Edith Wharton Books

Ethan Frome is a man that has never been able to make decisions for himself. When he married his wife Zeena it the fact that she made a good companion for the situation with his mother. Their relationship was good at first but it slowly started to die when zeena became sickly. He always did what would be best for other people, but when zeena's cousin came to live with them he took time to see her because Mattie made him feel good about himself. Ethan has been in the same place all of his life and never found a true love. Then mattie came and for once ethan stopped looking at what would be best and started looking for that wonderful feeling.

I had to read this in under two hours for a literary project and I was very pleased to discover an author who managed to write such a constant yet emotional plot in less than 100 pages. It still hasn't dawned on me whether or not Durham was sensible in his choice. I will be writing a full analysis this week so if ever you need help, email me, and I'd be glad to be of service. Good read for the intellectually stimulating conversationalists.

In a way, Edith Wharton was at her best in her novellas -- her stories are lean, taut and emotionally deep. And "Edith Wharton: Novellas and Other Writings" explores views on love, sex, marriage, the conventions of the 19th and early 20th century, and even her own life. They're not just fascinating, but beautifully written.

"Ethan Frome" is the male half of a loveless marriage, with the fretful, fussy Zeena. Then Zeena's lovely cousin Mattie Silver comes to live with them, and she brings out a happier, more passionate side of Ethan. But when Mattie is sent away, Ethan must make a decision. He knows he can't stay in his horrible marriage, so will he run away with Mattie? The choice they make will affect all three lives.

"Summer" shocked the 1917 public, with its frank-for-its-time look at a young woman's sexual awakening. It takes place in the New England village of North Dormer, where the young librarian Charity lives. But when Charity falls in love with an upper-class young rake named Lucius, she finds herself pregnant and unmarried -- a destructive combination in the 1900s. There's only one respectable way out.

"The Mother's Recompense" explores the difficulties of Kate Clephane, who abandoned her husband and daughter, and now lives as an unhappy divorcee on the Riviera. She's unexpectedly invited back, to attend her daughter's wedding -- only to find that her daughter's fiancee is one of Kate's ex-lovers. Now Kate has to wrestle her own regrets and jealousies, to figure out whether to tell her daughter the truth.

"Madame De Treymes" is a sort of Henry Jamesian novella, taking place in early twentieth-century Paris. It follows the unhappy lives abroad of two Americans -- the miserable Fanny Frisbee is married to a nasty aristocrat, and living in Paris. As a knight on a white horse, her friend John is trying to convince her to divorce her hubby and marry him...

"Old New York" is a collection of four novellas, exploring different facets of, well, Old New York -- family strife, adultery, illegitimate children, and a young man's inner changes. And "A Backward Glance" is totally different -- Wharton's autobiography, describing not only her life, but her friendships with the artists of the day, and the inspirations for her rich fiction.

Edith Wharton gave unvarnished looks at social conventions throughout her career -- she doesn't judge, she just tells it how it was, whether she's talking about the Roaring 20s or the uptight Victorian era. Divorce was almost unthinkable, affairs scandalous if revealed, and women had the cards stacked against them in matters of love, marriage and sex.

So her works are even better when you set them in context, full of characters who were totally unlike her. Some were male, some timid and naive, some disgraced (she herself was divorced, though this didn't hurt her socially), and some completely broken by society's dictates. Few of her characters are much like Wharton, but she gets inside their heads and makes them entirely believable.

Wharton's formal, often poetic writing style makes these stories all the richer. They're rich with light, smells, sounds and the swirl of nature, even in a city. But it's offset by the starkness of her stories -- if she took a hard look at hypocrises and social conventions, she didn't flinch from showing what happened to those that transgressed. It's realistic, but a bit depressing.

Doomed love and personal reflection are what makes up a lot of "Edith Wharton: Novellas and Other Writings," a magnificent collection of her shorter books. Sad and beautiful, gripping and classic.

If you want to know more about Rebecca Harding Davis and the way her talent and life were subjugated to her husband's ambitions, read "Survival by Surrender" in "Something More - Excavating Your Authentic Self" by Sarah Ban Brethnach.

Excellent choices. Highly recommended for your Womens Studies research or just for a pleasure read. I particularly love "The Yellow Wallpaper." A fascinating look in the shackled mind of stifled feminine creativity.

