The House of Mirth (Macmillan Collector's Library)

I wasn't that impressed with the story. It was a little boring and hard to follow in places because of the purple prose: girl doesn't want to marry anyone, attains a gambling debt, refuses to marry to pay off that debt, and winds up in poverty because of her stubbornness. She takes a little more medicine than she should have and then goes to sleep forever. That about sums it up. It's just a story about a stuck-up woman who wants to live individually and not have to depend on a man and his money to survive.

I recently purchased this MP3 CD..and it just was not satisfactory. The Reader wasn't that good, and she talked so fast (did they speed this up to get it on MP#?) that it was difficult to comprehend the book at all. I don't really like MP3 CDs..because if you lose your place it it too difficult to find where you are. I will try to find a longer version with a different reader. I had one on cassettes that was wonderful..but now want to change to CDS.

This was just not my type of book that I read.. It was ok in some parts but mostily I just did not like it !! I did not like the ending at all as which some other readers shared my opinion.. it was long and drugged out the vocabulary in it was horrible !!! Having to look up words in the dictionary in order to just get a meaning .. no did not like this story line nor the ending of the book .. sorry

This wasn't my style of book. It was very difficult for me to relate to the main character. She seemed shallow and lazy which made the story much less enjoyable. I would have liked to see more depth in other characters as well, we only got to know a few. It may be the time written but all characters seemed obsessed with money and status which I did not like. There were many parts of the book that didn't pertain to the story line and I felt myself stuggling to pay attention.

I had read only one other of Edith Warton's books - Age of Innocence. I enjoyed it very much. It moved much faster envnthough it was of the same time period. Lilly Bart is somewhat of a 'scatterbrain' and I am tiring of the book and I am at Chapter 13. Hope it ends soon.

I did not enjoy reading the book through chapter 8 so at this point I say why bother. I hope that women have come along since the years portrayed on this book. Edith Wharton will not be added to my list of favorites. Her books may be good for historical information but certainly this one was neither interesting or uplifting!

The character development in this novel is better than average. Lily Bart, the protagonist, and those closest to her are well-developed. Those furthest from her, Simon Rosedale and Gus Trenor, for example, are more like caricatures. Though she is an exotic specimen of an extinct breed, Lily is relatable. That’s why her sad story is so moving.

The period detail isn’t very fine, but it’s plentiful. This is old New York, the New York of tea service on city trains, Ellis Island, poor relief, the social life of old money and the tacky swankiness of new money swells from out West.

For these reasons and more, I want to give this book a higher rating, but the first two thirds of the book barely moves. So I’ll talk about the last third.

The usual portrait of the author, Edith Wharton, depicts her as a maverick aristocrat, but not an anti-aristocrat. Though an early example of something like a feminist or a Bohemian, she understood that her place was in high society. That is, she liked the money and the stimulating company but not the old money social strictures.

You’d never guess her moderate position from reading this novel. She offers nothing redeeming about aristocratic society. It’s a rat race, especially for women. It prevents people from following their dreams, making true friends and finding true love. And if you believe that Wharton was only attacking the “gilded age”, just re-read the last chapter. This book is a strong supplement to the Book of Ecclesiastes.

2.7 stars

How this book as been rated so high is beyond me. It's depressing, boring, exaggerated, and dull. I wanted to finish for my book club so I did but what a waste of my time. I immediately started reading another book to get my mind off this one. The House of Mirth was a real downer for me.

*Spoilers*

*Spoilers*

The more I learned about Lily Bart, the more I disliked her. She was phony, conniving, calculating, materialistic, a snob, someone who thought she was entitled to the finer things in life. She was mostly driven by her fear of poverty, but she was also raised to be this way.

However, what makes her a compelling character is that she's aware of all this about herself. She despises this need for luxury at the same time that she desires it. At one point in the novel, someone observes that she sabotages herself because she despises the super-wealthy. It's why, at the age of 29 and incredibly beautiful, she remains unmarried.

Lily does several things towards the end that redeem her and redeem the novel for me. She tries to learn a trade, although she finds to her utter dismay that she can't do it. More importantly, she burns the letters which would have been the key to her readmittance to high society. Lastly, inspired by Nettie's example, she decides to make do with the life she now has and build upon it.

Was it suicide or an accidental overdose? Was she frightened at the prospect of her future or did she simply want to sleep? It's ambiguous. In the end, her self-respect is intact and her debts are paid.

I was surprised by the story. I had expected her to marry Mr. Rosedale, to sell out or somehow get into his clutches, and it threw me for a curveball that she didn't. I also loved the depiction of high society. It made me never want to be a part of that world.

Knowing Edith Wharton’s reputation as a writer but not having read any of her books, I was anticipating wit and dry humour. What I wasn’t quite expecting was the deft way in which the author wields the literary equivalent of a scalpel to dissect the snobbery, hypocrisy and downright cruelty of the New York social scene. I mentioned the mocking humour and here are a few of my favourite examples:

On the eligible but tedious bachelor, Percy Gryce: ‘Mr. Gryce was like a merchant whose warehouses are crammed with an unmarketable commodity.’

On Lily’s aunt, Mrs Peniston: ‘To attempt to bring her into active relation with life was like tugging at a piece of furniture which has been screwed to the floor.’

‘It was the “simple country wedding” to which guests are conveyed in special trains, and from which the hordes of the uninvited have to be fended off by the intervention of the police.’

‘Lily presently saw Mrs. Bry cleaving her determined way through the doors, and, in the broad wake she left, the light figure of Mrs. Fisher bobbing after her like a row-boat at the stern of a tug.’

And I have to mention the elegance of the writing that can convey so much in just a few sentences. For example, as Lily observes those she has regarded as friends: ‘That very afternoon they had seemed full of brilliant qualities; now she saw that they were merely dull in a loud way. Under the glitter of their opportunities she saw the poverty of their achievement.’

Throughout the book, my sympathy was always with Lily and the situation she finds herself in. Yes, she has a role which is largely confined to being an ‘adornment’ to the social scene. However, I admired her determination to use the gifts she has been given, even if that does involve a degree of manipulation. Unfortunately, an entirely innocent action and a chance meeting set in motion a chain of events that put Lily in the power of others, risking her future happiness. Lily believes her beauty allows her to manipulate men but, sadly, she finds it is she who is being manipulated because of a mistake and the need to maintain her social status because of her (relative) poverty.

It transpires that navigating the social scene is akin to a game of snakes and ladders. Working your way up takes time, requires skill in order to cultivate contacts and involves being seen in the right places with the right people. ‘She had been fashioned to adorn and delight; to what other end does nature round the rose-leaf and paint the humming-bird’s breast? And was it her fault that the purely decorative mission is less easily and harmoniously fulfilled among social beings than in the world of nature?’ However, one misstep, one troublesome rumour or item of mischievous gossip and you can slide down very quickly. ‘Lily had the doomed sense of the castaway who has signalled in vain to fleeing sails.’

Very few of the characters in the book come out well. So-called friends (I’m looking at you, Mrs. Fisher) prove to be anything but in Lily’s hour of need – because they are too timid, too afraid of what others will say or possess ulterior motives.

I’ll confess, I was unprepared for the impact the ending had on me. Part of me could understand why Lily did what she did and part of me wished she had found the strength to take another course. The romantic in me wanted another outcome altogether which, I’ll admit, would not have been true to the spirit of what the author was trying to communicate in the book. Call me an old softy.

This will definitely not be the last book by Edith Wharton I read. What an amazing author to have discovered; even more amazing when you realise The House of Mirth was Wharton’s first published novel.

On a scale of cotton candy to Brussels sprouts, The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton is stolen starburst. This sweet, pop-in-your-mouth candy either lingers long or is gone with a quick chew. But if the candy is lost, then you never enjoy that final tastiness.

Miss Lily grew up with a disdain for plain living and a taste for luxury. Yet, she did not have enough money as an adult to live her life that way without becoming the plaything of the rich. Miss Lily chafes at her life, struggling between the question of happiness, morality, and financial means. Is she merely a pawn in the game of the rich?

I do love reading classics, but they often take more time to read due to the language and subtlety. Miss Lily held herself aloof of both readers and her peers, but her life, struggles, highs, and lows felt relatable still. The story came full circle in a way. And while there didn't seem to be much of a plot, I couldn't help but feel that Miss Lily was at the mercy of the riptide of society. Edith Wharton spun the world of Miss Lily with the prettiest and starkest word pictures, and I often grinned over them.

If you enjoy classics and have not yet read The House of Mirth, you really ought to.

Real living characters that will stay with me. In fact that is what made this book so worth reading. The heroine and hero have so much to learn that it is painfully true to life unlike many novels. The reader is forced to learn their lessons.

Tragic ending that did not go where I wanted it to, but will linger longer for that reason. Wharton does do a great job of reminding us of how trapped women were, how oppressed and vulnerable.

But I also read it as a psychological thriller. I kept wanting to shout at Lilly: "Yes, but You don't have to THINK that way. You can think just outside the box enough to -- over time -- find a new life for yourself.." But like any great tragedy, so much happens in so short a time period.

A great deal of psychological insight realistically portrayed... I experienced it not so much as satire but as a personal journey that could not find resolution. I will eagerly read it again.

This book took some time before interest took over. I really don't care for this type of book but, persisted to the end. If I had to do over again, I'd pass it up. So, I can't recommend this to anyone.

America and Europe of the 1800s were stiff, gilded, formal place, full of "old" families, rigid customs and social transgressions. Especially for women. And nobody chronicled them better than Edith Wharton, who spun exquisitely barbed novels out of the social clashes of the late nineteenth century. "The House of Mirth" is one of her darker stories, where scandals and lack of conformity trigger a tragic downward spiral for a vibrant woman.

Like most not-so-rich women, Lily Bart is on the prowl for a marriage to keep her in luxury and affluent circles. What's more, she has a rapid intellect and striking looks, but she is also a habitual liar who defies society's strictures (she gambles and smokes). Her only friend is Lawrence Seldon, but she is determined not to marry for love alone.

Unfortunately, her schemes and plans start to collapse -- her adoring suitors either aren't rich enough, or her independent spirit sends her off. Her desperation becomes even more intense as she finds herself in the thick of a scandal, spun up by a malicious society matron to cover up her own affair. With her reputation in ruins, Lily's life spirals down into a new life of unemployment, poverty, and the final tragedy.

Edith Wharton always paid a lot of attention to a woman's restricted life in the Gilded Age, and how scandals, unconventionality and society's hypocrisy could ruin them. But "The House of Mirth" pays more attention to this than most -- it's a bleakly realistic story, unflinchingly showing Lily's slow descent into miserable loneliness.

Despite that, Wharton's writing is pure flowering poetry with a knack for evocation ("Her small pale face seemed the mere setting of a pair of dark exaggerated eyes"), and has a sensual quality with all the descriptions of silks, plants, soft light and luxurious mansions. And she vividly portrays the upper echelons of New York society at the time -- affairs, gossip and gilded salons -- as well as the restricted lives of women

But Wharton is just as capable of describing the darker, sadder world that Lily falls into ("... blurred the gaunt roof-lines, threw a mauve veil over the discouraging perspective of the side streets"). Sedoesn't pull any punches with the tragic finale, which has a distinct air of inevitability about it -- no fairy-tale last-minute save by a Prince Charming.

Lily starts out the book as a glimmering satellite of society, who can be rather selfish and cruel, but who nevertheless gains some sympathy because she just doesn't deserve everything that happens. The cruel, glittering society of the time had no room for women who stood outside the lines, and Lily's slow downward spiral is an illustration of this -- she's driven into miserable poverty and drug addiction. Lovely.

"The House of Mirth" is anything but mirthful -- it's the study of a woman's slow downfall, and the cruel society that left her friendless and disgraced. Haunting and vivid.

America and Europe of the 1800s were stiff, gilded, formal place, full of "old" families, rigid customs and social transgressions. Especially for women. And nobody chronicled them better than Edith Wharton, who spun exquisitely barbed novels out of the social clashes of the late nineteenth century. "The House of Mirth" is one of her darker stories, where scandals and lack of conformity trigger a tragic downward spiral for a vibrant woman.

Like most not-so-rich women, Lily Bart is on the prowl for a marriage to keep her in luxury and affluent circles. What's more, she has a rapid intellect and striking looks, but she is also a habitual liar who defies society's strictures (she gambles and smokes). Her only friend is Lawrence Seldon, but she is determined not to marry for love alone.

Unfortunately, her schemes and plans start to collapse -- her adoring suitors either aren't rich enough, or her independent spirit sends her off. Her desperation becomes even more intense as she finds herself in the thick of a scandal, spun up by a malicious society matron to cover up her own affair. With her reputation in ruins, Lily's life spirals down into a new life of unemployment, poverty, and the final tragedy.

Edith Wharton always paid a lot of attention to a woman's restricted life in the Gilded Age, and how scandals, unconventionality and society's hypocrisy could ruin them. But "The House of Mirth" pays more attention to this than most -- it's a bleakly realistic story, unflinchingly showing Lily's slow descent into miserable loneliness.

Despite that, Wharton's writing is pure flowering poetry with a knack for evocation ("Her small pale face seemed the mere setting of a pair of dark exaggerated eyes"), and has a sensual quality with all the descriptions of silks, plants, soft light and luxurious mansions. And she vividly portrays the upper echelons of New York society at the time -- affairs, gossip and gilded salons -- as well as the restricted lives of women

But Wharton is just as capable of describing the darker, sadder world that Lily falls into ("... blurred the gaunt roof-lines, threw a mauve veil over the discouraging perspective of the side streets"). Sedoesn't pull any punches with the tragic finale, which has a distinct air of inevitability about it -- no fairy-tale last-minute save by a Prince Charming.

Lily starts out the book as a glimmering satellite of society, who can be rather selfish and cruel, but who nevertheless gains some sympathy because she just doesn't deserve everything that happens. The cruel, glittering society of the time had no room for women who stood outside the lines, and Lily's slow downward spiral is an illustration of this -- she's driven into miserable poverty and drug addiction. Lovely.

"The House of Mirth" is anything but mirthful -- it's the study of a woman's slow downfall, and the cruel society that left her friendless and disgraced. Haunting and vivid.

This could have been a good book; perhaps I should have read an abridged edition. There are waaay too many characters, many not essential to the plot; and the author is introducing new ones with their own little mini-plots, almost up to the end. The writing style is ponderous and difficult in certain passages.

We are not really told why Selden chooses to abandon Lilly, other than that his cousin, a girlfriend of hers, becomes understandably jealous of Lilly. Nor is it really clear why Rosedale, richer than God, does not actually help her out of her debt; after all, he did want to marry her badly. Lilly is basically a proud person, well aware of her great beauty asset, but in the end her own worst enemy.

House of Mirth is often considered Wharton's masterpiece. It is a remarkable and good novel. It is, however, not very good, or excellent. House of Mirth is a thoroughly infuriating work that edges to the precipice of exploring the absolute depths of the human condition, then backs away. It was considered a sensational work in its own time, and Lily Bart is one of the most complex female protagonists created at the turn of the century. Lawrence Selden proved exasperating to this reader as well, not because he lacked nobility and virtue, but because his sense of honor, so acute, was still so incomplete. This is an incredibly important work, and it should be read as one of Wharton's two or three most influential works. As a novel, it is, in this reader's amateur judgement, inferior to Wharton's other great works, especially Ethan Frome and Age of Innocence.

The novel by Edith Wharton offers a description of the shallow strivings and pleasures of the rich, or of those who would like to be rich.
It is a deeply disturbing tale of not just the pointless and basically empty life of an individual, but of an entire social segment. Money, position, acceptance into the 'inner circle' are the only values worth living for, and there are no redeeming solutions or alternatives for the rich and the beautiful.
Yet Wharton offers some relief by introducing in Selden a character, who represents different ideals and through this device the novel is enriched with a new horizon, a new content for life. Selden cannot change the goal of the main characters in the novel, nor can he change society in general, but he does reassure the reader of the book, that foolish goals are not universal. From the beginning of the tale it seemed obvious that Lily has but two possibilities, two choices; yet in the end she chooses a third one--athough true to her vacillating character, even that choice is dubious as far as its inent goes.
I suppose this tale had to be written to show what futile ambitions are like, and where they lead in the end (and it is Wharton's genius that she does not become preachy revealing this) but I am too old for hopelessness and shallow ideals, even in atale well told. In order to be able to endure the vicissitudes of growing old, I personally need literature which uplifts, offers some spiritual content, or shows novel ways of conquering problems. On occasions when life becomes too difficult, I am glad to settle for just some joyous entertainment. The House of Mirth cannot provide any of this, so I don't recommend it to sensitive readers past a certain age

Brilliantly written and extremely sad. I don't believe the heroine deserves the fate Ms Wharton assigned to her. Lily Bart is not a perfect person, but who is, yet she's honest with herself and others, dignified despite all the adversity that befalls her, clever, and intelligent. She doesn't "stoop to folly" even when hard pressed. Yes, a big part of the problem is her own doing, her inability to break away from the "high society", but it's the society in which she has been brought up and it takes unusual strength of character to do so. I think Selden could've done a better job reaching out to her, especially closer to the end, when she started to spiral down. Of course, he couldn't push too hard, either, yet, as a friend and possible husband, he should've fought harder for what he thought was right. To me, Selden doesn't appear an attractive personality although the author seems to present him favorably. He is a bit full of himself as far as I am concerned and his love for Lily, though declared, seems lukewarm. When she came to his place at the end and said that she would be leaving Lily Bart with him, he should've been more discerning and quick-thinking. She came to him for help and help should've been given. He should've have said something like, "I don't need the Lily you're trying to leave me. I want the Lily that's now in front of me and I will detain this Lily here, won't let her go anywhere to do silly things until I hear from her that she's marrying me now". Maybe too simplistic but it might've worked. Maybe that's what she came to him for. Maybe she was too proud to say that herself after her debacle with Rosedale, but Selden, if he'd loved her, should've been more intuitive
Had he succeeded, she would've married him and they would have become a middle class family, nothing "dingy" about being a lawyer, and she would have had a child she dreamed about during the last night of her life. Now it's Selden's loss--and ours.

I appreciated this book and enjoyed reading it, but ...

I understand that it was written as a denunciation of a class of society we like to think we no longer support. I understand that it was written to expose a standard of parasitic behavior we like to think we no longer tolerate. I understand it was written in sympathy with a charming but weak character who succumbs to external forces when removed from her accustomed environment. In essence, she suffers hypothermia when cast out into the cold, and cannot figure out how to save herself. I understand. That's why I gave it three stars.

But ... in the end, while I appreciated the view into a world not my own, it was much like watching a documentary on PBS. I learned alot, but I wasn't gripped by the characters I met. Lily, Seldon and many of the secondary characters are certainly charming, perhaps memorable, and maybe even lovable, but in the end they were such products of their environment that they remained just a little alien, and therefore separate, from me and my reading experience.

