The Portrait of a Lady - Henry James

Henry James' widely considered masterpiece The Portrait of a Lady is an account of Isabel Archer, an orphaned American woman who inherits a large and unexpected fortune at the behest of an admiring cousin. Turning down two offers of marriage from lovestruck suitors, Isabel insists on her continental travels and independence, wishing more than anything to live a life of unbridled freedom. Due to the machinations of false friend, Madame Merle, she eventual succumbs to the charms of Gilbert Osmond in Florence, a 'sterile dilettante' who takes an interest in her money. Ignoring the warnings of her close friends and relatives, Isabel realises her mistake too late and can only stand by helplessly as she watches her high soaring aspirations gradually crushed beneath a mean and narrow-minded nature. The version I read was the original 1881 publication, not the heavily revised 1908 New York edition most readers are familiar with.

Ever the contrarian, I wanted to like Henry James because of all the complaints I had heard of his writing style, but like the heroine of the tale, my pure intentions were foiled. James is a stultifyingly pedantic and exact writer, laboriously pushing his point so as to efface any personal interpretation the reader might develop. Every thought, every utterance of his characters must be exhaustively explained within the right context, corralling our understanding through a rigid channel. It is a possessive and jealous form of writing that greatly diminished my enjoyment of what could otherwise have been a gripping drama. The first half of the novel is immensely boring and absent of narrative action, yet even when things do pick up later on, the damage to the foundations is already in place, like the onset of mould in an unaired bathroom. The much discussed and abrupt ending of the book failed to titillate or antagonise me for I was already past caring what befell defeatist Isabel.

Rating: 2/5