloper puts on her. In preventing his daughter's marriage to someone he deemed unsuitable, Sloper becomes part of the reason that the engagement ends.

Sloper's control over Catherine works all too well. The end of her engagement becomes the end of Catherine's emotional outlook. She becomes a creature without emotion, one solely of intellect and reason. She becomes every bit the mathematical analyst that her father was. She becomes Daddy's girl.

Catherine learns the lessons from her father so well that when he suggests that she get married to other men, she refuses. Her heart is not only broken by her failed engagement. It is shattered beyond repair. Sloper feels his age and wants to have a grandchild to inherit and create a legacy. However, Catherine will not allow this, so she refuses to marry or have children.
Sloper squashed Catherine's emotions. Now he has to live with what he has created and knows that his family line will die with him and Catherine.

Catherine's lack of emotion continues long after her father's death when she inherits his money. She is a serious, analytical woman deprived of any feminine institutions. She refuses to play the game of courtship. Even when an older Morris proposes to her again, she flatly turns him down. She knows that her love for him or for anyone else has died.

However, Catherine still has regret and sadness over what her life has become, shown by the final moment when she holds onto her needlework as “if for dear life.” She knows what she has become, but she can't change. She is unable to change.

Instead of dying young, Catherine rebels against the institutions of marriage and primogeniture by aging into permanent singlehood. In claiming her own independence from the people who want her to become the Catherine that they want, Catherine chooses not to marry at all. Her independence is at the expense of emotional connections and she claims it by living in solitude and regret.

Daisy Miller and Washington Square gives us two women who use different means to rebel against the rules of courtship and family. One plays the game, but concedes defeat by dying young. One enters the game, but ultimately chooses not to play at all.

Sunday, March 31, 2019

Women's History Month Classics Corner: The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton; Edith Wharton's Savage and Sharp Exposure of Gilded Age New York



Women’s History Month Classics Corner: The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton; Edith Wharton's Savage and Sharp Exposure of Gilded Age New York

By Julie Sara Porter 

Bookworm Reviews




Spoilers: Sometimes a writer has to live within the world they write about to really understand it. They give the Readers an Inside Outsider's Perspective because they know that world and how the people within it think and operate. No one understood that concept more than Edith Wharton (1862-1937). The world that she lived in and wrote about was late 19th-early 20th century Upperclass New York society, the Gilded Age.

Similar to F. Scott Fitzgerald, a later author who also wrote about elite New Yorkers, Wharton viewed the behaviors of the people around her with a detachment, cynicism, and irony that showed outsiders that all was not pleasant inside these palatial homes, designer dresses, expensive jewelry, and marriages of wealth and convenience. This was a place that Wharton knew all too well.


Wharton was born Edith Newbold Jones, the last of three children, to George Frederic Jones and Lucretia Stevens Rhinelander, a well-to-do New York City couple. (Reportedly her father's family was so well known for their affluence, that they actually inspired the phrase “keeping up with the Joneses.”) Her family traveled a great deal so Wharton studied many languages and read voraciously. (Though her mother forbade her from reading novels until she was an adult.)

Wharton's relationship with her parents was fractured. Her father was frequently away from the house and Edith almost never saw him. Her mother was critical especially when she started writing. An anecdote displaying her mother's cold nature is told: Edith presented her first novel to her mother when she was eleven. When she read a description in which the main character had to tidy up a drawing room before a guest's arrival, Mom simply said “Drawing rooms are always tidy” and returned the book to her. Dismayed, Edith wrote poetry until she was 15 and had her first work published, a translation of a German poem. Instead of bursting with pride, Edith's mother wanted her daughter's name removed considering a career as an author unsuitable for a girl of Edith's standards.


While Wharton was climbing towards a literary career, she had her debutante season. She married Edward “Teddy” Robbins Wharton, a Boston socialite in 1885. While he was from the same class, the marriage was extremely unhappy. Teddy was bipolar and was prone to rages, jealous tirades, and spending and behaving recklessly. When Teddy was at his worst in 1908, Wharton began an affair with Morton Fullerton, a journalist who was her intellectual equal. Teddy worsened until his disorder was declared incurable and Wharton divorced him in 1913.

Wharton traveled extensively and after her divorce settled in France. When WWI broke out, she became involved in relief efforts and was ultimately awarded the Legion D'Honneur.

Wharton was a prolific writer writing 85 short stories, 11 non-fiction books mostly on her travels, several poems, and 18 novels (Her first novel published when she was 40.) In 1921, she won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction for her book The Age of Innocence, becoming the first women to do so. Two years later, Willa Cather would replicate that feat with her book One of Ours.

Many of Wharton's novels feature rich characters in fancy homes and outsiders trying to find their way inside that rich life with the swells trying to keep them out. The Custom of the Country features a woman scheming her way into advantageous marriages and leaving a few bodies in her wake. Another novel, The Buccaneers concerns a group of American wealthy women who marry English aristocrats so the guys can get their fortune and the girls can get titles. (Think of it as Downton Abbey: The Early Years). Her Pulitzer winning novel The Age of Innocence explores an American upperclassman's scandalous romance with a countess who has been exiled from New York society because of her divorce. Then there's my favorite of Wharton's novels, her first, The House of Mirth. All of them feature characters who scheme, plot, bicker, and would gladly sell their mothers, children, and souls for a chance at the high life.