Beautiful Lily Bart, trained from birth to take her place in the highest echelons of New York society of the late 19th century, lacks the money to maintain her position in this elite and snobbish group, so must marry well. At the age of twenty-nine her options are beginning to narrow, so she must do it soon before her beauty begins to fade. But Lily has a problem – she is unable to bring herself to marry purely for money and has met only one man who inspires passion – a man who doesn't possess either the wealth or the desire to live the kind of life Lily must have. This is the story of Lily's gradual descent through the social classes as a series of bad decisions causes her to lose the one thing more important to this shallow society than beauty – her reputation. Along the way, she will gain some self-knowledge and learn to value her self-respect more than her status. Well, almost...

If only I could have loved Lily! If I could at any point have felt that she were worthy of a week of my life, or a moment of Selden's (an adulterer, so not a particularly high standard to reach)! It is undoubtedly true that books affect us differently depending on when we read them, and I suspect that had I read this when I was eighteen, it would have delighted me nearly as much as Ms Austen's books did at that age and, like them, would probably then have remained a favourite. In fact, for a large part of the beginning, I found myself comparing Lily to Austen's equally unlikeable heroine Emma. But even in Emma, Austen tempers her view of a society that restricts women to the unpleasantnesses of the marriage mart by having a little humour and some fundamentally decent characters. In The House of Mirth, Wharton invites us to sneer at the characters rather than laugh with or even at them, and the most decent man is an adulterer who then snubs Lily for doing considerably less than he did. Accurate, of course, as a representation of the inequality of women, but hardly likely to make the reader warm towards him. Not this reader, at any rate.

The book gives a cuttingly brilliant portrayal of this society and of the basic amorality at the heart of it. Money clears the path to good reputation – one can be forgiven anything if one is rich enough. But commit the crime of poverty and one is left balancing precariously on a high wire, without a safety net. And Lily doesn't have the self-control to stop herself from swaying with each wind that blows. Her fall is described with what feels like great authenticity. She doesn't plummet to her doom – rather she lands high up on a hill and then slips gradually down. This lets Wharton show the various strata of society, from the established and well-born, through the nouveau riche, to the rich but not quite respectable, and finally to the dinginess of genteel poverty that Lily has been brought up most to fear. Lily has opportunities to break her fall but each time, as she reaches the crunch, her pride won't let her make the sacrifice that would be necessary.

Mild spoilers ahead...

The writing is, of course, excellent, as is Wharton's insight into the workings of this society and the characters who inhabit it. But I found it a cold novel, without the contrasts that might have lent it some much needed warmth. I liked no-one, and actually I suspect that was Wharton's intention. Being shallow, however, I need someone to care about to make a novel really work for me – and I couldn't care about Lily, however hard I tried. Oh yes, by the end I felt sorry for her but, truthfully, not terribly. Her ambitions are so petty, her hardships so cushioned, her decisions so egotistical. She represents everything that is worst about a society where worth is measured by wealth, and just as I wouldn't regret the passing of that kind of society, I couldn't get worked up about this one unimportant little hanger-on. Get a job, was my constant cry! But no, Lily couldn't even manage that. Become a companion to a rich old lady, then, I shrieked at her! No, no, she replied, I must attend parties and look more beautiful than everyone else or my life is not worth living. I felt forced to agree with the latter part of that sentence. And thus, when we wound slowly, slowly, slowly to the inevitable end, I regret to say I... giggled. I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, honestly! I really hoped I'd sob!

End of spoilers...

I don't at all think my reaction means that the book fails, however. Apart from a rather sickly sweet finale (hence the giggling), I suspect my reaction was very much what Wharton intended to inspire. Certainly she wasn't holding these people up for admiration and, as a social critique, I feel the book works wonderfully well. (I felt at points, though, that Wharton was far from immune from the attitudes and snobberies she was criticising – her depiction of Rosedale, for example, and her stereotyping of the 'poor'.) In the end, the lack of any characters that I could fully sympathise with (poor Gerty, too pathetically good to be true, I fear), meant that, like Emma, my admiration for the book never quite grew into love.

One of the best character studies I have ever read and an interesting tale that gives a glimpse into the exclusive high society of turn of the century New York. This is my favorite book by Wharton. Something about the character of Lily Bart is very appealing as well as extremely frustrating. She is a charming, clever, but poor beauty that could easily win the game she is playing. The prize she is striving for is a fantastically rich, NY society husband who will let her have her way so she will be a leader of her circle. She has natural style, poise, and charm and she knows with money she could be the best of her world. She wants the freedom to decorate her own sitting room, but hesitates at taking the final steps to ensure this happens. Lily has a true moral center, and a strong aesthetic sense that makes her reluctant to do anything "shabby" or "vile." However, she is extremely dependent on living the high life and has no training or real interest in work or supporting herself. She gambles and flirts, and sometimes rebels against the close scrutiny an unwed society-beauty is under and acts in ways that are not morally bad, but create ripples of gossip around her. These ripples build into waves and are used against her by people she considered friends.

At the time the reader is introduced to Lily Bart she is 29 and has thrown many chances away and is beginning to feel the pressure of time. She has multiple suitors in the book, but two are the most significant. The man she is most attracted to, Lawrence Selden, is a relatively poor lawyer who has a great rapport with her. He is a welcome guest in her circle, and has had affairs with society ladies, including Lily's nemesis, the cruel and ruthless Bertha Dorset. Selden has an unintended effect of distracting Lily from her plans. He is fascinated by Lily, but also hesitates to declare his feelings for her. Her other main suitor is Simon Rosedale, a very rich Jew who has a strong desire to enter Lily's social circle, and sees Lily as a way to bridge the gap he is trying to cross (btw, some ways of describing the Jewish race in this book would not be condoned today, though it is not an overtly anti-Semitic novel). Rosedale is actually a good match for Lily. He is clever and has compassion, and his goals match with hers perfectly. She is not attracted to him, and even finds him repugnant at first and snubs him openly. He climbs as she falls, however, and at the end of the book their places have sort of switched in regards to society's acceptance. Rosedale sees things clearly, and is Lily's friend up to the end though their situations change.

This book has a pretty depressing and frustrating end. I can see why some reviewers are disgusted with Lily Bart as she holds the key for success and revenge in her hands but does not sink to using them, even in a way that will not expose or hurt her enemies too much. She seems indecisive and inconsistent, and she is, but she is also very human. Through Lily we see the hypocrisy of a strict society that does not really value what it claims to value. Lily sees this, but is unable to be a hypocrite at the end. Wharton is (was) a gifted writer and her language is lovely and tells the tale very well. Definitely a classic worth reading.

Warning: Plot spoilers ahead! This is more of a review than a preview.

Wharton is evidently a novelist similar to Jane Austen. But while Austin writes about early 1800s England, Wharton writes about early 1900s America, and is a much more sophisticated writer. This novel centers around a secretly-unhappy beautiful 29-year-old who lives amongst the idle rich, or Old Money, of New York City. An exquisite but slow-paced and sad story.

It could easily have had a happy ending. Wharton seems malevolent. Someone should rewrite the ending. Marry the two leads (obviously). Give Lily a job as a home decorator or art-seller, while having Selden be very successful, and make a lot of money, as a lawyer and confidant to the filthy rich.

Taking place in the early 1900's in New York City, this novel tells the story of Lily Bart, who is beautiful, formerly rich, and determined to marry well so that she can be rich again. To accomplish this, she moves in the highest levels of the smart society, all the while running up debts. However, she is more aware than she should be of the shallowness of her endeavors, and consequently (and often subconsciously) sabotages her own efforts, just when a man is ready to propose. Her one "spiritual" match is not rich enough to allow her to be a part of the world she has been schooled to desire. Through circumstance and her own unwise actions, she falls down the rungs of the ladder of society, until her only opportunity for redemption is to blackmail her chief adversary. And then....

Edith Wharton is so subtle, so understated, that it is difficult to understand how she creates sympathy for this character, but she does. The reader comes to understand that Lily has been created: "Inherited tendencies had combined with early training to make her the highly specialized product she was." Wharton is commenting on a level of society which turned young women into merchandise to be sold to the highest bidder. She speaks as an insider, having been a part of that milieu herself.

This novel tells an interesting and suspenseful story, but what makes it classic is the writing, which is elegant. (That's the most appropriate word for it that I can come up with.) The pace is slow, but the sentences are perfect, revealing so much through nuance and suggestion. This is not fast reading--I often had to read passages twice to understand what actually happened. Still, it more than rewards for time spent.

The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton is novel 69 on the Modern Library's Top 100 Novels of All Time list. What a bittersweet read! It started off slow, but really picked up midway through the novel.

We meet Lily Bart on her scandalous first visit to single Lawrence Selden's apartment. Despite her strong feelings for Lawrence, Lily refuses to allow herself to become attached to a man with so small a fortune. She finds herself torn between her love of luxuries and her desire to be truly happy in marriage. She seems to destroy her own chances when she ignores Percy Gryce, an eligible millionaire looking to marry the beautiful Miss Bart.

Once Percy Gryce marries another young lady in their social set, Lily finds herself in need of money to keep living her extravagant lifestyle. She turns to Gus, the husband of her best friend, Judy Trenor, for advice on stocks. Gus lies and tells Lily that her stocks have risen and gives her a thousand dollars. When it is released to her social group that Gus gave her a thousand dollars from his own pocket, Lily's relationships with her friends suffer greatly. Having turned down her true love - Lawrence Selden - due to his lack of funds, Lily finds herself in debt and miserable.

This story is not uplifting. It's mostly just sad. I wanted Lily to realize that her true feelings for Lawrence were more important than all the things she could ever buy, but she didn't until the novels end... when it was much too late for reconciliation. Sad, but interesting. It's not in my top 20 or even top 50, but an alright period piece for New York society circa 1890.

-Sarah
[...]

Great novel--very indicative of Edith Wharton. The essays about etiquette during her time period were very helpful, but some of the more recent analytical essays included with the novel were absurd. I think the over-scholarly nature of those essays add nothing to the Norton Critical Edition. Many were so esoteric that very few readers will understand them. Those writing articles should be contributing to the readers' understanding and appreciation of the novel, not trying to put that knowledge out of reach!

America and Europe of the 1800s were stiff, gilded, formal place, full of "old" families, rigid customs and social transgressions. Especially for women.

And nobody chronicled them better than Edith Wharton, who spun exquisitely barbed novels out of the social clashes of the late nineteenth century. "The House of Mirth" is one of her darker stories, where scandals and lack of conformity trigger a tragic downward spiral for a vibrant woman.

Like most not-so-rich women, Lily Bart is on the prowl for a marriage to keep her in luxury and affluent circles. What's more, she has a rapid intellect and striking looks, but she is also a habitual liar who defies society's strictures (she gambles and smokes). Her only friend is Lawrence Seldon, but she is determined not to marry for love alone.

Unfortunately, her schemes and plans start to collapse -- her adoring suitors either aren't rich enough, or her independent spirit sends her off. Her desperation becomes even more intense as she finds herself in the thick of a scandal, spun up by a malicious society matron to cover up her own affair. With her reputation in ruins, Lily's life spirals down into a new life of unemployment, poverty, and the final tragedy.

Edith Wharton always paid a lot of attention to a woman's restricted life in the Gilded Age, and how scandals, unconventionality and society's hypocrisy could ruin them. But "The House of Mirth" pays more attention to this than most -- it's a bleakly realistic story, unflinchingly showing Lily's slow descent into miserable loneliness.

Despite that, Wharton's writing is pure flowering poetry with a knack for evocation ("Her small pale face seemed the mere setting of a pair of dark exaggerated eyes"), and has a sensual quality with all the descriptions of silks, plants, soft light and luxurious mansions. And she vividly portrays the upper echelons of New York society at the time -- affairs, gossip and gilded salons -- as well as the restricted lives of women

But Wharton is just as capable of describing the darker, sadder world that Lily falls into ("... blurred the gaunt roof-lines, threw a mauve veil over the discouraging perspective of the side streets"). Sedoesn't pull any punches with the tragic finale, which has a distinct air of inevitability about it -- no fairy-tale last-minute save by a Prince Charming.

Lily starts out the book as a glimmering satellite of society, who can be rather selfish and cruel, but who nevertheless gains some sympathy for her terrible plight. The cruel, glittering society of the time had no room for women who stood outside the lines, especially if they tried to lie at all the wrong times. And so we see poor Lily, driven into miserable poverty and drug addiction.

"The House of Mirth" is anything but mirthful -- it's the study of a woman's slow downfall, and the cruel society that left her friendless and disgraced. Haunting and vivid.

I have always loved Edith Wharton and this book about Miss Lily Barton was sad but wonderful. Lily is part of "High Society" by birth and we get to see the various levels of High Society and who figures on what level - what type of character they are, what their morals are, what is important to them, etc. But, Lily falls from High Society and has to work - so, we get to see how "normal" people live, where they have to live, where they dine, where they work, etc. Lily Barton, even though she "falls from grace", keeps her grace about her by sticking to her morals and not selling out people she admires.

What a brilliantly beautiful, heartbreaking, gut-wrenching, soul-crushing book!

Poor Lily Bart. Everyone admired her, revered her, envied her, even adored her, but not one person loved her. Not even Lawrence Selden. Despite his protestations and her belief that he could save her. He could not save her; he adored her, but he did not truly love her.

Two scenes were salient to me: Lily's tableau at the Brys' and her final encounter with Selden. The first occurred at an opulent, society-impressing party. What was so striking about this scene was that all the other tableaux featured multiple women. Lily's alone was alone. And last. And all the tableaux featured the women grandly makeup and dressed, essentially themselves behind the characters they were portraying. Lily worm a plain white draping robe, a robe that did not conceal her true inner and outer nature, but revealed it. Selden responded to this transparency (he sent her a note asking to meet), but instead of meeting Lily, got caught up in the popular, malicious and envious gossip, and fled.

The second scene came toward the close of the book. Her road to degradation and poverty has been well-documented by Wharton and further discussed by the characters in the book. Lily. as if by instinct, turned one last time to Selden. She gave him one last chance to love her and to save her. Again, in this scene, she was completely transparent, her mask of composure removed. And again, Selden turned away. Instead of seeing her, he recalls the gossip. He does not love her. Not truly. And he cannot save her. She, instead, saves him.

At the end of the book, Selden declares that at least he had loved (past tense) her. But even here, his actions betray him. When he finds the unsealed enveloped addressed to Gus Trenor, he does not look to see what the envelope contains. Instead, he again believes the worst.

Not one of the men in the book could have saved Lily Bart, and, unfortunately, she was not brought up to know how to save herself.

A brilliant book. Witty, sad and uplifting. Wharton offers up themes that are still relevant today:position, status, envy appearance and of course, money. The book centers on friendship and betrayal and the difficulty of maintaining integrity in the face of social pressure. Lily Bart, beautiful, intelligent, kind and broke has been brought up to marry well. Although she attracts and fascinates many men (single and married) she realizes that she wants a deeper connection than a social one. The lawyer Seldon is also entranced by Lily and while she is attracted to him she is wary because he lacks the money and social status she has been brought up to expect. Lily serves as a companion to her married friends and to her aunt -- all of whom eventually betray her. Eventually, she is shut out of her aunt's home and forced to look for work. This is one of the most interesting parts of the book, as Wharton paints a frightening picture of the few options available to to well brought up women who are down on their luck and lack the skills to teach. We travel through the garment district with Lily as she models for a hat maker. We follow her on her downward spiral through jobs each more demeaning than the next and we go home with her in the evening to her sad, lonely and barren, boarding house. This book will stay with you long after you close its covers.

One should always be prepared when reading an Edith Wharton to know that the novel will not bring a happy ending. "The House of Mirth," Wharton's first literary success set the standard for the works that followed. It is a cautionary tale and an attack on the false social values that defined the frivolous early nineteenth century rich.

Miss Lily Bart is in her twenty-ninth year when the novel opens, still as beautiful as ever, but fearful of what the next years may bring. She has been raised in the lap of privilege, but to remain there, she must marry a rich husband, for she has no means of her own. Yet every time Lily has come close to satisfying this requirement, something causes her to shrink back. Call it conscience or call it the fact that she recognizes she couldn't truly be happy marrying for money, especially when she realizes she loves Lawrence Selden, a lawyer who awakens her soul, but whose love she fears she has lost forever. When Lily tries to shore up her future for herself, she finds herself unwittingly indebted to the husband of a friend who wants more in repayment than Lily is willing to offer. She is spectacularly cast out of the society that once made much of her and she suddenly finds herself virtually friendless, living a life she could have never imagined, but still determined to make good on her debts.

Wharton took the title from a passage in Ecclesiastes that warns, "...the heart of fools is in the house of mirth." Lily's entire life has prepared her for one course - marrying a rich man. Following this pursuit, Wharton is able to trace the ironies that were present in rich society: how money could virtually erase any problem, like marital indiscretions, or help one to achieve a higher social status. Lily laments time and again how unfair society is for women, but for all her solemnizing she is unable to change the fate that life has handed her, except in staying true to herself. One wishes for a happy ending for poor Lily Bart, but that would have been just as untrue to the character as it would have been to a work by Wharton.

This is the story of a job-seeker who cannot bring herself to stoop to the compromising actions that her career requires, but also cannot leave the perks that that career brings. Lily Bart was educated to be ornamental and to reign in high society -- once she netted the appropriate husband. If this book were a simple morality tale, then Our Heroline would swear she'd rather live as a poor man's wife rather than marry a rich man whom she could barely stand. But the story is richer than that. Lily is quite reconciled to marrying for money -- at least, in her head she is. But she keeps having flashes of high character which keep her from closing the deal with Mr. Megabucks. Yet those flashes never last long enough to enable her to truly free herself and to stop being, effectively, an upper-class snob. And so she struggles to reconcile the need to make a living with both her desires and her morals.

Lily is interesting to get to know. She is not the "victim" sort of personality: she is clever and quite aware of what she is seeking and how to get it. Yet she is sincere enough to keep you rooting for her.

In some ways, this story has parallels to stories of poor girls who are trying to make their way in life but are hindered and sometimes crushed by the societal strictures on their gender. Yet Lily is from the highest social class, and it is with that class that she identifies throughout this book. The reader cannot be too hung up on that; s/he must not roll the eyes and say, my don't the super-fine have problems in this life. If the reader is to feel sympathy with Lily -- and she is highly sympathetic -- one must see her as a human being struggling against her great flaws, or as a woman who was too narrowly educated in life to succeed well. Money, after all, does not buy happiness.

Edith Wharton. She gets me every time. I know I should expect it and she shouldn't be able to surprise me, but she does.

People do not write like this anymore. If they did, publishers would reject it or send it back saying, "Remove flowery language and cut some details." But that is what makes the story so moving. Wharton's lyrical language is entrancing enough and into it she weaves a story that pierces your heart.

The House of Mirth follows the life of Lily Bart, a young woman with dreams of escalating the rungs of the New York society ladder around the year 1900. Throughout the book I was torn between adoring her, pitying her, and feeling that she was getting what she deserved. Lily is no two-dimensional character. She is vain, but she is kind. She is ambitious but self-controlled. She is willing to learn from her mistakes, a loyal friend, and refuses to speak against others even if it would be true. Unfortunately, she also makes some horrible decisions, is naïve, and does not open her heart up to the right people.

