Book Review: Washington Square

Title: Washington Square

(I don't agree that this jacket picture suits this book at all, and it's not the one on the cover of the book I have. Click here to see Amazon's selection of other editions with different covers. The one I physically own isn't shown, and the one I'd like to recommend, the Dover Thrift edition, has one of those interactive images that can't be pasted onto Amazon Associate sites.)

Author: Henry James

Date: 1881, 1959

Publisher: Bantam (1959)

ISBN: none

Length: 162 pages

Quote: “A dull, plain girl she was called by rigorous critics—a quiet, lady-like girl, by those of the more imaginative sort.”

One of the harder fictional plots to write is the Antiromance, the story of how two young people met, felt attracted to each other, and then, for whatever reason, left each other alone. To remember or imagine the hormonal attraction is to want it to be an indicator of True Love. It is much easier for a writer who wants to affirm the completeness of a character's uncoupled life to kill off the Person the Protagonist Didn't Marry, rather than to admit that carnal commotion has nothing in particular to do with True Love, that it's possible to feel intensely attracted to someone you never for a minute imagine you'd really want to live with.

I recently commended the novel Avalon for portraying, to those willing to let themselves see it, two young people whose attraction to each other makes them lifelong friends but never a couple; they feel stronger physical attractions to other people, and act on those, and they have other interests and adventures as well, yet their friendship is part of their story. They separate, love other people, and live happily ever after. It is hard to write a novel that way. Anya Seton pulls it off by making her two characters interesting people—the sort of people who wouldn't be truly compatible with each other for very long, but whom readers would like to know, if not to marry.

In Washington Square Henry James sets himself the more difficult task of portraying two unattractive characters, selfish bores who can't be imagined as good spouses for anybody, and communicating that their not marrying is a Good Thing. James' audience were interested in the idea of eugenics, the idea that at least unhealthy people—and, some thought, unattractive or non-White people—should never have children. James gave them a pair who couldn't really be called “defective” but whom no innocent child deserved to have for parents.

It is possible to follow the story because the other two main characters are interesting, albeit flawed. Catherine, the anti-heroine, is a “large,” “plain,” badly dressed, inarticulate, but sincerely devoted child-at-heart, who happens to have inherited a substantial income from her long-dead mother. Morris, the anti-hero, is “in love” with Catherine's money but not “in love” enough to invest a little time in winning the respect of her overbearing father. Dr. Sloper, the father, is at least intelligent—enough to keep Morris at bay long enough for Catherine to realize how false Morris is, though not (as he thinks) intelligent enough to keep Catherine from realizing how much he underrates her. Mrs. Penniman, the doctor's widowed sister, is selfish as she can be, a steady source of bad advice that she hopes will make the young people miserable in such a way that they'll be emotionally dependent on her and thus furnish entertainment through her prosperous but empty old age. Dr. Sloper wants to keep Catherine from marrying Morris, even though he correctly guesses that Morris is the only man who'll ever propose to her. Mrs. Penniman wants to “help” them achieve an unhappy marriage.

Of these four characters it's possible to say (as Mark Van Doren did) that Catherine is the only one who shows any sincerity or unselfishness at all, and thus the only one who deserves a happy ending. Perhaps it's not possible for male readers to admit that she gets one. Women can make that admission. Catherine is one of those truly unfortunate people whose intelligence, probably in the normal range, is constantly overshadowed by their “brilliant” relatives'. James shows us that she's not really stupid but that, if she did have any kind of talent, she has no idea what it might be. The only sort of career for which she's been allowed any preparation at all is as a “society lady”; for this she has no talent, and it's probably a good thing that being single at thirty allows her to support the arts and charities in peace. It's hard to imagine anyone being a good husband to Catherine—Morris wouldn't be—and, therefore, easy to say that her happy ending consists of not needing a husband's money.

Among novelists whose work has been published long enough to have been rated by more than one or two generations, Henry James rates high. Among novelists in that category who rate high, he's the one I've always enjoyed least. But lots of people like his style, and even I like Washington Square. If it's not possible for James to understand how happy it's possible for a woman to be when she freely chooses to reject a man about whom her late father was right, it's certainly possible for women readers to enjoy the irony of a man recognizing that a woman may be better off without a man.

This book is not at all hard to find. To buy it here, send a U.S. postal order for $5 per book plus $5 per package to Boxholder, P.O. Box 322, Gate City, Virginia, or send a Paypal payment for $5 per book, $5 per package, plus $1 per online payment to the e-mail address you get by e-mailing salolianigodagewi that you'd like to buy this book. At least five and possibly seven books of this size will fit into one $5 package, so please feel free to add other books to the package...you're not actually limited to books reviewed at this site, although, if you do choose from the (by now quite long) list of books labelled "A Fair Trade Book" at this site, you'll be encouraging a living writer, or writers. You can add any real book Amazon offers, as long as the books can be squeezed into the package.