The House of Mirth is about a character like that: Lily Bart, a young woman who dreams of a life in high society but her attempts ultimately bring about her decline and self-destruction. It's interesting that I am reading The House of Mirth at the same time that I am reading Middlemarch and contrasting how different the protagonists are over money and their status as women. Dorothea Brooke maybe from a wealthy family but she is rebelling from it towards a life of meaning and service. Lily Bart longs to retreat into the life that she was reared for. Lily longs to be what Dorothea fought against: a decorative set piece for a rich man to marry. The House of Mirth is almost Middlemarch if Rosamond Vincy were the main character, albeit a more interesting multi-faceted Rosamond Vincy but still she and Lily Bart would have a lot in common.

Lily is the type of woman who was brought up for only two purposes: be beautiful and marry wealth. She has been aware of this fact ever since she was a child and saw her father lose his wealth partly because of her mother's frivolous spending. She hardly ever saw her father because he worked to get their fortune back and her mother was cold and unemotional (shades of Wharton's own upbringing). After her parent's deaths, she ended up in the care of a wealthy aunt, Julia Peniston who financially supports Lily but the two don't care to be around each other.

Lily is constantly aware that her life is one where she is held under scrutiny and her every movement is judged. Even when she sees a male friend alone in his hotel room, she has to invent a lie to an acquaintance rather than let any suspicion get out. This behavior leaves her to wonder “Why must a girl pay so dearly for her latest escape from routine? Why could one never do a natural thing without screening it behind a screen of artifice?”

Lily is aware that her upbringing leaves her no opportunities except to be a rich man's wife and at the age of 29, she is running out of time. She is anxious over how others perceive her so much that it becomes a central focus of her life. With good reason too as her every step is monitored by people whose malicious gossip can destroy faster than any conventional weapon.

One near engagement with a boring rich man, Percy Gryce, ends after he becomes aware of Lily's penchant for gambling by playing bridge and her presumed flirtations with men. He instead marries a dull homebody socialite with no past and not much of a personality.

Lily's gambling puts her so far in debt that a crooked financier, Gus Trenor, offers to pay off her debt- for a horizontal price. While she refuses, plenty of people have seen them together in public enough for rumors to spread and reach the ears of Trevor's wife, Judy who is Lily's best friend. Lily not only loses a potential husband but a close friendship as well.

A common theme in The House of Mirth is the double standards between the have and have-nots. Someone like Lily who is struggling to be accepted could have a ruined reputation if it even appears that she had stepped one toe out of line. However, the wealthy elite can behave however they want in their inner circle with minimal repercussions. Carry Fisher, a divorcee, lives as freely as she chooses and while is the source of much derision, she is able to laugh it off and live life according to her terms. Surprisingly, Carry is also one of the few genuinely kind honest characters in the book by drawing in new people that are on the fringes of society like the nouveau riche Wellington Brys and Simon Rosedale, a Jewish businessman trying to climb the ladder of wealth. Carry is also one of the few people that still gives Lily a warm reception after she is ostracized because of scandal.

Another person who is Teflon to gossip is Bertha Dorset, a bitchy socialite whom Lily tries to befriend but ends up becoming her nemesis. Bertha is the Queen Bee of New York's social set, the In Crowd Cheerleader/Female Bully all grown up. She has multiple affairs on her clueless husband, George and is skillful at covering them up. When Lily is unable to distract George long enough during a disastrous cruise to the Mediterranean, Bertha deflects the situation by accusing Lily of having an affair with her husband so no one will know Bertha was having an affair with her own lover, Ned Silverton.

Bertha's acknowledgement of Lily's ostracism leads to various ripples that cause Lily's final exile from the society she longed to be a part of. Even her aunt disinherits her in her will leaving Lily destitute working as a social secretary and later for a milliner.

At no point is Lily portrayed as a shallow superficial one-dimensional character. True she has her hang ups about clothes, fancy homes, and being part of the high society set. But she is fully aware that is all she is meant to be. Her background gives her very few alternatives to seek happiness beyond marrying wealth. She isn't like Dorothea Brooke who had the intelligence and drive but was born in the wrong time to use them. All Lily has is to be the Trophy Wife of a rich man and when that is taken from her, she has nothing to fall back on.

Lily questions her status quite often and wishes that she could be free to marry for love. Nowhere is this more evident than in her relationship with Lawrence Seldon, a lawyer who though has many wealthy friends is not himself rich. He pursues Lily for a time clearly in love with her, but Lily regrettably breaks him off because she needs to marry money.

She can't marry for love without financial security because she doesn't know how to do it. After Lawrence is convinced the rumors about her with other men are true and he temporarily leaves her, she is filled with genuine regret that she ended what could have been a good relationship.

Lily also shows a great deal of integrity. When a former servant and Rosedale use letters that expose a former affair between Lawrence and surprise surprise Bertha (another reason why Lily is on Bertha's “People to See Lives to Ruin” List) as potential blackmail, Lily refuses to do so.

She is too honest for the society that she wants to join and eventually abandons her. This abandonment ultimately leads to the end where Lily is left alone with only her regrets and a bottle of chloral hydrate.

The House of Mirth allowed Edith Wharton to expose the world in which she was raised for the cold, superficial, unfeeling world that it was. She revealed the people on the fringes were swallowed whole by the callous and malicious people on the inside. If they couldn't join, they would be trampled underneath and Lily Bart was.