Lily spends a very long time searching for Mr. Right - someone who is rich and she could tolerate living with. A decision made for love is not one that she has been trained to make. The intolerance of society and shallowness of her friendships is made clear to her, but she hesitates to rely on those who truly love her.

The end was shocking, heart-wrenching, and so very Wharton-like. This book reminded me of another favorite of mine, Villette by Charlotte Bronte. It is one that will stay with you, floating around in your head as though you might be able to dash in and make something happen differently.

America and Europe of the 1800s were stiff, gilded, formal place, full of "old" families, rigid customs and social transgressions. Especially for women.

And nobody chronicled them better than Edith Wharton, who spun exquisitely barbed novels out of the social clashes of the late nineteenth century. "The House of Mirth" is one of her darker stories, where scandals and lack of conformity trigger a tragic downward spiral for a vibrant woman.

Like most not-so-rich women, Lily Bart is on the prowl for a marriage to keep her in luxury and affluent circles. What's more, she has a rapid intellect and striking looks, but she is also a habitual liar who defies society's strictures (she gambles and smokes). Her only friend is Lawrence Seldon, but she is determined not to marry for love alone.

Unfortunately, her schemes and plans start to collapse -- her adoring suitors either aren't rich enough, or her independent spirit sends her off. Her desperation becomes even more intense as she finds herself in the thick of a scandal, spun up by a malicious society matron to cover up her own affair. With her reputation in ruins, Lily's life spirals down into a new life of unemployment, poverty, and the final tragedy.

Edith Wharton always paid a lot of attention to a woman's restricted life in the Gilded Age, and how scandals, unconventionality and society's hypocrisy could ruin them. But "The House of Mirth" pays more attention to this than most -- it's a bleakly realistic story, unflinchingly showing Lily's slow descent into miserable loneliness.

Despite that, Wharton's writing is pure flowering poetry with a knack for evocation ("Her small pale face seemed the mere setting of a pair of dark exaggerated eyes"), and has a sensual quality with all the descriptions of silks, plants, soft light and luxurious mansions. And she vividly portrays the upper echelons of New York society at the time -- affairs, gossip and gilded salons -- as well as the restricted lives of women

But Wharton is just as capable of describing the darker, sadder world that Lily falls into ("... blurred the gaunt roof-lines, threw a mauve veil over the discouraging perspective of the side streets"). Sedoesn't pull any punches with the tragic finale, which has a distinct air of inevitability about it -- no fairy-tale last-minute save by a Prince Charming.

Lily starts out the book as a glimmering satellite of society, who can be rather selfish and cruel, but who nevertheless gains some sympathy for her terrible plight. The cruel, glittering society of the time had no room for women who stood outside the lines, especially if they tried to lie at all the wrong times. And so we see poor Lily, driven into miserable poverty and drug addiction.

"The House of Mirth" is anything but mirthful -- it's the study of a woman's slow downfall, and the cruel society that left her friendless and disgraced. Haunting and vivid.

With "The House of Mirth", Edith Wharton has brought the English Society Novel- dinner parties, oppressive social conventions, gossip, vacations in the country- and brought it to America. Proving that the New World could be as vacant and idle as England's most indulgent families, Wharton creates a world in which success has as much to do with who you know and how well you play cards socially as it does with anything resembling real talent or skill.
The eye of this novel's social hurricane is Lily Bart, a beautiful and intelligent woman who's obsession with marriage and social status forces her to make decisions that drive her life in a direction that seems at odds with who she really is. "The House of Mirth" is essentially a seemingly endless series of social gatherings and holiday retreats, in which Lily tries to climb the rungs of society's ladder but finds herself two steps back for every one step forward. Of course, Lily's true love, the man we all know is best for her, appears in the first chapter and engages in an on again/off again flirtation with her reminiscent of a Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan movie (i.e. we don't know until the last scene if they get together or not!)
Ushering American fiction into the 20th century, "The House of Mirth" announces to the world that the United States is all grown up. Wharton proves it with her writing, and the story she weaves stands up against the best of England's Country Manor dramas.

The author's writing style, as well as her subject matter, reminded me of Jane Austen. Perhaps it's simply something about older books, but I found the writing unusually formal. This definitely wasn't something that kept me from enjoying the writing though. I was still drawn into the plot, able to visualize the locations and feel for the characters. The only part of the writing I didn't like was the attention to social details required to understand all the plot points. Especially at the beginning, I sometimes felt sure I was missing something! This is a problem not with the author's writing (since she wrote for her contemporaries) but a problem of book version. And my book version (the penguin classics version), had unnecessary footnotes describing locations and a few useful word definitions but provided little social context.

The characters were definitely intriguing, in part because their motivations were so entirely different from anything in my experience. I was always curious about what they might do next! What at the end kept me from liking this book more was that I often didn't like what they did next. I think I might have been able to like Lily even though she wanted to marry for money if she'd just seriously gone for it. Instead, her indecision ended up depriving her of a marriage for money or a marriage for love. Even worse, things frequently almost worked out and some little twist of fate caused everything to go wrong. Situations like that, where simple chance ruins everything, are one of my pet peeves in movies and books. They're just too frustrating! In this case, the book was good enough to keep me reading past all of the bits where things almost worked out in hopes it would get better. But when it ended on the same note, with a so very nearly happy ending, it left me feeling dissatisfied with the whole book. If you're ok with unhappy endings and don't share my hatred for cruel twists of fate, the book was well written enough that I'd recommend it much more highly.

America and Europe of the 1800s were stiff, gilded, formal place, full of "old" families, rigid customs and social transgressions. Especially for women.

And nobody chronicled them better than Edith Wharton, who spun exquisitely barbed novels out of the social clashes of the late nineteenth century. "The House of Mirth" is one of her darker stories, where scandals and lack of conformity trigger a tragic downward spiral for a vibrant woman.

Like most not-so-rich women, Lily Bart is on the prowl for a marriage to keep her in luxury and affluent circles. What's more, she has a rapid intellect and striking looks, but she is also a habitual liar who defies society's strictures (she gambles and smokes). Her only friend is Lawrence Seldon, but she is determined not to marry for love alone.

Unfortunately, her schemes and plans start to collapse -- her adoring suitors either aren't rich enough, or her independent spirit sends her off. Her desperation becomes even more intense as she finds herself in the thick of a scandal, spun up by a malicious society matron to cover up her own affair. With her reputation in ruins, Lily's life spirals down into a new life of unemployment, poverty, and the final tragedy.

Edith Wharton always paid a lot of attention to a woman's restricted life in the Gilded Age, and how scandals, unconventionality and society's hypocrisy could ruin them. But "The House of Mirth" pays more attention to this than most -- it's a bleakly realistic story, unflinchingly showing Lily's slow descent into miserable loneliness.

Despite that, Wharton's writing is pure flowering poetry with a knack for evocation ("Her small pale face seemed the mere setting of a pair of dark exaggerated eyes"), and has a sensual quality with all the descriptions of silks, plants, soft light and luxurious mansions. And she vividly portrays the upper echelons of New York society at the time -- affairs, gossip and gilded salons -- as well as the restricted lives of women

But Wharton is just as capable of describing the darker, sadder world that Lily falls into ("... blurred the gaunt roof-lines, threw a mauve veil over the discouraging perspective of the side streets"). Sedoesn't pull any punches with the tragic finale, which has a distinct air of inevitability about it -- no fairy-tale last-minute save by a Prince Charming.

Lily starts out the book as a glimmering satellite of society, who can be rather selfish and cruel, but who nevertheless gains some sympathy for her terrible plight. The cruel, glittering society of the time had no room for women who stood outside the lines, especially if they tried to lie at all the wrong times. And so we see poor Lily, driven into miserable poverty and drug addiction.

"The House of Mirth" is anything but mirthful -- it's the study of a woman's slow downfall, and the cruel society that left her friendless and disgraced. Haunting and vivid.

As the product of a generation that has never seen a world without Internet access I'm ashamed to say I've made a habit of never giving classic novels a second glance. In fact, a few years ago I checked out this book along with a copy of To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf - and after quickly growing bored with To The Lighthouse I gave up on The House of Mirth as well, assuming that it would be tedious and difficult to read and, most of all, something I could never relate to. I couldn't have been more wrong. The story of Lily Bart is truly timeless. In a way, all well-written novels are timeless because no matter what the time or setting is, human nature never changes. If the characters are relatable then I can put myself in their place and learn their world. Admittedly I knew nothing of 1890's New York society, but through the trying yet endearing Lily Bart I ended this book feeling as if her world were my own. There were many times when I saw characteristics of myself in Lily and could feel the weariness of her situation, and - as another reviewer put it - I finished the book feeling as if Lily were a good friend of mine.

Edith Wharton is an incredibly gifted storyteller, though I imagine she was something of a living thesaurus. She has a vast vocabulary that sent me to Dictionary.com more than a few times. Her sentence structure was confusing at first but I quickly got used to it. It is definitely a novel that you have to read in a quiet place with a clear head because it is easy to get lost. In truth, it didn't bring me to the edge of my seat until over half-way through - but I was so connected to the characters that I hardly minded the easier pace of the first half.

I would recommend this to anyone. Give it a chance, even if classic novels aren't normally your thing. I only wish I had read it sooner.

Edith Wharton's extraordinary rendition of an upper class women's steady and inexorable decline into poverty and oblivion is moving, tragic and as beautifully wrought as fine calligraphy. Sophisticated, witty and handsome, Lily Bart, until her father's bankruptcy, fully expected to be one of society's most admired ornaments. Reduced circumstances however don't reduce Lily's high standards and there is something too exacting about an aging debutante with unreasonable expectations. Lily can't quite stoop to reel in the rather ridiculous but sufficiently wealthy Percy Gryce who can afford to keep her but never please her. Nor will she deign to defend herself against the catty and vicious attacks of other society ladies. It is this sense of superiority without the armor fortune provides that is her downfall. Noble, dignified and perfectly proper Lily is doomed in a society where the veneer just barely covers every member's willingness to get their hands dirty now and then to achieve their goals. Whether it is slandering an opponent, covering up an affair or just elbowing your way to the front of the line the survivors in New York society are the one's who are unafraid to get down and dirty when their lives depend upon it.

Wharton is pitch perfect in her depiction of Society's grandees--she should be having come from and moved in that circle all her life. And first and foremost The House of Mirth is a novel of manners. But it is also a beautiful study of realism--a women who refuses to engage the world as it is but pretends to the very bitter end, it and she are finer than they really are. A marvelous achievement.

If you ever want to do a complete review of American literature by only reading two books then do what I just did: read *Pimp - The Story of My Life* by Iceberg Slim and immediately follow it with *The House of Mirth* by Edith Wharton.

You get everything there is in just two books - racially you cant get much blacker than Iceberg Slim and they don't get much whiter than Edith Wharton. Likewise you have extremes of masculinity and femininity; and PTSOML is as raw, intuitive, and visceral as THOM is sophisticated, elegant, and erudite. And while Iceberg Slim tries to use at least one esoteric slang word per page, Edith Wharton uses at least one high school "Honors English" level vocabulary word per page.

Well that's interesting but I guess this is not much of a review so far. Basically THOM is a tragic Victorian novel set in very early 20th Century New York. It was a little difficult for me to relate to these spoiled American gentry - where do these people get their incomes from anyway? At one point the unthinkable happens - Lily Bart (our heroine) has to actually get a job! (And it gets worse from there, I'm afraid to say.)

There were a couple of likable characters in the book (notably Lily and Selden) but overall I'd sum it up by stating that this 350 page book seemed more like 700 pages. The book did a tremendous job of transporting me to a different time and place, and presented a a unique world view through the eyes of Lily Bart. There are few things I don't understand about the novel, however - like how did it work out that Lily ended up owing all that money to Trenor when she thought it was a return on her investment? I missed something there. And why did she buy those letters from the maid without even mentioning that they weren't written by her?

Edith Wharton. She gets me every time. I know I should expect it and she shouldn't be able to surprise me, but she does.

People do not write like this anymore. If they did, publishers would reject it or send it back saying, "Remove flowery language and cut some details." But that is what makes the story so moving. Wharton's lyrical language is entrancing enough and into it she weaves a story that pierces your heart.

The House of Mirth follows the life of Lily Bart, a young woman with dreams of escalating the rungs of the New York society ladder around the year 1900. Throughout the book I was torn between adoring her, pitying her, and feeling that she was getting what she deserved. Lily is no two-dimensional character. She is vain, but she is kind. She is ambitious but self-controlled. She is willing to learn from her mistakes, a loyal friend, and refuses to speak against others even if it would be true. Unfortunately, she also makes some horrible decisions, is naïve, and does not open her heart up to the right people.

Lily spends a very long time searching for Mr. Right - someone who is rich and she could tolerate living with. A decision made for love is not one that she has been trained to make. The intolerance of society and shallowness of her friendships is made clear to her, but she hesitates to rely on those who truly love her.

The end was shocking, heart-wrenching, and so very Wharton-like. This book reminded me of another favorite of mine, Villette by Charlotte Bronte. It is one that will stay with you, floating around in your head as though you might be able to dash in and make something happen differently.

America and Europe of the 1800s were stiff, gilded, formal place, full of "old" families, rigid customs and social transgressions. Especially for women.

And nobody chronicled them better than Edith Wharton, who spun exquisitely barbed novels out of the social clashes of the late nineteenth century. "The House of Mirth" is one of her darker stories, where scandals and lack of conformity trigger a tragic downward spiral for a vibrant woman.

Like most not-so-rich women, Lily Bart is on the prowl for a marriage to keep her in luxury and affluent circles. What's more, she has a rapid intellect and striking looks, but she is also a habitual liar who defies society's strictures (she gambles and smokes). Her only friend is Lawrence Seldon, but she is determined not to marry for love alone.

Unfortunately, her schemes and plans start to collapse -- her adoring suitors either aren't rich enough, or her independent spirit sends her off. Her desperation becomes even more intense as she finds herself in the thick of a scandal, spun up by a malicious society matron to cover up her own affair. With her reputation in ruins, Lily's life spirals down into a new life of unemployment, poverty, and the final tragedy.

Edith Wharton always paid a lot of attention to a woman's restricted life in the Gilded Age, and how scandals, unconventionality and society's hypocrisy could ruin them. But "The House of Mirth" pays more attention to this than most -- it's a bleakly realistic story, unflinchingly showing Lily's slow descent into miserable loneliness.

Despite that, Wharton's writing is pure flowering poetry with a knack for evocation ("Her small pale face seemed the mere setting of a pair of dark exaggerated eyes"), and has a sensual quality with all the descriptions of silks, plants, soft light and luxurious mansions. And she vividly portrays the upper echelons of New York society at the time -- affairs, gossip and gilded salons -- as well as the restricted lives of women

But Wharton is just as capable of describing the darker, sadder world that Lily falls into ("... blurred the gaunt roof-lines, threw a mauve veil over the discouraging perspective of the side streets"). Sedoesn't pull any punches with the tragic finale, which has a distinct air of inevitability about it -- no fairy-tale last-minute save by a Prince Charming.

Lily starts out the book as a glimmering satellite of society, who can be rather selfish and cruel, but who nevertheless gains some sympathy because she just doesn't deserve everything that happens. The cruel, glittering society of the time had no room for women who stood outside the lines, and Lily's slow downward spiral is an illustration of this -- she's driven into miserable poverty and drug addiction. Lovely.

"The House of Mirth" is anything but mirthful -- it's the study of a woman's slow downfall, and the cruel society that left her friendless and disgraced. Haunting and vivid.

With "The House of Mirth", Edith Wharton has brought the English Society Novel- dinner parties, oppressive social conventions, gossip, vacations in the country- and brought it to America. Proving that the New World could be as vacant and idle as England's most indulgent families, Wharton creates a world in which success has as much to do with who you know and how well you play cards socially as it does with anything resembling real talent or skill.
The eye of this novel's social hurricane is Lily Bart, a beautiful and intelligent woman who's obsession with marriage and social status forces her to make decisions that drive her life in a direction that seems at odds with who she really is. "The House of Mirth" is essentially a seemingly endless series of social gatherings and holiday retreats, in which Lily tries to climb the rungs of society's ladder but finds herself two steps back for every one step forward. Of course, Lily's true love, the man we all know is best for her, appears in the first chapter and engages in an on again/off again flirtation with her reminiscent of a Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan movie (i.e. we don't know until the last scene if they get together or not!)
Ushering American fiction into the 20th century, "The House of Mirth" announces to the world that the United States is all grown up. Wharton proves it with her writing, and the story she weaves stands up against the best of England's Country Manor dramas.

The author's writing style, as well as her subject matter, reminded me of Jane Austen. Perhaps it's simply something about older books, but I found the writing unusually formal. This definitely wasn't something that kept me from enjoying the writing though. I was still drawn into the plot, able to visualize the locations and feel for the characters. The only part of the writing I didn't like was the attention to social details required to understand all the plot points. Especially at the beginning, I sometimes felt sure I was missing something! This is a problem not with the author's writing (since she wrote for her contemporaries) but a problem of book version. And my book version (the penguin classics version), had unnecessary footnotes describing locations and a few useful word definitions but provided little social context.

The characters were definitely intriguing, in part because their motivations were so entirely different from anything in my experience. I was always curious about what they might do next! What at the end kept me from liking this book more was that I often didn't like what they did next. I think I might have been able to like Lily even though she wanted to marry for money if she'd just seriously gone for it. Instead, her indecision ended up depriving her of a marriage for money or a marriage for love. Even worse, things frequently almost worked out and some little twist of fate caused everything to go wrong. Situations like that, where simple chance ruins everything, are one of my pet peeves in movies and books. They're just too frustrating! In this case, the book was good enough to keep me reading past all of the bits where things almost worked out in hopes it would get better. But when it ended on the same note, with a so very nearly happy ending, it left me feeling dissatisfied with the whole book. If you're ok with unhappy endings and don't share my hatred for cruel twists of fate, the book was well written enough that I'd recommend it much more highly.

America and Europe of the 1800s were stiff, gilded, formal place, full of "old" families, rigid customs and social transgressions. Especially for women.

And nobody chronicled them better than Edith Wharton, who spun exquisitely barbed novels out of the social clashes of the late nineteenth century. "The House of Mirth" is one of her darker stories, where scandals and lack of conformity trigger a tragic downward spiral for a vibrant woman.

Like most not-so-rich women, Lily Bart is on the prowl for a marriage to keep her in luxury and affluent circles. What's more, she has a rapid intellect and striking looks, but she is also a habitual liar who defies society's strictures (she gambles and smokes). Her only friend is Lawrence Seldon, but she is determined not to marry for love alone.

Unfortunately, her schemes and plans start to collapse -- her adoring suitors either aren't rich enough, or her independent spirit sends her off. Her desperation becomes even more intense as she finds herself in the thick of a scandal, spun up by a malicious society matron to cover up her own affair. With her reputation in ruins, Lily's life spirals down into a new life of unemployment, poverty, and the final tragedy.