This book is inspirational as well as educational by transitioning between Romanticism and Realism. The work challenges the reader to decide whether it refers simply to the prospect of salvation for a man convicted of stealing. Also questions are raised that is it possible that through the naturalistic view that Hugh's theft he can be excused by his unfortunate environment and heredity. Davis is an insightful and thoughtful writer, and this book represents that.

I'm not going to comment on the novel itself here. I'm just wondering whether they have proofreaders up at Barnes & Noble Classics. I love the return of inexpensive mass paperback editions of classic literature, but you shouldn't have to put up with a shabbily prepared text just because you don't want to - or can't - pay the price of a trade paperback or hardback volume. This thing is lousy with typos. It's a disservice to readers and to Wharton herself.

Published in 1905, The House of Mirth offers a blistering social commentary on the lifestyles and behavior of super-rich society. Having grown up in this society, Wharton evaluates it here as an insider, and her trenchant observations give this early novel a liveliness and verisimilitude not characteristic of "aristocratic" novels written by outsiders. Set at a time in which the old, moneyed aristocracy was being forced to admit newcomers who had made their recent fortunes through industry, the novel shows moneyed society in flux, the old guard ensuring their exclusivity against parvenus who are not the "right type," at the same time that their sons and daughters were often securing large fortunes through marriage into some of these new families.

Lily Bart, a beautiful young woman of good family whose father lost everything when she was only nineteen, is left dependent on wealthy relatives in this society until she can charm a financially secure suitor into marriage. At age twenty-nine, she is no longer a debutante, and the pressure is mounting for her to marry, though she lacks the unlimited financial resources of social rivals. Still, her wit and charm make her a delightful companion, and she is never at a loss for suitors. Intelligent enough to want a real marriage and not just a merger between families, she has resisted making a commitment to date, though the clock is ticking.

As Lily tries to negotiate a good marriage and future for herself, she is aware that the competition is fierce. Women "friends" pounce on the latest gossip and spread rumors to discredit rivals, and Lily's reputation is tainted with hints of impropriety. Her opportunities for a good marriage begin to dwindle, and when her aunt, Mrs. Peniston, dies and leaves her a bequest that covers only her debts, Lily is no longer able to compete in the society so attractive to her and begins her downward spiral.

Author Edith Wharton creates a complete picture of turn-of-the-century New York society and its "important" people--their lack of morality, their opportunism, their manipulations, and their smug self-importance, characteristics one may also see in Lily when she is part of this society. But Wharton also shows how quickly a woman may become an outcast when the money runs out and she is thrown on her own resources without any training for any other kind of life. A well-developed melodrama filled with revealing details, this novel established Wharton's reputation as a novelist/commentator on the manners and morals of high society and those who would participate in it. Mary Whipple

Edith Wharton's "The House Of Mirth" is a sad, but brilliant commentary on the closed, repressive society of the rich, upper class, New York nobility, at the dawn of the 20th century. It is also the story of the downfall of one woman, who attempts to live by her own rules, with no sponsor and no money of her own. Her parents are dead and she lives with relatives.

The Barnes and Noble Classic Series Edition of "The House of Mirth" contains an excellent Introduction by Jeffrey Meyers, a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature, who received his doctorate at Berkeley, and has worked as a professional writer since 1992. A distinguished biographer, Meyers has published 43 books and 520 articles on modern American, English, and European literature. This new edition also includes criticism, legacies, and study questions. I found the text to be edited well - only one typo, that I found.

Lily Bart is one of society's most eligible women, at the height of her powers, when the novel opens. Though she has little money, she has family connections, good breeding and the hope of coming into an inheritance. Beautiful and very charming, Lily has been brought up to be an ornament, as were most women of her class at that time. She is a gilded bird with a noble heart, but clearly she is not aware of the restrictions of her cage. Part of Lily's tragedy is that she does have character, spirit, and a conscience. However, she does not know how to align these attributes, with her ornamental avocation, and her ambitions to marry a wealthy man of good birth.

As expected, Lily is popular with both bachelors and married men. Most of the bachelors propose marriage at on time or another. The only man she has real affection for is her dear friend, Lawrence Seldon, a barrister, whose lack of income makes him entirely unsuitable as a husband. Lily had developed a gambling habit to support her lifestyle, and supplement her allowance. An unfortunate losing streak has put her into debt. In her naivete, she forms an unsavory business alliance with a married man. Later, she is unjustly accused of having an affair with him and their business arrangement also come to light.

