A Backward Glance. Edith Wharton. This web edition published by [email protected] Adelaide. Last updated Wednesday, December 17, at To the best of . In his Introduction, Louis Auchincloss calls the writing in A Backward Glance “as firm and crisp and lucid as in the best of her novels”.Written in , three years. Edith Wharton, the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize, vividly reflects on her Louis Auchincloss calls the writing in A Backward Glance “as firm and crisp and.

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Clearly she was blessed with the knack for storytelling, and had an affinity with books long before she could even read–her gift of imagery and pretend, of having her characters literally introduce themselves to her with complete names, addresses and professions or lack thereof calls to mind Mozart’s magic–“music from Bbackward to hear Dr Yeou-Cheng Ma describe it.

Born into one of New York’s elite families, she drew upon her knowledge of upper class aristocracy to realistically portray the lives and morals of the Gilded Age.

Edie needs a villa EW’s coy “autobiography,” written in the mid30s, contains a lot of bunkum. This autobiography is whwrton more than a romp down memory lane, from her giddy, embarrassingly girlish descriptions of her Victorian clothing and even bonnets, as a child and outings with her beloved father. She couldnt bear to see any breakup of the social and class structure that enhanced her Wnarton Age.

Friends with Henry James and Teddy Roosevelt, she found herself marooned in Paris inand spent the next four years working with refugees, and the last twenty years of her life in France. Now that I have lived to see both these branches of culture dispensed with, I perceive that there are worse systems of education. Her society friends didn’t talk about her writing, as it was looked down upon as a career.

Want to Read saving…. Edith Wharton was one of the best writers of the 20th century. My library Help Advanced Book Search. Edith Wharton, the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize, vividly reflects on her public and private life in this stunning memoir.

But for pithy wit, wait for some of Henry James’ quotes.


A Backward Glance by Edith Wharton

Wells makes a brief -as in one sentence – appearance. But as always, her prose is fantastic and as a result it’s still pretty pleasant to read. As a child, Wharton found refuge from the demands of her mother’s social world in her father’s library and in making up stories. Her marriage at age 23 to Edward “Teddy” Wharton seemed to confirm her place in the conventional role of wealthy society woman, but she became increasingly dissatisfied with the “mundanities” of her marriage and turned to writing, which drew her into an intellectual community and strengthened her sense of self.

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Her real emotional life was in her friendship with other writers, most of them men – so go sit glancee somewhere and feel sorry for her husband there, not it the intro to her autobiography.

In this volume she takes a look back at her own life; the novels, her marriage, her friends, and her life as an American living in Paris. I have had good friends between whom and myself that bond was lacking, but they were never really intimate friends; and in that sense Henry James was perhaps the most intimate friend I ever had, though glxnce many ways we were so different.

Trivia About A Backward Glance.

Jan 29, Annabelle rated it it was amazing Shelves: It certainly did not disappoint– chock full of insights about the books and Wharton’s life without being too confessional.

Only because private gatherings in Paris means meeting the same people over and over again. Even if I didn’t enjoy this as a whole, the chapter on Henry James alone would’ve been worth the read.

For someone who professed to be uninterested in celebrities, she certainly attended many dinners and luncheons hosted by celebrated hostesses and attended by the rich and famous. Nov 08, Karen rated it it was amazing. He had not my solace of hard work, though he did all he had strength for, and gave all the pecuniary help he could.

After a failed engagement, Edith married a wealthy sportsman, Edward Wharton. One thing I’ve noticed in reading both Wharton’s novels and this book is that it is helpful – for me, necessary – to have a dictionary and computer nearby so I can look up the many words I don’t know and the many references to people and places unfamiliar to me.


But it was in Paris that I found the necessary formula. Advised that a boat for England sails from Boston in two fdith, Henry whinges that Lud! Bit of a dull read – lots backwward lists of books read and people seen, and being broadly unfamiliar with both reading through them was a bit of a slog. Was it the same insignificant I that I had always known? Edie, pls take off your corset. Account Options Sign in. Feb 26, Ann-marie rated it really liked it.

Each evening has unknown people coming in and so forth. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. She is buried in the American Cemetery in Versailles, France. Key details of Wharton’s own life are often glossed over or excluded. Sign up here to receive your FREE alerts. If there is glaance part that lost my interest it was the extensive wharfon of names she references with her English and French literary circles. The main difference is that Nabokov made his world seem real and beautiful, while Wharton’s seems strangely distant.

He found me when my mind and soul were whraton and thirsty, and he fed them till our last hour together. At first, I was put off by her recounts of endless dinners and gatherings, thinking that she was a bit of a name-dropper.

There are certain things mentioned about him that I found endearing. Goodreads helps you keep track of books you want to read. In Edith divorced Edward. I hope it went beyond frottage.

Whether that was reality for her or just a state of mind, to be able to put it in words; what joy! Be the first to discover new talent! She also continued to write, lying in her bed every morning, as she had always done, dropping each newly penned page on the floor to be collected and arranged when she was finished. Nabokov and Wharton were both insufferably aristocratic and they were both fantastic prose stylists.

Perhaps it was better so.