Edith Wharton always paid a lot of attention to a woman's restricted life in the Gilded Age, and how scandals, unconventionality and society's hypocrisy could ruin them. But "The House of Mirth" pays more attention to this than most -- it's a bleakly realistic story, unflinchingly showing Lily's slow descent into miserable loneliness.

Despite that, Wharton's writing is pure flowering poetry with a knack for evocation ("Her small pale face seemed the mere setting of a pair of dark exaggerated eyes"), and has a sensual quality with all the descriptions of silks, plants, soft light and luxurious mansions. And she vividly portrays the upper echelons of New York society at the time -- affairs, gossip and gilded salons -- as well as the restricted lives of women

But Wharton is just as capable of describing the darker, sadder world that Lily falls into ("... blurred the gaunt roof-lines, threw a mauve veil over the discouraging perspective of the side streets"). Sedoesn't pull any punches with the tragic finale, which has a distinct air of inevitability about it -- no fairy-tale last-minute save by a Prince Charming.

Lily starts out the book as a glimmering satellite of society, who can be rather selfish and cruel, but who nevertheless gains some sympathy because she just doesn't deserve everything that happens. The cruel, glittering society of the time had no room for women who stood outside the lines, and Lily's slow downward spiral is an illustration of this -- she's driven into miserable poverty and drug addiction. Lovely.

"The House of Mirth" is anything but mirthful -- it's the study of a woman's slow downfall, and the cruel society that left her friendless and disgraced. Haunting and vivid.

As the product of a generation that has never seen a world without Internet access I'm ashamed to say I've made a habit of never giving classic novels a second glance. In fact, a few years ago I checked out this book along with a copy of To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf - and after quickly growing bored with To The Lighthouse I gave up on The House of Mirth as well, assuming that it would be tedious and difficult to read and, most of all, something I could never relate to. I couldn't have been more wrong. The story of Lily Bart is truly timeless. In a way, all well-written novels are timeless because no matter what the time or setting is, human nature never changes. If the characters are relatable then I can put myself in their place and learn their world. Admittedly I knew nothing of 1890's New York society, but through the trying yet endearing Lily Bart I ended this book feeling as if her world were my own. There were many times when I saw characteristics of myself in Lily and could feel the weariness of her situation, and - as another reviewer put it - I finished the book feeling as if Lily were a good friend of mine.

Edith Wharton is an incredibly gifted storyteller, though I imagine she was something of a living thesaurus. She has a vast vocabulary that sent me to Dictionary.com more than a few times. Her sentence structure was confusing at first but I quickly got used to it. It is definitely a novel that you have to read in a quiet place with a clear head because it is easy to get lost. In truth, it didn't bring me to the edge of my seat until over half-way through - but I was so connected to the characters that I hardly minded the easier pace of the first half.

I would recommend this to anyone. Give it a chance, even if classic novels aren't normally your thing. I only wish I had read it sooner.

Edith Wharton's extraordinary rendition of an upper class women's steady and inexorable decline into poverty and oblivion is moving, tragic and as beautifully wrought as fine calligraphy. Sophisticated, witty and handsome, Lily Bart, until her father's bankruptcy, fully expected to be one of society's most admired ornaments. Reduced circumstances however don't reduce Lily's high standards and there is something too exacting about an aging debutante with unreasonable expectations. Lily can't quite stoop to reel in the rather ridiculous but sufficiently wealthy Percy Gryce who can afford to keep her but never please her. Nor will she deign to defend herself against the catty and vicious attacks of other society ladies. It is this sense of superiority without the armor fortune provides that is her downfall. Noble, dignified and perfectly proper Lily is doomed in a society where the veneer just barely covers every member's willingness to get their hands dirty now and then to achieve their goals. Whether it is slandering an opponent, covering up an affair or just elbowing your way to the front of the line the survivors in New York society are the one's who are unafraid to get down and dirty when their lives depend upon it.

Wharton is pitch perfect in her depiction of Society's grandees--she should be having come from and moved in that circle all her life. And first and foremost The House of Mirth is a novel of manners. But it is also a beautiful study of realism--a women who refuses to engage the world as it is but pretends to the very bitter end, it and she are finer than they really are. A marvelous achievement.

If you ever want to do a complete review of American literature by only reading two books then do what I just did: read *Pimp - The Story of My Life* by Iceberg Slim and immediately follow it with *The House of Mirth* by Edith Wharton.

You get everything there is in just two books - racially you cant get much blacker than Iceberg Slim and they don't get much whiter than Edith Wharton. Likewise you have extremes of masculinity and femininity; and PTSOML is as raw, intuitive, and visceral as THOM is sophisticated, elegant, and erudite. And while Iceberg Slim tries to use at least one esoteric slang word per page, Edith Wharton uses at least one high school "Honors English" level vocabulary word per page.

Well that's interesting but I guess this is not much of a review so far. Basically THOM is a tragic Victorian novel set in very early 20th Century New York. It was a little difficult for me to relate to these spoiled American gentry - where do these people get their incomes from anyway? At one point the unthinkable happens - Lily Bart (our heroine) has to actually get a job! (And it gets worse from there, I'm afraid to say.)

There were a couple of likable characters in the book (notably Lily and Selden) but overall I'd sum it up by stating that this 350 page book seemed more like 700 pages. The book did a tremendous job of transporting me to a different time and place, and presented a a unique world view through the eyes of Lily Bart. There are few things I don't understand about the novel, however - like how did it work out that Lily ended up owing all that money to Trenor when she thought it was a return on her investment? I missed something there. And why did she buy those letters from the maid without even mentioning that they weren't written by her?

Reading The House of Mirth today, it's easy to overlook the obvious: that it was not written as a "period piece," but as a modern novel. Readers can get so caught up in the early 20th Century details (the Edwardian-era clothing, the carriages, both horseless and horse-drawn, the elaborate social rituals), that they tend to forget that for Wharton and her first readers this story had all the timeliness of, say, Sex and the City, a book which will probably seem just as dated as Wharton's by the 22nd Century, and less well written.

What Wharton set out to do, and did so effectively in the final analysis, was to present a picture of a then "modern woman," one endowed with beauty and intelligence, placed in a privileged yet precarious position, and to show how a tragic combination of character and circumstance could lead her from the promise of a glittering future to her ultimate degradation and destruction.

Lily Bart, the woman at the center of the novel, was modern in the sense that she was a product of both her era and her social class when the novel was published in 1905. Born and raised on the fringes of upper-class New York society before the turn of the last century, yet orphaned young without inherited wealth, she was expected and prepared to be the wife of a wealthy gentleman. Though refined in the moral as well the esthetic sense, she was prized by her society primarily as an ornament. A beautiful ornament, it's true, but so long as she remained unmarried her "mission" in life could never be considered fulfilled, despite her numerous and varied attributes.

Lily is 29 at the novel's start, and in that era dangerously close to becoming an old maid. The longer a woman in such a situation remained unwed, the more exposed she was to unfavorable or even vicious comments from those whom she most needed to ingratiate herself with in order to maintain a place in their charmed circles and to marry well. A woman in Lily's circumstances could ill afford to be considered too independent, or too careless of her reputation, as she belatedly discovered.

When, through a series of costly reversals, brought about either by accident (Wharton's novel is filled with momentous chance encounters), or due to her own proclivity to sabotage the advances of her prosperous suitors, Lily is cast out of "polite society" and ultimately forced to earn a living through manual labor, she discovers how unprepared she is for what she considers the "dingy" side of life. And not mere dinginess and toil, but the prospect of poverty and abject humiliation are what she faces as the novel nears its conclusion.

A sharp descent indeed for someone who started out so near the pinnacle of worldly success, and was so intimately received by those that had already achieved it.

When today's readers encounter Lily and her plight in Wharton's novel, there may be an urge to dismiss this story as unrelated to our modern society, where social rules are not so inflexible, and women (in most cases) are routinely expected to be able to earn their own living. But Wharton was not a reporter, she was a gifted novelist, and her tale of a character trapped in an infernal machine from which she can find no escape still has the power to move us deeply. Beyond the period details, The House of Mirth offers us a believable story in which a character struggles to survive a catastrophe partly of her own making, and partly of others'. Such a tragic tale, so skillfully narrated, is timeless.

New York in the Gilded Age provides the backdrop for one of literature's most complex and tragic heriones: Miss Lily Bart. The beautiful Miss Bart is an impoverished but genteel young woman, trying to keep up appearances until she can make a suitable (and wealthy) marriage. For Miss Bart knows that only money can buy the luxury and beauty her spirit craves. To her, sumptuous surroundings and elegant clothes are not merely acquisitions, but oxygen for her ethereal soul. Ironically, this very soul consistently clashes with the mercenary arts required to achieve great wealth. The hunt for money degrades and depresses the imaginative Miss Bart, leading her to forgo several offers of marriage. As one character puts it: "Because, at heart, she despises the things she's trying for." As her youth slips by, desperation emerges in Miss Bart, leading to compromising situations and ultimately social fall.

Edith Warton has created a complex, contradictory character in Miss Bart, but one who is ultimately very human and able to evoke our continuing hope and empathy. The surrounding cast of superficial, self-interested society people are just as masterfully painted. The prose is laden with description and emotion. House of Mirth is a masterpiece, the literary equivalent of a Dutch Master still life painting; there are rich, dark colours, carefully arranged detail and above all, sheer beauty.

"The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth" says Ecclesiastes, the source of Edith Wharton's deceptive title. Mirth and mourning, the two masks over a theater stage; Wharton pays homage to both. Book One, just over half the length of this substantial novel, is a glittering social comedy played out in turn-of-the-century New York drawing rooms and the country retreats of the very rich. Though not rich herself, Miss Lily Bart is well connected, and her extraordinary beauty gives her easy access to these charmed circles, where wealthy men clamor for her attention. Raised to the expectation of making a brilliant match, it is now high time she did so, for she is already twenty-nine.

The curtain rises on an even more extravagant setting for Book Two, the yachts and casinos of Monte Carlo. But its trajectory will take a tragic turn, as Lily will be forced to pay for some apparently trivial mistakes in the first part, and sink ever lower in the social scale. The fickle world of fashion was one that Wharton knew well because, like Lily, she had grown up on the fringes of it. Such people, she said, "always rest on an underpinning of wasted human possibilities"; Lily's story is at heart a tragedy of waste.

Though Wharton ends the book perilously close to American moralizing realists such as Norris and Dreiser, for the first three quarters she occupies a brilliant territory somewhere between Trollope and Fitzgerald. You can easily imagine Trollope writing of one character's concern, in planning a dinner party for the local rector, "that no divorcées were included, except those who had showed signs of penitence by being remarried to the very wealthy." For this is a world of masks. So long as appearances are kept up, all sorts of adulteries and dodgy financial dealings may take place behind the scenes. For all her sophistication, Lily remains an innocent, condemned by society for things she has not done. She will be brought down because another woman's willingness to lie is greater than her own to tell a truth that would harm someone else.

Yet some of the blame must still attach to her. At the very beginning of the book, she bumps into a good friend, Lawrence Selden, a bachelor lawyer who moves occasionally in similar circles, and makes the mistake of taking tea alone in his rooms -- a mistake that unfortunately has been observed. It is a social blunder rather than a moral one, yet propriety is everything in a world of appearances. The true moral crux is that there is clearly love between Lily and Selden, and she repeatedly postpones it. High society and the pursuit of wealth mean too much. Whether this is her own failing or the product of her upbringing is almost irrelevant; when the mask is more important than the person behind it, even the most glittering of comedies will turn to tragedy.

America and Europe of the 1800s were stiff, gilded, formal place, full of "old" families, rigid customs and social transgressions. Especially for women.

And nobody chronicled them better than Edith Wharton, who spun exquisitely barbed novels out of the social clashes of the late nineteenth century. "The House of Mirth" is one of her darker stories, where scandals and lack of conformity trigger a tragic downward spiral for a vibrant woman.

Like most not-so-rich women, Lily Bart is on the prowl for a marriage to keep her in luxury and affluent circles. What's more, she has a rapid intellect and striking looks, but she is also a habitual liar who defies society's strictures (she gambles and smokes). Her only friend is Lawrence Seldon, but she is determined not to marry for love alone.

Unfortunately, her schemes and plans start to collapse -- her adoring suitors either aren't rich enough, or her independent spirit sends her off. Her desperation becomes even more intense as she finds herself in the thick of a scandal, spun up by a malicious society matron to cover up her own affair. With her reputation in ruins, Lily's life spirals down into a new life of unemployment, poverty, and the final tragedy.

Edith Wharton always paid a lot of attention to a woman's restricted life in the Gilded Age, and how scandals, unconventionality and society's hypocrisy could ruin them. But "The House of Mirth" pays more attention to this than most -- it's a bleakly realistic story, unflinchingly showing Lily's slow descent into miserable loneliness.

Despite that, Wharton's writing is pure flowering poetry with a knack for evocation ("Her small pale face seemed the mere setting of a pair of dark exaggerated eyes"), and has a sensual quality with all the descriptions of silks, plants, soft light and luxurious mansions. And she vividly portrays the upper echelons of New York society at the time -- affairs, gossip and gilded salons -- as well as the restricted lives of women

But Wharton is just as capable of describing the darker, sadder world that Lily falls into ("... blurred the gaunt roof-lines, threw a mauve veil over the discouraging perspective of the side streets"). Sedoesn't pull any punches with the tragic finale, which has a distinct air of inevitability about it -- no fairy-tale last-minute save by a Prince Charming.

Lily starts out the book as a glimmering satellite of society, who can be rather selfish and cruel, but who nevertheless gains some sympathy because she just doesn't deserve everything that happens. The cruel, glittering society of the time had no room for women who stood outside the lines, and Lily's slow downward spiral is an illustration of this -- she's driven into miserable poverty and drug addiction. Lovely.

"The House of Mirth" is anything but mirthful -- it's the study of a woman's slow downfall, and the cruel society that left her friendless and disgraced. Haunting and vivid.

Reading The House of Mirth is like watching an exquisite crystal glass slowly chip, then crack, then break, then shatter right before your eyes. It is the story of Lily Bart and, like most of Edith Wharton's books, is set in the upper-upper classes of New York City at the turn of the 20th century. It is not Wharton's settings that I am drawn to; upper class Old New York, with its superficiality, preoccupation with wealth and status, and its strictly-proscribed social behaviors, is a world so foreign to my own that it's almost like reading about life on Mars. It was the world Edith Wharton inhabited, and yet her exquisite but brutal honesty in portraying it is evidence that she wasn't enamored of it, either.

What draws me to Edith Wharton's books are two things. First of all, her ability to probe the frailties of her characters and tap into the universal human themes of love, hate, jealousy, loneliness, revenge, etc. etc. is among the most skilled of any writer I have ever read. In Lily Bart, in particular, she created a heroine that I identified and empathized with from the first page. Her struggles, her desires, and her missteps resonated with me as few literary heroines have. I felt almost as though I were reading about myself, had I lived during the place and time of The House of Mirth.

Secondly, I am drawn to Edith Wharton's books because they are bittersweet (even tragic, as in the case of The House of Mirth) tales. I much prefer such books to those with syrupy, happily-ever-after endings, although I admit I couldn't make a steady diet of them (too depressing). As I alluded to in my opening analogy of the shattering crystal glass, The House of Mirth is a tale of the slow, gradual destruction of Lily Bart. She is a young woman who simply wants the life of comfort, ease and affluence which she was raised and trained for. The story opens when she is 29 and unhappily still unmarried at that ripe old age, in spite of her significant beauty and charm. However, as the story progresses the reader realizes that it is largely Lily's own fault that she is still single, and with financial constraints looming larger and larger over her. Yes, she wants a life of wealth and ease, but she also wants a marriage based on true love and compatibility; it is her inability to reconcile these two (and perhaps it was impossible to reconcile them in the world in which she lived) that has sabotaged every opportunity she has had. She has ruined (and continues to ruin throughout the story) every opportunity for marriage to wealth because she wasn't attracted to the suitor; she ruins her opportunity for marriage to a true soulmate because such a marriage would have lacked the financial security she wanted. What makes it particularly tragic is that Lily frequently has periods of clear-sightedness where she sees the mistakes she has made, but they always come too late after the damage has been done.

Finally, it is society itself that destroys Lily, with its slavish devotion to wealth and status and those who possess such. Lily's friends -- one in particular -- use her for their own purposes and then discard her. And although the rest of society knows, or least suspects, Lily's innocence, the woman who has scorned her is such a holder of wealth and status and power that the rest of society follows her lead, turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to Lily's fate.

If you like happy tales then you probably won't like Edith Wharton's works. However, I find myself captivated by her skillful prose. Her language is formal and somewhat complex; I often had to re-read a passage in order to get it. But in The House of Mirth Edith Wharton once again probes into the timeless frailties that lie at the core of humanity, regardless of our era or geography. It is a tragedy painted in beautiful colors by a master artist.

A problem that can arise with reading classical literature from another period is the ability of the reader to place herself or himself in that period to realize the limitations of the characters. Lily Bart, the central figure of Edith Wharton's "The House of Mirth," would not be what I can describe as a heroine - she is not a character to be admired. Lily Bart is a tragic figure, a product of her upbringing, and trapped in a world she has no idea how to escape - even if she truly had a desire to leave.

Lily Bart was born and raised into a family of extreme wealth, in the gilded age of New York society. She was taught nothing except how to be pretty, witty, flirtatious, dress well - and get a husband. Women of her class and time had no choices in life, and Lily wasn't one to have much ambition. Orphaned at a young age, she was taken in by a wealthy aunt, though her personal wealth was gone. Still, there were appearances to keep up, dresses to buy, social appearances to make, one has to give the appearance of wealth in order to obtain a wealth husband. However, Lily was never encouraged to be smart nor is she bright. She is ruled by impulse, and, by the age of 29, has allowed her foolishness to find her still single, with time desperately running out on marriageable prospects. Never one to be calculating, Lily allows herself to continue in her impulsiveness and foolishness, until she finds herself tumbling down the ladder of society without a clue as to how to regain her footing.

Lily Bart is not a woman who elicits sympathy easily. In fact, I found myself becoming exasperated with her often! There were times I found myself thinking, "NO, Lily! Not that! Don't do it!" And still, she would, impulsive little fool that she was. And yet, in the end, I very much wanted to save her. I wanted to give her a hug, take her by the hand, and show her the way out. Lily is such a product of her upbringing, of the world in which she lived in, of the times in which she lived in. This can be a frustrating book for women of our modern age to read, yes. However, Ms. Wharton was intimatly acquainted with this world, and I think a great of it is coming from her own experience.

This book is one of the best I believe I've read, and it will stay with me. It is not the "rainbows and roses" of a Jane Austen novel, no. It is tragic and unrelenting, and very, very real. And even though this novel was over 100 years ago, I can say that I've met my fair share of Lily Bart's in my life time. There are still pretty little fools living in the house of mirth.