Her family cuts her off without a penny. Society friends and connections reject their former darling, trying to extricate themselves from any repercussions Lily's indiscreet behavior may have on their reputations. Former friends turn vicious. The irony is that Lily has never committed any of the sins she is accused of. Several of her friends have, and frequently...but their sins are committed with the utmost discretion. Lily's crime is indiscretion. Her beaus disappear, as do her marriage prospects. The hypocrisy of her class becomes more apparent to her, as she searches for a means to survive, with all the familiar doors closed in her face.

Lily seeks employment as a seamstress in the New York City slums, and lives there also, in a humble room with no refinements. Having no formal training and no real ambition, (her ambivalence about work is obvious), she sinks into deep depression and begins to decline. Laudanum helps her to sleep, and she becomes dependent on the drug.

Lily's descent, from society's beautiful darling to a disheveled, desperate woman living in a shabby hotel room, addicted to drugs, is disturbing reading, to say the least. Her decline seems inevitable, especially after we read of her many poor and self-destructive decisions. She seems to sabotage herself. However, Lily Bart is ultimately the victim of a cruel society that sacrifices anyone who does not conform to its expectations.

After reading "House Of Mirth," for the first time several years ago, Lily's character has remained clear in my mind. I think of her from time to time with great poignance and a sense of personal loss.
JANA

I bought this book looking for Maxfield Parrish illustrations. I kept this book because Edith Warton is an incredibly soothing writer.

It should be of note that the text was so wonderfully written that it kept me from returning the book.

Imagine, however, what an incredible book this would be if the Parrish illustrations were not in black and white.

I am a lucky owner of the 1904 original edition. I bought this reissue so that I could enjoy reading the text without worrying about damaging my 1904 edition. Comparing the two, the orignal's Parrish color and black & white illustrations are all there in the reissue. Please note that several were NOT color in the original too. The only difference is that the reissue has the color prints situated in a group in the center of the book, whereas (in the original) they are sprinkled throughout and have tissue paper protection. The color print quality is not as crisp as the original, but it is color. The b&w print quality is just as un-crisp as in the original.

I was very excited to find this book and nab a copy of it. (I'm a garden writer and I wanted to get Edith Wharton's perspective on garden history).

Italian gardens, as it turns out, are places for walking, thinking, conversing and relaxing. Their most common elements are paths, hedges, arcades, fountains, pools and grottos. They very seldom utilize color (a feature that is often ofterdone in American gardens), instead concentrating on foliage texture, stone and statuary. Usual plantings are trees, shrubs and vines.

What is most instructive is the layout of these Italian gardens, including the idea of garden rooms and the use of water features (both of which have become immensely popular here in the US, in the last few years). The architecture of the garden is everything, and is an extension of the house. Order, logic and function are paramount in the Italian garden.

Edith Wharton is a brilliant and fascinating guide; literary and historical references abound. A joy to read and to keep for reference.

I loved this book. I resent being told I have to read anything. But I still found pleasure out of it. In this book Hester commits adultery and is forced to wear an "A" declaring her sin. You will see early on the hypocrisy of the town. Why not make someone where an "L" for liar or an "T" for theif? Hester is a complicated character. She is not trashy like I first expected. Not at all. This book has a lot of symbolism that I found beautiful. There are plenty of twists in this book. Don't watch the Demi Moore movie of The SL. It is completley different from the book. I recommend this book to everyone.

It was a long book for such a short book.

Don't get me wrong, this is a classic book well deserved for that title.

It is a very complicated and intricate story with mystery, love and evil.

You have a woman, Hester Pryne, who is beyond her time. Strong, beautiful, stubborn, honest and a mother without a father.

There is the father, the priest Dimmsdale, a man tormented by his secret. He is weak and is broken down by the secret he feels he cannot tell and tormented each day by it.

The long gone husband, Roger Chillingworth, sinister and revengeful. All he can think about is tormenting the two lovers, to break them down slowly.

There parallels and many themes that are very subtle and unnoticeable. Beautifully written with delicate underlying dialogue that tells it's own story.

This isn't a book for everybody. In order to really understand this book, you need to understand theme, archetypes, motifs, and the relevance of light and shadow. As my American Literature teacher says, bring you own experiences into the story; you will understand it a lot better.

