She was born in 1862. Perhaps you know of my addiction to her works. She was a rich woman who was not afraid to venture into the world of literature when such a thing was frowned upon by members of her society. She got to spend her formative years in Europe, where her New York family retreated after the Civil War had deflated the U.S. dollar.
Ah, to be corsetted and sipping tea at 4 each afternoon, told not to associate with "people who write," spend summers in Newport and "seasons" everywhere, to later have the chance to be in Europe often again, motoring around with a best friend such as Henry James.
You can read about what she wrote yourself, but I'll just point out that she was named a Chevalier of the (French) Legion of Honor in 1916 for all her work with World War I refugees in hospitals and hostels (the latter of which she founded).
I am particularly inspired by the way she could take her artistic connections and operate workrooms for unemployed French women, hold concerts for out-of-work musicians, and edit a fund raising collection "The Book of the Homeless" to put her money and privilege where her mouth was.
No mere "chronicler of society" was she, though I relish the lovely details of the lifestyles she provides access to, over 100 years later, the drawing rooms and domestic conversations that were behind those "robber barons" you may have been reminded about, if you watched Sen. Webb's response to President Bush's seventh State of the Union address.
After that generation's Great War, she remained in her beloved France until she died, returning only once, in 1923, to receive an honorary doctorate from Yale University.
I have a bit of a crush/role model thing going, as you can see.
(Chers Famille et mes Amis, oui, c'est vrai, we have inklings abroad. And if you can locate a cheap one, please send me a copy of "The Decoration of Houses," which she co-authored as her first book with an architect named Codman and which I somehow - I don't know - had chucked out with other "college books I no longer care about.")
And, even though she wrecked my GPA with her cursed "pass/fail" experiment, thank you again to Dr. Catherine Parke for veering off the published course content as well, from Woolf and Stein to Wharton and Cather.
4 comments:
Of course as you know it's thanks to you that I read _The House of Mirth_! I am glad of it even tho I occasionally razz you about helping me understand why you like it so much. :) I loved _Ethan Frome_ which I read during grad school in my phase of Reading Lots of American and English Canon-members as Procrastination Fodder Instead of Reading the French Canon-member Stuff I Was Supposed to be Reading!... Responding to other stuff... I think you had mentioned Katrina's name in an email maybe? I knew it as soon as you said it in your comment at any rate. And you're entirely welcome re: the New Blogger tests. Nyernt nyernt... not that I found anything super mind-blowing yet since I have almost nothing on the blog that I switched :)
bummer! i think i chucked deco of houses in the move, since you told me you still had yours. if i see one, i'll pick it up for you.
i'm working through twilight sleep at the moment, very malaise-y but has the air of being interessante.
miss u.
I had no idea she had married as well. The way you describe her she has a feel that makes me think she'd never marry. Happy Birthday to Edith!
actually, after being from the joneses one is supposed to keep up with, she married teddy wharton, a guy about 14 years her senior, never had kids (they hardly were "together," if you catch my drift, to make that happen), and actually divorced in 1915 or so, 30 years later. and then she fell in love with this walter berry fellow, the head of the u.s. chamber of commerce in france or something.
Post a Comment