I just sort of stumbled upon this book recently: the price was right -- $3.00 from Dover! I was not expecting much, although I like Wharton. The subject matter seemed unpromising: the hedonistic rich and their hangers-on. But the quality of the writing kept me going, and the character of Lily Bart was intriguing. By the time I was finished, I was moved enough to do something I rarely do: start over at the beginning. This time the book opened up for me with increasing pleasure and, indeed, awe. How a mere mortal is able to write with such authority about so many facets of life, fabricate a hugely complex social tapestry while all the while keeping the story moving, and create a flawed but achingly noble and sympathetic character out of mere words on a page - is beyond me. So I just indulged. Here is the case study par excellence of inexorable fate determined by upbringing, character, and circumstances. Lily Bart is perhaps the most exquisitely drawn character in all of literature, and her memory will stay with me forever.

(By the way, Wharton's more well-known book, The Age of Innocence, cannot hold a candle to this one, in my opinion.)

There is, however, one fly in the ointment ... and one that is found frequently in great literature, alas. The book is blatantly anti-Semitic. One of the main characters is Simon Rosedale, who is slimy like so many others in Lily's circle but who has the distinction of being described several times as representative of his "race." For example:

"He had his race's accuracy in the appraisal of values, and to be seen walking down the platform at the crowded afternoon hour in the company of Miss Lily Bart would have been money in his pocket, as he might himself have phrased it." (bk 1, ch. 2)

"Rosedale, with that mixture of artistic sensibility and business astuteness which characterizes his race ..." (bk 1, ch. 2)

"He knew he should have to go slowly, and the instincts of his race fitted him to suffer rebuffs and put up with delays." (bk 1, ch 11)

The book in fact adopts an exceedingly conflicted view of this fellow. For Wharton attributes some very touching qualities to this man, such that he turns out to be one of the few sympathetic figures in the book. On the other hand, there is the definite suggestion that Rosedale represents the utter depths to which Lily may have to descend in order to maintain the style of life she seems to require. That would be fine (plot-wise) if Rosedale were portrayed simply as an individual or even as a type. But ... as typical of his race? Hmm. Rosedale emits some quality that causes almost visceral disgust in Lily (and her set), even when she can recognize his kindly features; yet that quality is simply to be understood rather than defined, probably because it is little more than the subjective projection of society's prejudice.

Numerous novels of this generation delve with the triumphs and travails of young women seeking sustenance in a world where their employment is deemed demeaning and impertinent to their character.

Usually, the protagonist, through their beauty or wit, prevails by obtaining the wealth of a man or becoming the adoration of those around her. Winning men novels include Nicole Diver in Tender is the Night, Isabel Archer of The Portrait of a Lady, Elizabeth Bennett of Pride and Prejudice, and Verena Tarrant of The Bostonians. All classics. All wonderful stories following the path of fairy tales.

This book is amid the untamed and undeveloped New York City where it was magnificently rustic. "The path wound across a meadow with scattered trees; then it dipped into a lane plumed with asters and purpling sprays of bramble, whence, through the light quiver of ash-leaves, the country unrolled itself in pastoral distances." But this wonderland becomes grotesque when one encounters the social intermingling occurring within the confines of the best homes.

In this novel, instead of bequeathing the young maiden the comforts and gifts of the adored wealthy, the beautiful Lily Bart encounters bitter reality and is ostracized for acts committed by anyone but she.

Wharton grew up among the posh and circumstance of New York wealth at the turn of the century. And with her inquisitive mind, she digested and comprehended the thinly veneered characters whose deceit to one another could scar like acid their best friends of society. This novel shows exactly how easily such distasteful activity thrust horrible conclusions upon those least able to defend themselves. "[T]ake them [the rich] into another element and see how they squirm and gasp."

Pretense of wealth is financially exhausting. "You think we live on the rich rather than with them: and so we do, in a sense - but it's a privilege we have to pay for! We eat their dinners, and drink their wine, and smoke their cigarettes, and use their carriages and their opera boxes and their private cars - yes, but there's a tax to pay on every one of those luxuries. . . " The expense is clothing, losing money in cards and more. Much more than poor Lily could afford.

In attempting to find husband, Lily fails. Maybe because she was not willing to accept less than a premier mate: ". . . she works like a slave preparing the ground and sowing her seed; but the day she ought to be reaping the harvest she over-sleeps herself or goes off on a picnic."

Unlike its peer classics, this novel shrugs off the Cinderella ending by renouncing resolution through romantic fantasy-like betrothal. In fact, in a novel complete with many couples and many marriages, the only happy marriage is that of abused (by her wealthy employer) middle class Netty to a common man. It is a wonder how society of Wharton's time embraced a novel which criticized such a sacred institution. It is for this perspective that this novel remains a classic to the 21st century reader.

America and Europe of the 1800s were stiff, gilded, formal place, full of "old" families, rigid customs and social transgressions. Especially for women.

And nobody chronicled them better than Edith Wharton, who spun exquisitely barbed novels out of the social clashes of the late nineteenth century. "The House of Mirth" is one of her darker stories, where scandals and lack of conformity trigger a tragic downward spiral for a vibrant woman.

Like most not-so-rich women, Lily Bart is on the prowl for a marriage to keep her in luxury and affluent circles. What's more, she has a rapid intellect and striking looks, but she is also a habitual liar who defies society's strictures (she gambles and smokes). Her only friend is Lawrence Seldon, but she is determined not to marry for love alone.

Unfortunately, her schemes and plans start to collapse -- her adoring suitors either aren't rich enough, or her independent spirit sends her off. Her desperation becomes even more intense as she finds herself in the thick of a scandal, spun up by a malicious society matron to cover up her own affair. With her reputation in ruins, Lily's life spirals down into a new life of unemployment, poverty, and the final tragedy.

Edith Wharton always paid a lot of attention to a woman's restricted life in the Gilded Age, and how scandals, unconventionality and society's hypocrisy could ruin them. But "The House of Mirth" pays more attention to this than most -- it's a bleakly realistic story, unflinchingly showing Lily's slow descent into miserable loneliness.

Despite that, Wharton's writing is pure flowering poetry with a knack for evocation ("Her small pale face seemed the mere setting of a pair of dark exaggerated eyes"), and has a sensual quality with all the descriptions of silks, plants, soft light and luxurious mansions. And she vividly portrays the upper echelons of New York society at the time -- affairs, gossip and gilded salons -- as well as the restricted lives of women

But Wharton is just as capable of describing the darker, sadder world that Lily falls into ("... blurred the gaunt roof-lines, threw a mauve veil over the discouraging perspective of the side streets"). Sedoesn't pull any punches with the tragic finale, which has a distinct air of inevitability about it -- no fairy-tale last-minute save by a Prince Charming.

Lily starts out the book as a glimmering satellite of society, who can be rather selfish and cruel, but who nevertheless gains some sympathy because she just doesn't deserve everything that happens. The cruel, glittering society of the time had no room for women who stood outside the lines, and Lily's slow downward spiral is an illustration of this -- she's driven into miserable poverty and drug addiction. Lovely.

"The House of Mirth" is anything but mirthful -- it's the study of a woman's slow downfall, and the cruel society that left her friendless and disgraced. Haunting and vivid.

The world that Edith Wharton felt comfortable with was the one that was located in the fashionably expensive upper east side of New York City of the mid 1870s. There were plenty of newly rich businessmen who had made fortunes after the Civil War, and the attitudes of "hit `em hard" that made money then worked pretty well later too. Such attitudes were often grounded in a smugness that said, "I got mine, and you didn't." In THE HOUSE OF MIRTH, Wharton examines several figures whose lives intersect at a junction that separates those who have money from those who don't. The losers in such a confrontation are not only the ones who wind up broke--they are simply the most obvious--but the so called winners are also losers in that Wharton shows them as losing their humanity even if they maintain their fortunes.

Lily Bart is a very pretty but poor young woman who likes to wear nice clothes and travel in high class society. Since she is poor, she has no choice but to marry into money, and so she spends most of the novel looking at one man and then another, before deciding which man has enough money to guarantee her entrance into the world of which she can only dream. When Lily sees her upper class companions, she does not see them as three-dimensional fully-fleshed individuals, for if she did, she would notice that under the fancy clothes and expensive jewelry are people with the same weaknesses of character as anyone else. For their part, when Lily's rich friends see her, they either recognize her for what she is as a girl on the make or they try to help her gain entrance into their world of money and privilege. The problem with Lily is that she is simply not ruthless enough to get what she says she wants. On one hand she has been taught from childhood that the only way for a poor but pretty girl like her to get money is to marry it. On the other, however, when she does have the chance to marry into money, her "good" side stops her from taking advantage of a wealthy man who sees only a fine looking lady like Lily. Such a rich man is Mr. Rosedale, who may not be the handsomest man in the world or the most classy of individuals, but he does ask for her hand, which Lily refuses since she thinks she can do better. In the world of fiction, or perhaps in the real world as well, such a refusal often leads to a later regret that a golden opportunity was missed. And indeed, when Lily's standing in the rich community takes a tumble, so does her reputation, and when Lily looks up Mr. Rosedale to tell him that she has reconsidered his offer, he tells her to take a hike. Lily's fall from grace reads like a soap opera. She alienates the one true if poor man who would have been happy to marry her. She allows a rich man to try to seduce her in the most caddish of ways. And she gets involved in a life style that costs considerable sums to maintain, the result of which is to bankrupt her. She takes a dead end job in a factory, and on top of all that she is being blackmailed by that cad seducer. For her, there is no way out but suicide.

THE HOUSE OF MIRTH is not quite the drama of naturalism that some see it as. In the world of brute naturalism, the world conspires to crush you without mercy or hope. But in Lily's case, there are others who are good and are not crushed, her would be lover Selden, for example, is hurt by her death but otherwise uninjured. In Lily's demise, Edith Wharton recreates a world that entices one to play a deadly game, the rules of which are stacked against the player from the start. THE HOUSE OF MIRTH can still be seen as a cautionary tale against playing that most deadly of games.

Edith Wharton is at her best skewering the upper class of snobs and bores while her characters are so blatantly drawn to them. Wharton explores this upper realm through her tragic heroine, Lily Bart, who sorely wants to be an ornament to the super wealthy while knowing that they will never engage her mentally, along with the understanding that she could be cast aside the moment she no longer proves to be an "entertainment" to their egos and vanity. After a series of mistakes engendered by her own desire for acceptance, Lily quickly slips from favor and becomes a liability. In her downfall she discovers her true nature and the challenges of a more humble existence worsened by her exposure to an excessive lifestyle, and especially by the limited choices offered to a woman whose only skill was being "ornamental." What seems especially tragic is that one hundred years later, this world populated by hangers-on aspiring to the Olympus of the rich has not changed one iota, giving this classic meaning for the modern audience.

"The House of Mirth" is a rich, nuanced study of New York upper class at the turn of the century. It is also a portrait of a single, beautiful, no longer so young (29-it is the turn of the century woman) struggling to survive in this society. This book will break your heart.
Lily Bart is nearly penniless, not an unusual condition for the heroine of a novel. However, in her case, she does not exist in the lower classes and is not struggling to make her way to the top. Instead, she has been born at the top and she lives in a world where breeding, beauty and money (preferably of an older vintage) matter the most. Bart possesses the first two attributes and she is using them to gain the third.
Bart's only hope for survival in the world of Old New York society is to make an advantageous marriage and in her case it has to be to someone wealthy. The book details the various compromises she can make--basically, the coarser the person, the higher a price he is willing to pay for her breeding.
Several themes run through this book: money, of course, and the various forms it takes in "society" (e.g., old money, new money, newer money); class (the book has many anti-semitic references to a wealthy individual who is Jewish--and who is willing to pay a high price for Lily initially); integrity (which basically belongs to those of such older families as Lily's); and finally, true love, which comes in the form of Selden, a young, poor but well bred New Yorker, whom Lily loves in spite of herself.
Wharton depicts Lily's downward course in the world. In many ways, Wharton's heroine travels in the opposite direction of characters in books like Dreiser's: a dreiser character might begin in poverty, sacrifice her virtue and integrity, and rise up in the world. In Lily's case, the more she holds on to her integrity, the harder she falls in the world.
I would recommend this book to those who like 19th and early 20th century American and British fiction. IN addition, those individuals who enjoy women's books from all eras should appreciate "The House of Mirth."

The book tells the sad tale of Lily Bart living in New York at the end of the 19th century. Her fate appears so real, merciless and inevitable because Edith Wharton's family history was acquired with the great names of the old New York society. The author manages to create a protagonist who at twenty-nine is already past the age of marriage which would be her only chance to secure a safe and comfortable future. But her character is complex and contradictory and the causes for her destruction lie within her own psyche. That is why she manages to cut herself at every turn by a combination of lack of judgement, lack of care and a great deal of arrogance towards the men who show interest in her. And so her decline, misstep after misstep, appears both gradual and inevitable.

The author remarkably shows the social claustrophobia under which Lily Bart suffers. She evolves in an airless world of tight corsets, heavy draperies and closed rooms where she attempts to gasp for fresh air but fails and suffocates. She doesn't acknowledge that a woman of her class and situation can only support herself through an advantageous marriage. Edith Wharton clearly both disapproves of the wealth of the very rich and portrays them as inevitable. Because such people are invincible, Lily Bart is the agent of her own decline since she refuses to bargain with them in order to triumph. In this sense she is finally a victim because she cannot resolve the conflict between her ideals and her comfort or between what she aspires to be and what society insists she becomes.

Edith Wharton was awarded a Pulitzer prize for a reason. Her writing is exquisite and her portrayals of 19th century American "high" society is meticulous and realistic (well, as much as I can tell living over 100 years later). "The House of Mirth" is no exception.

This is a story of Lily Bart - a young woman born and raised in luxury and sophistication who at the age of 19 finds herself penniless and depending on patronage of her wealthy relatives. Lily is an ambiguous figure. On one hand, she is spoiled and has an air of entitlement about her. She is determined to marry a rich man, she sometimes enters into questionable deals to improve her situation, she takes advantage of people around her. On the other hand, Lily unwittingly craves love, understanding, and closeness and thus sabotages numerous advantageous matches. She is manipulative, but unable to commit any serious moral sins, even to safe her own reputation and future prospects. As Lily's story progresses, after several errors in judgment, she finds herself disinherited and ostracized by people who just several months before fought for her attention. She gradually meets her downfall.

"The House of Mirth" is definitely the most tragic and my favorite of Wharton's novels. This book is filled with a feeling of impending doom and leaves you with a lasting impression. Highly recommended to all fans of classical literature.

Can anyone truly tell me under what category our enigmatic Lily Bart should be placed? She's such....well.. an enigma, that she's difficult to put a finger on (no pun intended). Is she an antihero, a bona fide heroine, or somewhere stuck in the middle? In any event, at times I shook my head in disgust at some of her less than wise decisions, while I applauded and cheered as she undergoes a striking, yet tumultuous, epiphany of sorts that makes her all the more endearing and palpably real to the reader.

Seemingly infinite wealth, preeminent social status, and unmitigated decadence form the shaky foundation of Edith Wharton's fictional and frictional, yet highly plausible, house -- a house that, ironically enough, is conspicuously devoid of mirth. There exists, however, a method to Wharton's madness. As the bible verse(Ecl 7:4) states from which she nabbed the title, "...the heart of fools is in the house of mirth." As Lily is inexorably extricated from this house of miserable frivolity, I found it increasingly difficult to nonchalantly label Lily a failure, but rather as a heroine of noble courage.

The sheer genius of Wharton's amazingly fluid and enormously readable prose deftly concludes with "the word which made all clear" for Lily Bart and Lawrence Selden. The beauty of this is that Wharton does not lower herself and overtly spell it out to the reader as so many hackneyed authors do; instead, she places her blind faith in the astuteness of the reader to discern for oneself.
Note: for those ordering the large print version, it is well worth it for the contemporary reviews written in 1905 as well as Edith Wharton's correspondences to Charles Scribner, but do not, however, read the intro by Elizabeth Hardwick before the text due to the fact that she inexcusably reveals the denouement in her so-called "introduction."

This is my second book by Edith Wharton. The first was The Custom of the Country, where the leading lady is pretty much a narcissist, but at least she didn't die from stupidity and laziness.

In this book, I'm not sure what personality classification Lily would fall into. It seems to me that her highest skills were in self sabotage. She had many opportunities that she worked hard to create for herself that, had she taken advantage of them, could have provided for her the life to which she aspired and for which she was well fitted. She was beautiful and smart enough to have a glimmer of self-analysis. She could have made a great success out of any of the marriage opportunities she had. But she just wouldn't decide, so she drifted along from one situation to the next in her little dream world of impetuosity, and through drifting and dreaming and lack of self-discipline (gambling and spending to excess, for example) she ended up having wasted every opportunity and in the end had nothing.

I don't see Lily as admirable at all. I didn't see her as sweet and good so much as just plain lazy. She wasn't evil, but she wasn't good either. She's childlike in that she wants to be miraculously provided for without having to make any commitment in return. The book alludes to her having deeper feelings, desires, and intelligence than the shallow existence of most of her contemporaries. It seems that she used those gifts as an excuse to do nothing.

The point is that, had she made one of the excellent marriages that she was sure to be offered if she had continued to follow her own plan, she could have lived her own life! She could have created a salon where intelligent and interesting people would have come. She could have written, painted, studied, traveled, done whatever she was drawn to. She could have been a force for depth of lifestyle, perhaps a beginning force due to the era, to be sure; but the men who were interested in her were so wealthy that she would have been one of the leaders of society in that time and place. Those women in that society were such sheep that they would follow anyone who had more money. Instead, she chose to play the victim and to sabotage herself to make sure she stayed the victim to the end.

You can't really blame Bertha Dorset or Mrs. Trenor, because Lily created both situations by her lack of discipline that ended up to be her own undoing. She created the situation of being mostly cut from the will by her own actions. She's pretty pathetic.

I think Ms. Wharton perhaps wrote, way ahead of its time, an early book on addiction. These are the first two Wharton books I've ever read, and both of them are excellent character studies.

I rediscovered "The House of Mirth" when I downloaded all of Edith Wharton's works for my Kindle. It's a wonderful read. Lily Bart is a fascinating heroine, who, unfortunately allows the social mores of the upper class to crush the courage which lies within her. It's as if she's too well-bred to let out a good healthy scream.

One small item, contrary to what the store's introductory remarks claim, Simon Rosedale is not portrayed as a "token social-climbing Jew." In fact, Wharton characterizes him as one the few heroic characters in the novel. His repeated offers of assistance to Lily are much more practical than Lawrence Selden's highly nuanced equivocations.