Amidst today's seemingly endless supply of domestic guides and treatises on interior decoration, Edith Wharton might be surprised that her The Decoration of Houses (co-authored with architect Ogden Codman, Jr.) would still be as relevant and necessary as it is a century after its first publication. Long before "simplicity" and "classic" became catchwords for branding, Wharton took a public stand against the bland, trite excesses of Victorian décor in America. Favoring the considered, informed and complex processes of design rooted in architectural principles, her graceful humility was matched only by her assertive plea against the contemporary dominance of thoughtless, conspicuous consumption visible in New York society. As she determinately decreed: "According to the creed of the modern manufacturer, you have only to combine certain `good' to obtain a certain style."

Often associated with the frivolity connected to historical descriptions of femininity, this volume might be a surprise for those who prefer to view Wharton as a New York literary powerhouse. While her 40 books in 40 years (many of which were devoted to travels through European residences and gardens) are a testament to the force of her pen, it's the themes of beauty, pleasure, societal indulgence, cultural education and cosmopolitanism in America's modernity that make her analysis, and eventual ruling on the importance of design and space, a necessary extension of her literary thought. As she aptly begins her historical and aesthetic analysis, "Rooms may be decorated in two ways: by a superficial application of ornament totally dependent of structure, or by means of those architectural features which are part of the organism of every house, inside as well as out." And it's through these sixteen chapters that reflect on everything from the front door to the dining room to bric-a-brac that she offers readers a glimpse at the historic function of furnishings, as well as her claims about taste, beauty and the impact of residential design.

The Italian, French and British capacity for decorating in accord with the Grecian edict of "wise moderation," so admired by Wharton, is illustrated by black and white plates. The illustrations also reveal that the author's penchant for "classic" beauty wasn't about recreating kitschy historic facades or stoic sparseness. Rather, a considered pleasure seems to be her goal as she concludes, "There is no absolute perfection, there is no communicable ideal; but much that is empiric, much that is confused and extravagant, will give way before the application of principles based on common sense and regulated by the laws of harmony and proportion." True to her appreciation for sincerity in the application of decorative principles, readers can see the realization of her rules if they visit the Mount, a 113-acre Lenox estate designed by Wharton in 1902.

Recreated by Rizzoli using photographs of the original 1897 pressing, the only change made by the publishers in this edition is the use of the original interior dust jacket as the model for the printed design that now covers the book. But I don't think Wharton would mind, as she truly believed that design was about the external reflection and illumination of what's on the inside.

The "Decoration of Houses" allows a comparison of styles from antique to modern, with variations for each time period. I own it, but gave it to my daughter too, since she does set design in New York. The only one tht is better, is one that is out of print. My father used as a decorator in Boston.

With plenty of pics, this book is good for a casual flick through or a more careful read. The photographs of the gardens are stunning and inspire a desire to visit in person.

This is not the ultimate writing on Italian gardens, nor the most sumptuos as a coffee-table book. But you can do a lot worse than this when you search for garden books on Italy. And then there is the added dimension that Mrs Wharton drove up to these places a hundred years ago and had a look around. Gentle people alledgedly just showed up "never mind us, we're just here for a stroll in your lovely garden", not recommended today...
Photographs are very good/good. The selection of gardens covers the major part of the most celebrated, with a few minor ones added. No sites south of Rome alas, put the blame on Edith.

"The Fruit of The Tree",Edith Wharton's third novel,remains the most misunderstood of all her writings.It has usually been criticized,even by those who admire it,as "brokenbacked" in structure and unsatisfying with its inclusion of the seemingly contoversial subjects of labor reform and euthanasia in a work that examines marriage and satirizes the idle class.This is primarily the reason "The Fruit of The Tree" has not been published in ninety years;hopefully,readers will rediscover a memorable book with its fascinating portrait of turn of the century America with themes which are still timely.It tells the story of a young nurse,whose intelligence and maturity attracts a brilliant young doctor working to reform deplorable labor conditions for the poor.Despite the nurse's admiration for the doctor's progressivism and her growing love for the doctor's person,he becomes infatuated with the gentle elegance of a beautiful and rich society girl-the nurse's best friend.The society girl supports the doctor's work financially to the great animus of her friends and advisers and eventually becomes smitten with him.They marry,only to discover their incompatibility when the doctor's new schemes for reform are baulked by his wife's love of comfort and security.The doctor by this time realizes that the nurse loves him and that he reciprocates.He argues with his wife and they seperate;the wife left alone breaks her spine in a riding accident and being attended by her friend,the nurse,begs her to kill her.The nurse seeing that her case is desperate(this is a century ago,remember)and influenced by the doctor's support of euthanasia-does so.The nurse falls under suspicion with the public and even the doctor suspects her of killing his wife because of her love for him.They marry,but she is haunted by the fact that despite her protestations of innocence,her husband tacitly believes her culpable."The Fruit of The Tree",subtly depicts the price one pays for following conscience and being ahead of one's time.The novel is not "about" labor reform or euthanasia but uses these to show how today's controversial ideas are usually tomorrow's accepted facts;that the progress of our civilization,accepted as a matter of course, is at the cost of the toil and suffering of others.Bitter is the fruit,indeed.I cannot rate,"The Fruit of The Tree" among Edith Wharton's greatest works,however.The style of the book while good,never reaches the sustained brilliance which she achieves in "The House of Mirth","The Custom of The Country" and "The Age of Innocence",works of which the prose is unrivalled in English fiction. Nevertheless it is a fine novel,and deserves recognition for its well integrated artistry. END