Lily Bart, our heroine, is a fascinating study into beauty, self absorption and staggering materialism. Her mistakes, her deflections, her obsession with obtaining great wealth through marriage but her seemingly endless rejection and fumbles of proposals struck me as somewhat maddening. Lily is someone who loves to play in an extremely expensive world without ever having to pay the price, except with her beautiful presence. What she does not seem to realize is the clock is ticking and she is fast running out of time. This is not to say Edith Warton left her void of admirable traits. We get to see Lily as a bit more human as New York high society grinds her down to a pulp due to her mistakes, innuendo and gossip. We soon discover how valuable honor is to Lily, even to a social system determined to forget her. It is tragedy in the most classical sense, but with an entertaining and modern twist as Lily evokes ambivilant feelings in the reader.
I loved this book. Lily Bart is just the tip of the iceberg as far as characters and themes, I could discuss them at great length, but why bother? You should just read the book. Edith Warton is a fine story teller, and this novel is most deservedly a classic.

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.

Wharton creates a complete picture of turn-of-the-century New York society and its "important" people--their lack of scruples, their opportunism, their manipulations, and their smug self-importance, characteristics one may also see in Lily when she is part of this society, though there is a limit on how far she will stoop. 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. n Mary Whipple

The House Of Mirth By Judith Wharton

3 Stars

Lily Barton is a 29 year old beautiful woman who is chaparoned by her wealthy aunt. Lily is stuck in the 1890's society, with no where to go, and no fun to be had. At least not if you want to marry well and be taken care of. Deep tradition, rules and double standards surround her. Young women who were unmarried could be taken advantage of and ruined for virtually nothing. No one would ever forget either once that happens.

Lily's aunt disowns her prior to her death for one such infraction which may or may not include gambling debts and affairs with married men. Lily tries to survive using her intelligence and wit. She wants to be independent and find a man she can love for love's sake. Fate, and the cruel world are very much against her.

Well written and true to the age. Wharton captures what a women such as Lily would have gone through during this time in our society. We've come a long way in some respects and others we haven't.

This was my first venture into the literary world of Edith Wharton. Somehow I managed to pass her by in high school and college and thought it was about time to right this wrong.

In her writing, Edith Wharton is both poetic and pithy, piercing and languid, frivolous and heartbreaking. In essence, it is a flat-out stunning piece of work. The story, however, is hard (emotionally hard) to get through. The protagonist, Lily Bart, is deeply complex. Her astonishing beauty, natural grace, and wit have fixed her as the shining ornament of New York's most exclusive social set. Yet she has no family money and must rely on the condescension of her social friends; a role that does not wear well on her independent nature.

Although she is a lover of luxury and the ease that wealth permits, Lily was not born with social fangs or a proclivity to self-advancement. This cruel and irreconcilable contradiction is one that wears on her throughout the entire novel. She is a complacent, yet sympathetically honorable, heroine who is difficult to fully love and understand.

House of Mirth is a book of wisdom and even, perhaps, redemption. Although I'm sure some literary critics would take me to task for that statement. I recommend it as a book that deepens our understanding of this world and the enigmatic people who inhabit it.

Edith Wharton's "The House of Mirth" offers a sharp, exquisitely detailed view of New York high society around the beginning of the twentieth century, a milieu in which Wharton spent her life and must have known so intimately she probably could be considered its greatest and shrewdest chronicler. It is a society and a time in which a person's influence is directly proportional to his or her wealth, and this novel is about how the vicious circle of such a society decides the fate of one particular girl.
The heroine, Lily Bart, comes from a wealthy family, but her father had fallen into ruin just before his death, and now she is impecunious and living with her strident aunt, Mrs. Peniston. Ten years ago, she lost her chance to marry an Italian prince; now, approaching thirty and still single, she drifts through New York society attending dinners, playing bridge, and looking for money to marry -- one thing the novel makes clear is that there is nothing worse than being a Society Woman without money. Despite her financial situation, she retains her snobbishness and is addicted to the luxury provided by this society in which she was raised, even though she is frankly bored with most of the people in it.
Lily's precarious position renders her vulnerable to the more predatory members of the society. One "friend," Bertha Dorset, invites her to the Riviera for a vacation, but her real intention is for Lily to distract her husband's attention from her extramarital affair; Lily, in turn, is falsely accused of seducing Mr. Dorset and plunged into further shame. Another of Lily's married friends, Gus Trenor, under the pretext of helping her invest what little money she has, gives her some financial aid in the hope that she will give him a little something else in return. To repay her debt to him, she regretfully considers marrying the very wealthy and very repugnant Simon Rosedale.
A man Lily does love is Lawrence Selden, a lawyer, who moves in the same social circles as she, but he doesn't have much money nor does he care for the society people. She's also interested in Percy Gryce, a handsome but shy book collector, but she doesn't move fast enough to save him from becoming engaged to another girl. When financial circumstances finally force Lily to take a menial millinery job to make ends meet, we can sympathize with her because she has done nothing foolish to deserve her fate and accepts it with the dignity she deems appropriate for her bygone social status.
What impressed me most about the novel is the intricate beauty of Wharton's prose, which is not only descriptively excellent with moments of sly and caustic humor, but conveys the characters' moods and motives with unthinkable subtlety. Was Wharton trying to stick a dagger into the society she knew so well, the one from which she derived her entire lifestyle? With her pen, the strange, unique social mentality in which people may find themselves torn between a fraternal obligation to "take care" of a friend and a snobbish urge to expel her from a society to which she can no longer afford to belong, becomes a great subject for literary commentary.

The House of Mirth was a more complicated read than I expected. I found myself frustrated with Lily Bart, sometimes thinking she deserved what she got and then at other times I was pulling for her.

It's easy to look at Lily with modern eyes and think of her as a purely foolish woman; however, in the context of her time, it is hard to imagine her creating a more independent life for herself. The milliner experience is telling: in Lily's limited world, she is skilled at trimming hats. In the real world, she has nearly no skill at all. Her greatest failing at personal growth was not taking seriously the possibility of a life with Selden. You catch glimpses of the person she might become but over and again Lily chooses the materialistic life she knows.

Interesting to me is how my expectations for Lily declined as did her prospects: at first I hoped for Selden and happiness, later I merely hoped for anyone (Dorset or Rosedale) and escape from her desperate circumstances. For most of the book, I found the final outcome hard to predict; unfortunately the ending was too clearly foreshadowed. I won't detail it here for the sake of other readers but once the idea was introduced, it was impossible to read on without dismissing all other possible outcomes. That was a disappointment.

Although Lily's adherence to her code of conduct was critical to her last minute redemption, I was selfishly very sorry that Bertha Dorset didn't get her comeuppance. Maybe that's why I cannot judge Lily too harshly.

The House of Mirth is the book that established Edith Wharton as a major writer. As such, it is not the future Pulitzer Prize-winner's best book, though it does have its strong points. The comedy of manners, particularly around the turn of the 20th century, was effectively monopolized by British literature; this book is one of American literature's first successful books of the type. As such, it is a book distinctly of its time: its setting is certainly not universal; arguably neither is its theme. And yet, the book has been in continual publication for nearly a century for several good reasons. First of all, like her good friend Henry James, Wharton was a master prose stylist. Smart, sophisticated, and witty, her prose is perfectly-suited for a book of this type. Many of the book's features place it squarely in Victorian-era America, in the cradle of New York's upper-class -- in other words, square in the middle of the Gilded Age. The era's infamous social etiquette is on full display here: one that knows little of it will come away from the book knowing much. In the middle of this situation, then, is the book's protagonist: Lily Bart. Wharton uses the story of Bart's rapid downfall to satirize several aspects of New York's turn-of-the-century upper-class society: its selfishness, cruelty, and blindness; its preoccupation with gossip and its disdain for truth; its inhumane treatment of those it believes to be inferior; and more. The book also focuses on the situation that a young lady who was born and bred from the cradle to be rich and taught no skills other than how to woo a rich man into marriage -- a woman, in short, like Lily -- was often forced into at the time. Lily, despite being the most prized beauty of the entire scene, has a seemingly-perverse record of failing to marry rich men whom she has under her thumb. In this, we find Lily to be something of an essentially contradictory character: not a mere gold digger, but hardly a rebel, either. When she is ejected from society's upper echelons, she does not become strong and individualistic: she crumbles. It is in this aspect that the book differs so greatly from present-day culture and ideas about women. This is, by no means, a feminist book: strong-minded women reading this book today, unless they look upon it from a purely-literary viewpoint, will not only despise it, but hate Lily for her failure to stand up for herself. This is an anachronistic reading of the book, of course, but it is precisely the reason why the book's relevance to the contemporary world is questionable at best (this point is illustrated by the largely-unsuccessful recent film adaptation.) Still, the book is both a penetrating comedy of manners and a fascinating period piece. Its exquisite writing style also is quite remarkable, and this is an essential book for prose stylists. This book comes highly-recommended for fans of the works of E.M. Forster and Kate Chopin's The Awakening -- and, of course, of Wharton's other writings. For a truly great work from this author, though, read Ethan Frome.

It is a strange society. Everybody is being watched, every single move, words; they dress code reveals a lot: women with big hats, men with fancy suits and top hats. This is the society they are trapped into. It is very hard to get into it, and easy to be dumped out of. This is the world where Edith Wharton's characters from `The House of Mirth' inhabit: the early XX Century New York. Actually this is the world where Wharton herself lived in.
Lily Bart is a marriageable orphan who is trying to marry a rich man. Her first victim is Percy Gryce, a very rich and insecure man, guided by his mother. When this attempt fails, her friendship with Laurence Selden almost leads to a match, but rumors of her being friends with married man, only brings her ruin and social exclusion. A series of unfortunate events --among them losing money in gambling-- and a very mean `friend' called Bertha Dorset lead Lily to the ruin.
More than anything, `The House of Mirth' is a study of the social condition of the New Yorker wealthy women in the early XX century. Rather than being a heroine, Lily is a human being struggling with her problems. She is neither rich nor strong enough to be independent, so that marriage is the only way of keeping a comfortable life, unlikely man. Early in the novel, Lily and Selden are discussing marriages and she says that `a girl must, a man may if he chooses'. This states clear the difference of men and women, the lack of freedom, and the way people have to live under the social establishment if they want to succeed.
Writing as an insider --and so she was-- Wharton is able to give a faithful and acid view of that society. Inspired from a verse in the Bible, she titled the novel with a wonderful contradiction; there is neither a `house', nor `mirth' in the novel. They both are very abstract ideas that we get from the book.
`[Lily Bart was] so evidently the victim of the civilization which had produced here, that the links of her bracelet seemed line manacles chaining her to her fate'. I believe the writer felt this same way --maybe that's why she moved to Europe and lived there for many years. Personal connections to the book aside, Edith Wharton has written one of the best American books of the XX Century. Her prose is brilliant, and her story engaging.

Lawrence Selden was infatuated with Lily Bart. He couldn't help it. She was from a good family. She knew everyone. She was painfully beautiful. And special, yes, special: "He had a confused sense that she must have cost a great deal to make, that a great many dull and ugly people must, in some mysterious way, have been sacrificed to produce her."

What's wrong with Lily Bart? Just three things. Her family has lost its money. She's unmarried. And she's 29.

Twenty nine and unmarried --- that's far from a tragedy today, though there's always some fool around to remind a single woman that her biological clock is ticking. But in 1903 to 1905, when Wharton was writing "The House of Mirth," society --- that is, upper-class New York "Society" --- was remarkably judgmental about a woman in such a position. Particularly if she had lost her inheritance, as Lily has. Because, in that circumstance, she was prey to rich, married men who wanted to "help" her in exchange for the kind of thanks that permanently destroy a woman's reputation.

That is the story of Wharton's first great novel: a woman fighting to make her way through a minefield, a Society more infatuated with hypocrisy than humanity. This is high-toned stuff, not raw material for popular fiction. But Wharton saw a way. "A frivolous society can acquire dramatic significance," she explained, "only through what its frivolity destroys."

How modern this all is. Lily's beauty is "an asset." Her character flaws are common ones: "The only problems she could not solve were those with which she was familiar." And Selden --- do we not know at least one decent, intelligent, mild-mannered young man who could brighten the light in a woman's eyes if he weren't working so hard, if he could just stop being so damned decent?

The reason "House of Mirth" is assigned in English class is because it is a brilliantly written dissection of a society we like to think has disappeared. But the reason to read it is because only the particulars have changed. The essential questions of the drama are as interesting now as they were compelling then: What will happen to Lily Bart? Will Selden rescue her? Or will rich married men ruin her? And if she is ruined, what will happen to her then?

"House of Mirth" sold 100,000 copies in its first year --- equivalent to what a Grisham sells now. So don't think you'll pick it up to improve your mind. This is popular fiction at its best: a page-turner so good that, over time, it becomes a classic. This is what summer reading is all about --- pure, nail-biting pleasure.

--- Jesse Kornbluth/HeadButler.com

My definition of a five star review is that the book affects you personally in some permanent way and leaves you a better person for it. Chapter12 of Book 2 of Edith Wharton's novel of high society New York at the turn of the 19th century, The House of Mirth, accomplishes just that. As the novel draws to a close and the book's leading character Lily Bart's troubles mount, she has one last chance to escape. She has some letters written by Bertha Dorset, a woman who has slandered her and led to her ostracism, which prove Bertha's infidelity. She takes up the letters intent on confronting Bertha with them and forcing her to restore Lily to the good graces of New York society. But on the way to Bertha's house she goes by the apartment of Lawrence Selden, a man also mentioned in the letters and with whom she has shared an emotional attachment, and stops in to see him. What happens in this moment is both the climax of the novel and, in my view, one of the most poignant and moving pieces of writing in literature.

"The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth" Ecclesiastes 7:4. In The House of Mirth Edith Wharton is describing what she regards as the worthlessness and frivolity of life among the rich at a particular place and point in time. As a member of that elite group herself, Wharton knew her subject quite well. But her view of this society is suspect, since she spent most of her life in France, pointedly staying away from it. In any case, the picture presented is somewhat like turning over a flat rock and seeing all the creepy things underneath. We are fascinated, but what we see we hardly find attractive.

The central character in the book is Lily Bart, who at the start of the novel is 29 years old and unmarried. Lily is beautiful, charming and socially attractive. The problem is that she is poor--at least by her standards. With the death of her parents Lily takes up residence with her aunt, Julia Peniston. Aunt Julia is prim and proper and critical of Lily's seemingly risqué behavior. Lily remains with her aunt because she has no other options and because she hopes to inherit her considerable fortune.

At first the reader is likely to have difficulty sympathizing with Lily as she focuses her life on catching a rich husband so as to afford herself the opportunity to enjoy luxury. She rejects Lawrence Selden, a successful lawyer, despite the love she feels for him because he is not rich enough to give her the life she desires. Instead she initially opts for the very rich, but very boring, Percy Gryce. But just when it seems she is about to entrap Gryce she meets Selden and realizes the mistake marriage to Gryce would be. Here we begin to see Lily as she truly is, a person who despite her upbringing has a strong morality. But for much of the novel Lily continues to pursue gaining wealth through marriage. To do so she must keep up appearances. For example, at one point late in the book when her fortunes have declined considerably, she and her friend Gerty Farish, are having lunch in a fancy restaurant. Lily's circumstances have declined sharply, but as she notices several of her rich friends enter she says to her companion, "My dear Gerty, you wouldn't have me let the head waiter see that I've nothing to live on but Aunt Julia's legacy? Think of Grace Stepney's satisfaction if she came and found us lunching on cold mutton and tea! What sweet shall we have today, dear--Coupe Jacques or Peches a la Melba?"

But later we come to understand Lily better. Gerty informs Selden, "You know how dependent she has always been on ease and luxury--how she has hated what was shabby and ugly and uncomfortable. She can't help it--she was brought up with those ideas, and has never been able to find her way out of them." We also come to realize that Lily always does what is moral and right even at great personal cost to herself.

Most of the other characters lack this quality. Some are just social butterflies, such as Judy Trenor, while others are more malicious, such as the Dorsets. George and Bertha. The philandering George lusts after Lily, giving her money under false pretenses in the hopes of seducing her. Bertha is even more viscous, slandering Lily when her own infidelity is threatened to be uncovered. There are some good characters in this lot. Gerty Farish, a woman devoted to charitable causes, befriends Lily and is constant despite Lily's growing difficulties. But for the most part one's reputation in this group is determined by money. At one point, when she is being persecuted by Bertha Dorset, Lily states that people will believe Bertha over herself because Bertha is rich.

While the novel centers on Lily, Wharton is really commenting on the lifestyle of this class at this time in New York that she sees as in a state of crisis and transformation. A group of newly rich people is trying to break into the old money society. In the novel the Wellington Brys and,especially Simon Rosedale, represent this group. Rosedale has the added burden of being Jewish. He initially hopes to accomplish his aim by marrying Lily whose sophistication and background would enable him to ascend into high society, but she rejects this option. A year later when her fortunes have turned, she tells Rosedale that she is now ready to marry him, but he scoffs at the idea. He says that circumstances have changed--he is beginning to make inroads into New York society and Lily, having fallen out of it, would now be a hindrance to this objective. This constant striving for status and prestige at the expense of decency is at the heart of this novel. In the end Lily Bart is its most tragic victim.

I agree with the reviewers who say that Lily Bart is difficult to like. And Wharton meant her to be; she never misses a chance to remind us satirically how self-centered and materialistic Lily is, and how she thinks she's entitled to be rich because she has such good taste that she could make the world a better place by using her money well on good interior decor. I also agree that the novel is slow-moving. But if you stay with it, the emotional pay-off at the end is extraordinary. The last chapters had me in tears, and I don't usually cry over books or movies. Lily may be too much a product of her times and her awful mother's training, but she does discover her backbone at the end, and has the strength to do something quite heroic when she passes up the chance for revenge on the woman who slandered her in society. The next-to-last episode before her death is a wonderful image of redemption: earlier on, when she had money to throw around, she dabbled in a little charitable work, and later she meets a woman whom she really helped. When she drifts off to sleep for the last time, dreaming that she has the poor woman's baby in her arms -- well, that's the scene when you'd better have the kleenex box handy. It's not true, by the way, that this novel offers no alternative for women except being rich and useless. Lily's only real friend, Gertie Farrish, is a woman who has found a way to be both independent and to do something useful with her life, as Wharton herself did.

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

This is one hell of a depressing book. When I finished it I had a strong urge to rewrite the whole thing; especially the ending. But I think that's exactly how the author wanted me to feel. It's a story about a woman who is a prisoner to her time and the customs and ways of her time, mostly to how women were treated and viewed then, She was raised in a very wealthy family, brought up to rely on money and status and then it was all taken away from her. Her only obvious choice was to marry rich and she had no qualms about it, she was more then happy to do it, it's how all her friends and acquaintances lived and what was normal in her circle. But she started having feelings for a man who was not very wealthy, and subconsciously started sabotaging herself. suitor after suitor got away from her, her reputation became more and more tainted, she kept getting into more and more debt. Her "friends" started turning their backs on her. She stooped so low that she had to actually work for her living.

This is a classic and as such I can't very well say it's bad, and it's not, it's a very good book. But I have no fond feelings for it, it thoroughly depressed me.

High American society, New York, turn of the 19th century: Lily Bart, an associate of the well-heeled who often attends their social functions, has no fortune of her own. What to do? Marry into money. This should be easy enough for Lily as she's found to be beautiful by many of the men who orbit about her, but she seems to have no interest in them. She longs for the trappings of aristocratic life but is unwilling to accept the sacrifices attendant to marrying simply for position. Letting one too many opportunities slip by, and being embroiled in a couple of social faux pases along the way, she eventually finds that she's been dumped by polite society, facing penury in a boarding house.

House of Mirth is of course beautifully written, though the plot moves quite slowly with few truly dramatic punctuations. Lily is a largely unsympathetic character whose motives are not easy to understand and whose actions are often frustrating. Indeed, many of the misfortunes that befall her seem to be of her own making.

This was my first Edith Wharton novel and I know it won't be my last. Lily Bart is a heroine that touched my heart. She grew up surrounded by wealth but didn't have any money herself. Her beauty got her invited to all the best places but eventually gets her gossiped about and her reputation is ruined, she loses her inheritance and has to work for a living.
This is a remarkable book and exposes the pitfalls of living beyond your means to fit in with people that have more money than you.

I highly recommend this book and author.

This kindle edition has a few extra &'s and a few misspellings but overall is very readable.
I purchased my kindle in March and since I went over my book budget I am reading only the free books this year. This has to be one of my favorites so far.

The House of Mirth was a more complicated read than I expected. I found myself frustrated with Lily Bart, sometimes thinking she deserved what she got and then at other times I was pulling for her.

It's easy to look at Lily with modern eyes and think of her as a purely foolish woman; however, in the context of her time, it is hard to imagine her creating a more independent life for herself. The milliner experience is telling: in Lily's limited world, she is skilled at trimming hats. In the real world, she has nearly no skill at all. Her greatest failing at personal growth was not taking seriously the possibility of a life with Selden. You catch glimpses of the person she might become but over and again Lily chooses the materialistic life she knows.

Interesting to me is how my expectations for Lily declined as did her prospects: at first I hoped for Selden and happiness, later I merely hoped for anyone (Dorset or Rosedale) and escape from her desperate circumstances. For most of the book, I found the final outcome hard to predict; unfortunately the ending was too clearly foreshadowed. I won't detail it here for the sake of other readers but once the idea was introduced, it was impossible to read on without dismissing all other possible outcomes. That was a disappointment.

Although Lily's adherence to her code of conduct was critical to her last minute redemption, I was selfishly very sorry that Bertha Dorset didn't get her comeuppance. Maybe that's why I cannot judge Lily too harshly.

The House of Mirth is the book that established Edith Wharton as a major writer. As such, it is not the future Pulitzer Prize-winner's best book, though it does have its strong points. The comedy of manners, particularly around the turn of the 20th century, was effectively monopolized by British literature; this book is one of American literature's first successful books of the type. As such, it is a book distinctly of its time: its setting is certainly not universal; arguably neither is its theme. And yet, the book has been in continual publication for nearly a century for several good reasons. First of all, like her good friend Henry James, Wharton was a master prose stylist. Smart, sophisticated, and witty, her prose is perfectly-suited for a book of this type. Many of the book's features place it squarely in Victorian-era America, in the cradle of New York's upper-class -- in other words, square in the middle of the Gilded Age. The era's infamous social etiquette is on full display here: one that knows little of it will come away from the book knowing much. In the middle of this situation, then, is the book's protagonist: Lily Bart. Wharton uses the story of Bart's rapid downfall to satirize several aspects of New York's turn-of-the-century upper-class society: its selfishness, cruelty, and blindness; its preoccupation with gossip and its disdain for truth; its inhumane treatment of those it believes to be inferior; and more. The book also focuses on the situation that a young lady who was born and bred from the cradle to be rich and taught no skills other than how to woo a rich man into marriage -- a woman, in short, like Lily -- was often forced into at the time. Lily, despite being the most prized beauty of the entire scene, has a seemingly-perverse record of failing to marry rich men whom she has under her thumb. In this, we find Lily to be something of an essentially contradictory character: not a mere gold digger, but hardly a rebel, either. When she is ejected from society's upper echelons, she does not become strong and individualistic: she crumbles. It is in this aspect that the book differs so greatly from present-day culture and ideas about women. This is, by no means, a feminist book: strong-minded women reading this book today, unless they look upon it from a purely-literary viewpoint, will not only despise it, but hate Lily for her failure to stand up for herself. This is an anachronistic reading of the book, of course, but it is precisely the reason why the book's relevance to the contemporary world is questionable at best (this point is illustrated by the largely-unsuccessful recent film adaptation.) Still, the book is both a penetrating comedy of manners and a fascinating period piece. Its exquisite writing style also is quite remarkable, and this is an essential book for prose stylists. This book comes highly-recommended for fans of the works of E.M. Forster and Kate Chopin's The Awakening -- and, of course, of Wharton's other writings. For a truly great work from this author, though, read Ethan Frome.

Penetrating analysis of upper class New Yorkers in the late nineteenth century. Wharton was from this class and her picture of the money, consumerism and striving for social status is scathing. Her characters are trapped in this milieu although they do not recognize it. The ones that fall from ‘grace’ in this society are punished by banishment. Women are the novels focus and their roles are so restricted they can only find an outlet in their display of wealth. A chilling book.

It is a strange society. Everybody is being watched, every single move, words; they dress code reveals a lot: women with big hats, men with fancy suits and top hats. This is the society they are trapped into. It is very hard to get into it, and easy to be dumped out of. This is the world where Edith Wharton's characters from `The House of Mirth' inhabit: the early XX Century New York. Actually this is the world where Wharton herself lived in.
Lily Bart is a marriageable orphan who is trying to marry a rich man. Her first victim is Percy Gryce, a very rich and insecure man, guided by his mother. When this attempt fails, her friendship with Laurence Selden almost leads to a match, but rumors of her being friends with married man, only brings her ruin and social exclusion. A series of unfortunate events --among them losing money in gambling-- and a very mean `friend' called Bertha Dorset lead Lily to the ruin.
More than anything, `The House of Mirth' is a study of the social condition of the New Yorker wealthy women in the early XX century. Rather than being a heroine, Lily is a human being struggling with her problems. She is neither rich nor strong enough to be independent, so that marriage is the only way of keeping a comfortable life, unlikely man. Early in the novel, Lily and Selden are discussing marriages and she says that `a girl must, a man may if he chooses'. This states clear the difference of men and women, the lack of freedom, and the way people have to live under the social establishment if they want to succeed.
Writing as an insider --and so she was-- Wharton is able to give a faithful and acid view of that society. Inspired from a verse in the Bible, she titled the novel with a wonderful contradiction; there is neither a `house', nor `mirth' in the novel. They both are very abstract ideas that we get from the book.
`[Lily Bart was] so evidently the victim of the civilization which had produced here, that the links of her bracelet seemed line manacles chaining her to her fate'. I believe the writer felt this same way --maybe that's why she moved to Europe and lived there for many years. Personal connections to the book aside, Edith Wharton has written one of the best American books of the XX Century. Her prose is brilliant, and her story engaging.

Lawrence Selden was infatuated with Lily Bart. He couldn't help it. She was from a good family. She knew everyone. She was painfully beautiful. And special, yes, special: "He had a confused sense that she must have cost a great deal to make, that a great many dull and ugly people must, in some mysterious way, have been sacrificed to produce her."

What's wrong with Lily Bart? Just three things. Her family has lost its money. She's unmarried. And she's 29.

Twenty nine and unmarried --- that's far from a tragedy today, though there's always some fool around to remind a single woman that her biological clock is ticking. But in 1903 to 1905, when Wharton was writing "The House of Mirth," society --- that is, upper-class New York "Society" --- was remarkably judgmental about a woman in such a position. Particularly if she had lost her inheritance, as Lily has. Because, in that circumstance, she was prey to rich, married men who wanted to "help" her in exchange for the kind of thanks that permanently destroy a woman's reputation.

That is the story of Wharton's first great novel: a woman fighting to make her way through a minefield, a Society more infatuated with hypocrisy than humanity. This is high-toned stuff, not raw material for popular fiction. But Wharton saw a way. "A frivolous society can acquire dramatic significance," she explained, "only through what its frivolity destroys."

How modern this all is. Lily's beauty is "an asset." Her character flaws are common ones: "The only problems she could not solve were those with which she was familiar." And Selden --- do we not know at least one decent, intelligent, mild-mannered young man who could brighten the light in a woman's eyes if he weren't working so hard, if he could just stop being so damned decent?

The reason "House of Mirth" is assigned in English class is because it is a brilliantly written dissection of a society we like to think has disappeared. But the reason to read it is because only the particulars have changed. The essential questions of the drama are as interesting now as they were compelling then: What will happen to Lily Bart? Will Selden rescue her? Or will rich married men ruin her? And if she is ruined, what will happen to her then?

"House of Mirth" sold 100,000 copies in its first year --- equivalent to what a Grisham sells now. So don't think you'll pick it up to improve your mind. This is popular fiction at its best: a page-turner so good that, over time, it becomes a classic. This is what summer reading is all about --- pure, nail-biting pleasure.

--- Jesse Kornbluth/HeadButler.com

My definition of a five star review is that the book affects you personally in some permanent way and leaves you a better person for it. Chapter12 of Book 2 of Edith Wharton's novel of high society New York at the turn of the 19th century, The House of Mirth, accomplishes just that. As the novel draws to a close and the book's leading character Lily Bart's troubles mount, she has one last chance to escape. She has some letters written by Bertha Dorset, a woman who has slandered her and led to her ostracism, which prove Bertha's infidelity. She takes up the letters intent on confronting Bertha with them and forcing her to restore Lily to the good graces of New York society. But on the way to Bertha's house she goes by the apartment of Lawrence Selden, a man also mentioned in the letters and with whom she has shared an emotional attachment, and stops in to see him. What happens in this moment is both the climax of the novel and, in my view, one of the most poignant and moving pieces of writing in literature.

"The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth" Ecclesiastes 7:4. In The House of Mirth Edith Wharton is describing what she regards as the worthlessness and frivolity of life among the rich at a particular place and point in time. As a member of that elite group herself, Wharton knew her subject quite well. But her view of this society is suspect, since she spent most of her life in France, pointedly staying away from it. In any case, the picture presented is somewhat like turning over a flat rock and seeing all the creepy things underneath. We are fascinated, but what we see we hardly find attractive.

The central character in the book is Lily Bart, who at the start of the novel is 29 years old and unmarried. Lily is beautiful, charming and socially attractive. The problem is that she is poor--at least by her standards. With the death of her parents Lily takes up residence with her aunt, Julia Peniston. Aunt Julia is prim and proper and critical of Lily's seemingly risqué behavior. Lily remains with her aunt because she has no other options and because she hopes to inherit her considerable fortune.

At first the reader is likely to have difficulty sympathizing with Lily as she focuses her life on catching a rich husband so as to afford herself the opportunity to enjoy luxury. She rejects Lawrence Selden, a successful lawyer, despite the love she feels for him because he is not rich enough to give her the life she desires. Instead she initially opts for the very rich, but very boring, Percy Gryce. But just when it seems she is about to entrap Gryce she meets Selden and realizes the mistake marriage to Gryce would be. Here we begin to see Lily as she truly is, a person who despite her upbringing has a strong morality. But for much of the novel Lily continues to pursue gaining wealth through marriage. To do so she must keep up appearances. For example, at one point late in the book when her fortunes have declined considerably, she and her friend Gerty Farish, are having lunch in a fancy restaurant. Lily's circumstances have declined sharply, but as she notices several of her rich friends enter she says to her companion, "My dear Gerty, you wouldn't have me let the head waiter see that I've nothing to live on but Aunt Julia's legacy? Think of Grace Stepney's satisfaction if she came and found us lunching on cold mutton and tea! What sweet shall we have today, dear--Coupe Jacques or Peches a la Melba?"

But later we come to understand Lily better. Gerty informs Selden, "You know how dependent she has always been on ease and luxury--how she has hated what was shabby and ugly and uncomfortable. She can't help it--she was brought up with those ideas, and has never been able to find her way out of them." We also come to realize that Lily always does what is moral and right even at great personal cost to herself.

Most of the other characters lack this quality. Some are just social butterflies, such as Judy Trenor, while others are more malicious, such as the Dorsets. George and Bertha. The philandering George lusts after Lily, giving her money under false pretenses in the hopes of seducing her. Bertha is even more viscous, slandering Lily when her own infidelity is threatened to be uncovered. There are some good characters in this lot. Gerty Farish, a woman devoted to charitable causes, befriends Lily and is constant despite Lily's growing difficulties. But for the most part one's reputation in this group is determined by money. At one point, when she is being persecuted by Bertha Dorset, Lily states that people will believe Bertha over herself because Bertha is rich.

While the novel centers on Lily, Wharton is really commenting on the lifestyle of this class at this time in New York that she sees as in a state of crisis and transformation. A group of newly rich people is trying to break into the old money society. In the novel the Wellington Brys and,especially Simon Rosedale, represent this group. Rosedale has the added burden of being Jewish. He initially hopes to accomplish his aim by marrying Lily whose sophistication and background would enable him to ascend into high society, but she rejects this option. A year later when her fortunes have turned, she tells Rosedale that she is now ready to marry him, but he scoffs at the idea. He says that circumstances have changed--he is beginning to make inroads into New York society and Lily, having fallen out of it, would now be a hindrance to this objective. This constant striving for status and prestige at the expense of decency is at the heart of this novel. In the end Lily Bart is its most tragic victim.

I agree with the reviewers who say that Lily Bart is difficult to like. And Wharton meant her to be; she never misses a chance to remind us satirically how self-centered and materialistic Lily is, and how she thinks she's entitled to be rich because she has such good taste that she could make the world a better place by using her money well on good interior decor. I also agree that the novel is slow-moving. But if you stay with it, the emotional pay-off at the end is extraordinary. The last chapters had me in tears, and I don't usually cry over books or movies. Lily may be too much a product of her times and her awful mother's training, but she does discover her backbone at the end, and has the strength to do something quite heroic when she passes up the chance for revenge on the woman who slandered her in society. The next-to-last episode before her death is a wonderful image of redemption: earlier on, when she had money to throw around, she dabbled in a little charitable work, and later she meets a woman whom she really helped. When she drifts off to sleep for the last time, dreaming that she has the poor woman's baby in her arms -- well, that's the scene when you'd better have the kleenex box handy. It's not true, by the way, that this novel offers no alternative for women except being rich and useless. Lily's only real friend, Gertie Farrish, is a woman who has found a way to be both independent and to do something useful with her life, as Wharton herself did.

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

This is one hell of a depressing book. When I finished it I had a strong urge to rewrite the whole thing; especially the ending. But I think that's exactly how the author wanted me to feel. It's a story about a woman who is a prisoner to her time and the customs and ways of her time, mostly to how women were treated and viewed then, She was raised in a very wealthy family, brought up to rely on money and status and then it was all taken away from her. Her only obvious choice was to marry rich and she had no qualms about it, she was more then happy to do it, it's how all her friends and acquaintances lived and what was normal in her circle. But she started having feelings for a man who was not very wealthy, and subconsciously started sabotaging herself. suitor after suitor got away from her, her reputation became more and more tainted, she kept getting into more and more debt. Her "friends" started turning their backs on her. She stooped so low that she had to actually work for her living.

This is a classic and as such I can't very well say it's bad, and it's not, it's a very good book. But I have no fond feelings for it, it thoroughly depressed me.

High American society, New York, turn of the 19th century: Lily Bart, an associate of the well-heeled who often attends their social functions, has no fortune of her own. What to do? Marry into money. This should be easy enough for Lily as she's found to be beautiful by many of the men who orbit about her, but she seems to have no interest in them. She longs for the trappings of aristocratic life but is unwilling to accept the sacrifices attendant to marrying simply for position. Letting one too many opportunities slip by, and being embroiled in a couple of social faux pases along the way, she eventually finds that she's been dumped by polite society, facing penury in a boarding house.

House of Mirth is of course beautifully written, though the plot moves quite slowly with few truly dramatic punctuations. Lily is a largely unsympathetic character whose motives are not easy to understand and whose actions are often frustrating. Indeed, many of the misfortunes that befall her seem to be of her own making.

It's an extraordinary author that can make a reader love and hate her heroine. Edith Wharton is an extraordinary author, and her heroine of The House of Mirth, Lily Bart, is a wonderfully complex heroine. This sad tale of a woman's struggle against a future prescribed for her by society is made poignant by Lily's inability -- or is it unwillingness? -- to muster the courage to turn her feet away from the path paved in gold in order to find true happiness. As financial circumstances force her to take the first step toward ruin, she not only allows herself to be blinded to the truth of her situation, but impatiently takes the blindfold and ties it on firmly herself. She then begins her inevitable, painfully slow fall, touching but not grasping the hand Lawrence Selden holds out to save her. Selden does love her and does want to help her, but he wears his own blindfold, one created by him to save him from the extremes of life, even the extreme pleasure he would find in a life with Lily Bart. In the end, the fear that has kept them apart throughout the novel brings them together in a tragic end. This is a book that's extremely difficult to put down, and one you'll want to read again and again, always somehow in the hopes of a different ending for Lily and Lawrence.

High school students are often assigned Ethan Frome, and the Age of Innocence gained many readers because of the movie, but this is the Edith Wharton book that everyone should read. In many ways, this is similar to a Jane Austen book in which a member of the upper echelon of society has money problems and needs to marry well in order to stay at the same level of society. Forces and other people are contriving against her, but there seems to be at least one man who would be a good match for reasons of love. The first twist here is that the good match is not financially well off and therefore won't be able to support the heroine as she wants to be supported.
Lily Bart was orphaned many years ago, and her family had been financially ruined before that. However, she is accustomed to beautiful things and wants to continue to live at the top level of society. Unfortunately, her heart and soul long for more than these creature comforts. She yearns for excitement, intellectual and emotional honesty and probably true love, although she is confused about that. As she has gotten towards her late 20s, her prospects are dwindling and the only person who has the resources to support her and is already a part of polite society is Percy Gryce, a singularly boring man.
Lily rebels against Gryce just as she is about to marry him when she has a couple of heartfelt conversations with Lawrence Selden, a person she decides she might love, but who makes clear that he is not rich enough to support her as well as she should be supported.
Her choices other than Gryce are slim. There is Simon Rosedale, who is portrayed as an upwardly mobile person and therefore undesirable. He is also Jewish, which Wharton never overtly says is a problem with him for Lily, but probably figures into Lily's calculus (Wharton mainly talks about his Jewishness in the context of saying that Rosedale is more patient and able to face disappointment than others in his position because of what his people have dealt with over the centuries).
I have to admit that, unlike Ethan Frome and The Age of Innocence, it took me a while to get into this book. Perhaps, I picked up this book to read a story of Old New York and manners and was not ready for such an intense character study. But once I got to page 100, the last 250 pages went by in a flash. It is beautiful and eminently interesting. You will be interested in every twist in the story.
A couple of words of caution. If you buy this edition with the Anna Quindlen introduction, DON'T READ THE INTRODUCTION FIRST. It gives away too much in the first page--when I stopped reading it until after I finished--and the rest of the introduction gives away the rest of the plot. Finally, as with Jane Austen books, the actions of the male characters are often either inscrutable or irrational. It may be that men actually acted like this in the early 20th Century (or 19th for Austen). But I think it more likely that Wharton is misconstruing the male characters in ways that male authors almost always do with female characters. But this is a minor flaw, especially since Lily is so central to this book.