I'm not sure why two positive reviews, including one that appears to be a piece of advertising for something called "Republica Publishing," show up with no stars. At any rate, this is one of Wharton's most interesting novels, although it doesn't have the symmetrical structure of THE HOUSE OF MIRTH and THE AGE OF INNOCENCE. If you're interested in a different work by Edith Wharton, one that involves industrialism, professions for women, euthanasia, divorce, and a host of interesting events, try THE FRUIT OF THE TREE.

This novel which has gone undiscovered for many years deserves close scrutiny and ultimately a judgement on the heroine. The introduction invites the author to decide whether the mother is merely hysterical or has real cause for concern. Whatever the outcome it is a difficult and delightful decision to make

Written in 1925, this less well-known novel by Edith Wharton examines a mother's dilemma. Kate Clephane, the heroine of this novel, deserted her wealthy husband and young daughter twenty years before, when she fled the social constraints of her proper home in New York, at the turn of the century. After the end of that affair she seeks to be reunited with her child, but is denied this by her husband and mother in law. Ostracized by friends and family, Kate leads a life of love affairs and social gatherings amid the frivolous expatriate community on the Riviera. One day she receives a telegram from her now grown daughter. Kate's mother-in-law has died and the girl summons her to return to New York in an attempt to rekindle their relationship. Things go well for a while, until Kate discovers that her daughter is planning on marrying Chris one of Kate's near do well former lovers. Kate is repelled by the thought. She wrestles with what she should do. Should she tell her daughter of her former relationship with Chris, putting her relationship with her daughter in jeopardy? Should she attempt to break up the relationship to save her daughter from marrying a man whose character indicates he was not meant to marry? Or should she keep silent and not break her daughter's heart. The reader struggles with Kate over which is the correct decision, as well as what motivates Kate's behavior. Does she want to end the relationship between her daughter and Chris out of jealousy, or perhaps selfishness? I won't reveal her choice. But in the end she forgoes her own happiness in rejecting the hand of a suitor. Why? This is for the reader to decide. There are similaries in plot and style with Henry James' Washington Square, where a father intrudes into the relationship of his shy daughter with a potentially disastrous suitor.

I loved the language and the characterisation. The characters appear "real" from the moment they show up, and you can't help but cheer for these girls to find happinness. The book is a wonderful window to New York and London society at the time. Fascinating.

If you like Jane Austen you will probably be a fan of this book. Though the pace of the book was certainly faster than Austen I found the book rather boring and predictable.

I first learned of this story from the 1995 miniseries, which I loved. In reading the book it was immediately apparent that the miniseries was quite different in some respects from the original, unfinished text. However, this is not a problem. The novel articulates beautifully the feeling of being always an outsider in one's adopted country and adds several perspectives that are not present in the tv adaptation. Set in the late 1800s, a quartet of American girls, overlooked by the fashionable New York set, seek their matrimonial fortunes in England. Each of our protagonists is unique: from Nan, the dreamy romantic upon who the plot rests and her goddess-like sister Virginia, to the impetuous Connie and the shrewd, savvy and practical Elmswood sisters Lizzie and Mabel. This is not a story without drama and pain, nor do I find it as depressing a tale as many of Wharton's other novels -- thinking particularly about "Life of Mirth". I personally attribute this cautious optimism to Marion Mainwaring who pulled the original unfinished novel together. The story remains one that, for me, is eminently re-readable and thought provoking. It is equal parts society scandal and personal meditation -- a mix that works wonderfully.

Unfinished at the time of Edith Wharton's death in 1937, The Buccaneers was later completed by Marian Mainwaring and published in 1993. Set in the late nineteenth century, it is a story in which newly rich American girls go to London for "the season" and to find husbands. Like the novels of Henry James, one of Wharton's friends, it stresses the contrast between the values of new American society and those of the long-established society of Europe, setting the bright enthusiasms of the Americans against the ritualized behaviors of upperclass Londoners, the freedoms of the Americans against the social and familial obligations of the Europeans.

The daughters of the St. George and Elmsworth families have been snubbed by New York society for the newness of their wealth, and when their friend Conchita Closson marries a member of the British nobility, they follow her to England, intending to participate in "the season" and perhaps find husbands of their own. Though the older girls sometimes compete for the same suitors and are preoccupied with the superficialities of society, the youngest St. George sister, Nan, still retains her carefree spirit, her innocence, and her zest for life.

Wharton completed about three-fifths of the novel before her death, leaving a plot outline for the remainder of the novel. More melodramatic than most of her other novels, The Buccaneers is filled with domestic intrigues, as straightforward but remarkably naïve American heiresses are wooed by faithless suitors who need funds to support their traditional lifestyles. Nan's courtship and marriage become the emotional and dramatic focus of the last part of the novel.

The point at which Mainwaring begins writing is obvious. Though she follows the plot summary which Wharton left behind, her language is less elegant and less formal, her emphasis on the sexual aspects of the relationships more blatant. Marriage, when viewed by the participants as a social responsibility, rather than as a free, romantic choice, leads to the opportunistic marriages we see here, with one partner gaining at the expense of the other. Women take lovers, withhold sexual favors from their husbands--and talk about everyone else who does what they are doing. Trapped in stultifying relationships, they gain social acceptance at the expense of their freedom and happiness. The ending, filled with ironies, is unique among Wharton's novels, feeling more like a Gothic romance than Wharton's usual social commentary. n Mary Whipple

It's an unfortunate fact that any prolific author is going to leave a half-finished book behind them. And when Edith Wharton died in 1937, she left a partly-finished novel, "The Buccaneers," which was later finished by Marion Mainwaring. Unfortunately, Mainwaring couldn't equal Wharton's style, and the resulting book is a bit too rough to be excellent.

The St. George family is wealthy and cultured, but since they are "new money," haughty Virginia and childlike, passionate Nan are excluded from New York society. Nan's governess offers an alternative: the girls and three other snubbed debutantes will spend a season in England, where the newness of their money won't matter. The girls all jump at the opportunity (especially with handsome young aristos running around).

England's aristocracy greets them with both suspicion and delight: Most people love the honest, innocent attitude of the American girls. But when Virginia becomes engaged to a mild-mannered aristocrat, some people see the Americans as "stealing" eligible Englishmen. Meanwhile, Nan has fallen in love with an impoverished aristocrat, but she has some growing up to do first...

Okay, nobody expected Wharton's manuscript to simply sit there, unfinished. It's not very satisfying, for one thing. But "The Buccaneers" doesn't quite work as a Wharton novel. Don't worry, it's a fun read with glimmers of Wharton's wit and societal observation. She just took the story across the pond to England.

The problem is that Marion Mainwaring doesn't write like Wharton. She writes like someone TRYING to write like Wharton, and so her style and characterizations seem very exaggerated at times. Fortunately she only wrote about thirty percent of the book (based on Wharton's original synopsis) and so most of the book has Wharton's flavor.

Not that the Wharton sections are quite perfect either -- since the book was unfinished, some parts of it have a "second draft" feel. And her sharp observations feel dulled here. But it accurately captures Wharton's preoccupation with Victorian propriety, manners, and the delicate social structure around old New York. Not to mention a dash of Henry James, with the stories of American innocents abroad.

The concept of new vs. old money was a big deal in the 1870s, especially since it eventually overturned the old social order. Wharton populated her novel with wide-eyed (and sometimes loudmouthed) American girls, and impoverished young dukes and earls who are trying to keep the crumbling old estates going. Wharton also spiced up the cast with flamboyant mistresses, amnesiac noblemen, and a prim governess who happens to be the cousin of Dante Gabriel Rossetti.

Edith Wharton left a promising book behind her when she died, and fortunately "The Buccaneers" was given passable treatment by Marion Mainwaring. It's too rough to be among Wharton's best, but this flawed novel is still a fun read.