I realize that this book is a commentary on turn of the century society in New York, but the author drags the reader into that setting too deeply and the entire experience of reading the book becomes unpleasant. The writing is excellent and the personal battles that the characters face are compelling, so I think I would have enjoyed reading the book more if it did not focus so much on social galas and proper manners. For me it simply did not translate to modern times well, though I can see how it earned its acclaim.

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

America and Europe of the 1800s were stiff, gilded, formal place, full of "old" families, rigid customs and social transgressions. Especially for women.

And nobody chronicled them better than Edith Wharton, who spun exquisitely barbed novels out of the social clashes of the late nineteenth century. "The House of Mirth" is one of her darker stories, where scandals and lack of conformity trigger a tragic downward spiral for a vibrant woman.

Like most not-so-rich women, Lily Bart is on the prowl for a marriage to keep her in luxury and affluent circles. What's more, she has a rapid intellect and striking looks, but she is also a habitual liar who defies society's strictures (she gambles and smokes). Her only friend is Lawrence Seldon, but she is determined not to marry for love alone.

Unfortunately, her schemes and plans start to collapse -- her adoring suitors either aren't rich enough, or her independent spirit sends her off. Her desperation becomes even more intense as she finds herself in the thick of a scandal, spun up by a malicious society matron to cover up her own affair. With her reputation in ruins, Lily's life spirals down into a new life of unemployment, poverty, and the final tragedy.

Edith Wharton always paid a lot of attention to a woman's restricted life in the Gilded Age, and how scandals, unconventionality and society's hypocrisy could ruin them. But "The House of Mirth" pays more attention to this than most -- it's a bleakly realistic story, unflinchingly showing Lily's slow descent into miserable loneliness.

Despite that, Wharton's writing is pure flowering poetry with a knack for evocation ("Her small pale face seemed the mere setting of a pair of dark exaggerated eyes"), and has a sensual quality with all the descriptions of silks, plants, soft light and luxurious mansions. And she vividly portrays the upper echelons of New York society at the time -- affairs, gossip and gilded salons -- as well as the restricted lives of women

But Wharton is just as capable of describing the darker, sadder world that Lily falls into ("... blurred the gaunt roof-lines, threw a mauve veil over the discouraging perspective of the side streets"). Sedoesn't pull any punches with the tragic finale, which has a distinct air of inevitability about it -- no fairy-tale last-minute save by a Prince Charming.

Lily starts out the book as a glimmering satellite of society, who can be rather selfish and cruel, but who nevertheless gains some sympathy because she just doesn't deserve everything that happens. The cruel, glittering society of the time had no room for women who stood outside the lines, and Lily's slow downward spiral is an illustration of this -- she's driven into miserable poverty and drug addiction. Lovely.

"The House of Mirth" is anything but mirthful -- it's the study of a woman's slow downfall, and the cruel society that left her friendless and disgraced. Haunting and vivid.

It's not that consecrated writers of classic, canonical literature need highwayscribery's imprimatur, but this tale of a pretty girl's perils gets an A-plus.

The book was a Christmas gift from the scribe's sister-in-law Laura and he is grateful to her for the journey through late 19th Century New York City's high social class.

The greatest revelation in devouring this dense, but delicious tome is more personal than universal for the scribe determined that, after following Breton and Cocteau and Celine and the whole modernist crowd for so long, he writes most like...Edith Wharton (?).

Indeed, born to it, Wharton breezily confects a high-tone, baroque, and detailed English of the kind the scribe concocted, in a wheezing fashion, if not a breezy one, in his own "The Sidewalk Smokers Club."

Reading Wharton is work. Don't dare if you're intimidated by 446 pages of tiny type filled-in with long sentences, characterized by many clauses, each of which slices the onion of truth a little more as you catch your breath so as to finish.

the scribe grew up in New York and is a product of its fine public school system and the fact he would approve, in the snobbish sense, of Wharton's prose may say a lot about how much our English teachers of adolescence ultimately affect our tastes.

But enough about the personal.

"The House of Mirth" is an allusion to the high society world a mostly low-born girl of remarkable beauty, Lily Bart, would like to reside in.

This is the story of a pretty girl's perils; not a pretty girl who has a job and a car and a sense of her own projection, but an old-fashioned pretty girl who was raised to behave as an ornament, whose fundamental purpose is to complete elegant tableaux.

Lily Bart moves amongst the sun-kissed of New York society (if that's possible), but she is not truly of them. Her ticket to parties and outings of the rich people with whom she runs is her unique and singular beauty.

The story opens with Lily's reputation a bit tarnished at the age of 29 by the number of suitors she has passed on. We join her in the opening fade to her personal blossoming. Because we know her innermost thoughts and fears, we can cozy up to Lily in the same way we can cozy up to a criminal who has escaped jail and is fleeing soulless police officers and their barking dogs.

But she is not a good person, having bought lock-stock-and-barrel into her mother's vision of Lily as a piece of furniture that must be sold to the highest bidder.

Society turns out to be tricky and, as we meet Lily, her swinging season is fast passing. The story details Lily's descent out of society and into the working class where her beauty is naught but a hindrance to a gal trying to earn an honest dollar.

At first, it was a little hard for the scribe to determine what was going on and exactly whom had slighted or insulted whom at the parties portrayed by Wharton. These WASPy New Yorkers have always had a delicate touch and sometimes the scribe was forced to return to the scene of the crime, to see exactly what the crime was.

Keep reading. Soon enough you get the idea that being left off the yacht you've been invited onto is something like having a knife driven into your heart. Wharton literally provides an early 21st Century savage with a primer on manners so that by the time her one-time friend Judy Trenor runs into Lily at a restaurant, it is easy to see she has been slighted even though only the kindest of words have been exchanged between the ladies.

It's a different world assayed here, one where a woman who has never had sex dies in shame, the victim of innuendo and false rumor. A world where a soft kiss to a suitor's forehead is as "far" as things ever get.

Perhaps the only flaw in the story is the swift decline to death of Lily Bart after so arduous and complicated a fall from proper society. Maybe that's what Wharton was trying to say; that a lady that's good for nothing can find no way to live and will die shortly.

It would seem fatigue, hopelessness, and an addiction to a popular high of time, camphor, led to Lily's death, but all along feckless men and rapacious socialites either watch her drown impassively, or duck her head under when she comes up for air.

In the end, Lily's acts are characterized by nobility, but a self-destructive one that only serves to shorten her life. No Marxist scholar, Wharton nonetheless and slyly, throws light on the perils associated with trying to meet rich peoples' standards and codes of conduct.

Stick with your own kind, Wharton seems to be suggesting, because being rich when you're not can't be done.

America and Europe of the 1800s were stiff, gilded, formal place, full of "old" families, rigid customs and social transgressions. Especially for women.

And nobody chronicled them better than Edith Wharton, who spun exquisitely barbed novels out of the social clashes of the late nineteenth century. "The House of Mirth" is one of her darker stories, where scandals and lack of conformity trigger a tragic downward spiral for a vibrant woman.

Like most not-so-rich women, Lily Bart is on the prowl for a marriage to keep her in luxury and affluent circles. What's more, she has a rapid intellect and striking looks, but she is also a habitual liar who defies society's strictures (she gambles and smokes). Her only friend is Lawrence Seldon, but she is determined not to marry for love alone.

Unfortunately, her schemes and plans start to collapse -- her adoring suitors either aren't rich enough, or her independent spirit sends her off. Her desperation becomes even more intense as she finds herself in the thick of a scandal, spun up by a malicious society matron to cover up her own affair. With her reputation in ruins, Lily's life spirals down into a new life of unemployment, poverty, and the final tragedy.

Edith Wharton always paid a lot of attention to a woman's restricted life in the Gilded Age, and how scandals, unconventionality and society's hypocrisy could ruin them. But "The House of Mirth" pays more attention to this than most -- it's a bleakly realistic story, unflinchingly showing Lily's slow descent into miserable loneliness.

Despite that, Wharton's writing is pure flowering poetry with a knack for evocation ("Her small pale face seemed the mere setting of a pair of dark exaggerated eyes"), and has a sensual quality with all the descriptions of silks, plants, soft light and luxurious mansions. And she vividly portrays the upper echelons of New York society at the time -- affairs, gossip and gilded salons -- as well as the restricted lives of women

But Wharton is just as capable of describing the darker, sadder world that Lily falls into ("... blurred the gaunt roof-lines, threw a mauve veil over the discouraging perspective of the side streets"). Sedoesn't pull any punches with the tragic finale, which has a distinct air of inevitability about it -- no fairy-tale last-minute save by a Prince Charming.

Lily starts out the book as a glimmering satellite of society, who can be rather selfish and cruel, but who nevertheless gains some sympathy because she just doesn't deserve everything that happens. The cruel, glittering society of the time had no room for women who stood outside the lines, and Lily's slow downward spiral is an illustration of this -- she's driven into miserable poverty and drug addiction. Lovely.

"The House of Mirth" is anything but mirthful -- it's the study of a woman's slow downfall, and the cruel society that left her friendless and disgraced. Haunting and vivid.

A masterpiece if you follow the characters. Wharton really delivers a stunning portrait f what it was like to live in these times and the weight of the social constrictions. The text can be difficult but the reward is infinite. Lily Bart, a spoiled debutante, is past her sell-by date and must marry. But her refusal to sell herself ruins every plan. As the economic necessity t marry grows Lily gets more desperate and friends turn into enemies. Too late Lily comes to terms with her means and her goals, tragically.

one of the most depressing books that i have ever read. May be well written, may be a necessary social commentary,etc. but this woman's story left me sad and ill....if you are looking for a happy ending, this is not for you.

I have to admit that I genuinely enjoyed this novel, and I don't generally go for books of this genre. The story is truly an American tale of Romeo & Juliet, although the main characters, Lily Bart and Lawrence Selden, situation is not quite so "fated" as the original pair. What makes me truly appreciate this novel and what I believe makes it American is how, though the couple is indeed fated, they are more victims of their own free will. It is not so much society that has conspired against them, as much as they are products of that society; thus, their choices and failings are measured through the distorted values society has instilled in them. At any point within the story each might have gone to the other, but neither does, as they are both preoccupied with their appearance.
The ending was a bit ironic, but to affect real change one cannot leave the reader with a happy ending and a feeling of satisfaction. We all know the reality of the time was quite the contrary.
Bravo Ms. Wharton!

Except for Undine Spragg from "The Custom of the Country," I've yet to read a novel from E. Wharton wherein I cannot painfully relate. From the joy and madness of unrequited passion to hopes and dreams pulled asunder, I've been there and done that only to have Edith bring it all back to life every time I pick up one of her novels. What an eye she possesses; what an imagination! "The House of Mirth" is a shocking and honest disection of how cruelly society can work to crush those of us whom dare to be daringly unique and follow the beat of a different heart. I do agree with another reader's comment that the story suffers from "too much detail," but God...how achingly beautiful she writes. The story's ending left me grasping for a comprehension I am still unable to locate. While I didn't particularly enjoy this journey, it's only because a raw nerve was touched. To be sure, such reaction is proof of a genius at work.

The House of Mirth is undoubtedly one of the most poignant and heart-wrenching American classics.

While those of the Jane Austen persuasion spend the entirety of her novels waiting for the ultimate moment wherein the mishaps will be cleared and the characters will finally admit to each other all they need to admit so that past regrets pave present happiness, the House of Mirth is a tragedy of a message...or word... unspoken.

The love story between Lawrence Selden and Lily Bart is heart-wrenching because it is so palpable, so infinite, so evitable and yet so hopeless. Lily's personal sacrifices on account of her love and her untimely demise leave a painful gulp in your throat and a tug at your heart.

If only... If only.... You can't help repeating as you turn the final page.

Lily Bart is often listed as one of the most important and intriguing characters in, not only Edith Wharton's world, but the 20th Century. She is a serene product of the Gilded Age: a woman whose marriageable commodity is threaded with an astute sense of pride and independence. A few mis-steps ( hapless and innocent ) and Lily is thrown from the Society which petted and embraced her to a world where she is utterly useless. Dejected and most certain of her meaningless and empty offering to society, Lily's tragedy is not in losing what she had in the social spectrum yet in what she never gained: an outlet for her broad mind, her engaging and humourous wit, the strength to acknowledge, admit and accept a love that just slightly evades her.

This novel is beautiful and frustrating and dire and tragic and devastating and golden. It awakes emotions that prompt a physical response. You will wring your hands, bite back tears, shout mercilessly to a kind of mirror- ---- you know that your voice is lost in a vacuous portal --- that Wharton holds all of the puppet strings that you, like Lily and Lawrence Selden will be washed out amidst a sea of conniving and social climbing villains who permeated an age of lust, heartlessness and greed.

It's a wonderful read.

Lily Bart lives in the House of Mirth, which according to a biblical passage, is the house of fools; the house of mourning is reserved for the wise. Lily Bart is no fool and she struggles throughout to hold on to her permanent truth (she won't "Bart"er her self, after all). Her permanent truth however, can not take root or give her entry into the house that she longs for, where luxury and sumptuous environs would satify her psychic need for material comfort. Hence, she is outside the realm of her longing and falls down on the cold realities and away from the comforts provided by the house of mirth. I was a teenager the last time I cried while reading a book. I did cry, however, several times while reading the final chapter of The House of Mirth, which in my world is a testament to the transient beauty that Edith Wharton captures in this remarkable tale.

All great novels about women were written in the nineteenth century. As everyone knows. But why? Perhaps the potential for plots that boiled with the social, sexual, and dramatic conflicts women faced every day. Whereas in the twentieth century and beyond their lives play out even duller than us poor men. Exceptions to the rule? All within spitting distance of the nineteenth century: SISTER CARRIE, late Henry James and, at a rather long spit, WOMEN IN LOVE. But for me THE HOUSE OF MIRTH published in 1905 tops the list. Written not by a man but a woman. Whose affinities with the Brontes, while not immediately apparent, are strong indeed. But the social world of Lily Bart separates her from all her predecessors. The very gilded, very rigid, social world of 1890’s New York. Lily Bart’s brand becomes tarnished; the marriage market rejects her. Tragic. But in an American way that affects us much more than Madame This or Madame That residing in France or Russia on that godawful continent of Europe.

Though "Age of Innocence" may be more famous, with a well-known film to spread its story, I felt that this novel was better. Wharton provides the reader with a well-woven tapestry of despair and tragedy. I felt myself wishing that Lily would take the initiative, DO something to stop her slow decline into poverty and drugs, but at the same time, as an amateur literary critic, knowing that in her inability to do so lay the whole point of the book. The description was wonderful, the subsidiary characters excellently drawn, and the ending powerful. I did not particularly appreciate the stereotyping of the Jewish character, but no doubt that expressed the feelings of upper class New York at the time, and so I reluctantly accepted it in my heart. Nothing, especially retrospective viewing of ethnocentrism, can take away from Edith Wharton's rank as one of the great American writers.

No mirth in this sad story of the decline of a beautiful woman in 1890's New York. No grins at all. Not one smile. Edith Wharton, I surmise, would have easily made the cut as an Oprah selection. Lily Bart is stunningly beautiful but poor, and ladies of her day had few choices about changing their life situation. Marriage, a good marriage to a rich and interesting man, eludes Lily, and the years are hard on her. Gossip begins to follow her, though none of it is warranted, and every day brings more and more misery. It won't surprise you to learn that the story ends in Lily's death.

Prior to reading The House of Mirth, I had read both The Age of Innocence and Ethan Frome. The House of Mirth deals with moneyed New York families, as does The Age of Innocence, but The House of Mirth has a more serious tone and a more tragic storyline, in that the main character is a woman who is a victim of her times. Lily Bart lives in an era when to be poor is the worst punishment of New York society. The idea of having to work for a living is untenable. Her goal in life is to marry well, but she struggles with the idea of abandoning her goals for true happiness just to marry well. The story deals with her misadventures in society, and the sometimes painful price her relatives and friends extract from her in exchange for financial support. This is a very enjoyable, although sad, novel, and I recommend it particularly to those who have already read some Edith Wharton and wish to round out their selection of writing.

The House of Mirth introduces the reader to Lily Bart, a woman living in the late 1800's in New York City. Both her parents have passed away leaving her with little income. She resides with her Aunt and lives way beyond her means. As a child she was part of high society and even though truthfully she cannot afford this life anymore she is opposed to dinginess and cannot think of living any other way. Thus she faces the task of marrying one of the non-desirable eligible bachelors in her social circles or not marrying, not being able to keep up her lifestyle and having to join a lower social circle.

This book was truly refreshing. This was my first time reading Wharton and I loved her writing style and character/place description. If you love classics I would definitely recommend the House of Mirth as one not to miss!

This book is not an "upper." If you're looking for something light to read during Spring Break, don't choose this one. You'll be depressed for a month. It's a good read, though, if by the word "good," one intends to say "thought-provoking" or "contemplative." After I finished this book, I couldn't stop talking about it. I made all my friends watch the film (because I knew they'd never read a book like this), and I sat back and watched with twisted amusement the black fury that resulted from their expectation that this would be a story with a happy ending. I know, I have problems.
The book is all about a girl called Lily. She's a young woman who's been raised by her wealthy relative, but whose expensive taste in fashion and friends proves to be her downfall.
Apparently this story is meant to make us step back and examine society. We are supposed to tilt our heads, squint, and walk away with a sense that poor Lily Bart was wronged by the world she lived in. I'm not saying that's not the case. However, I think there's another chunk of truth to gnaw on. When I finished reading this book, I sat there thinking for a bit, and I realized that the protagonist destroyed her reputation, and, ultimately her life, over a bunch of frilly dresses. I thought that was the saddest part of all. Poor Lily Bart was so enslaved by her addiction to pretty things, and so unable to foresee the consequences of her actions, that in the end she was ruined because she couldn't walk past Saks without walking in. Now THAT is a real tragedy.

Two people telling a story: one has lived it while the other has not. Which would you believe? Most would say the first for there would be no bias, no lies, and no overstatements. This definitely applies to Edith Wharton's The House of Mirth, a novel set in the early 1900's. When Wharton accounts the dismal life of Lily Bart and her continuous struggle to fit into upper crust New York, the reader senses that the author is writing an autobiography: the feelings, the thought process, and the actions of the protagonist are indeed too realistic for any reader to deny.

A look into the history of America during the writing and publication of the book is vital for understanding why Lily fails but still struggles. At the turn of the twentieth century, America was passing through its post-war era of the Gilded Age, a period of thirty years where extravagant displays of American wealth filled many cities. New York is no exception of course. Born and raised in New York aristocracy during this time, Wharton depicts the bitter and malice realities of living and partaking in it through the influence of Bertha, the antagonist, on Lily's life.

New York City had just become a world of extremes, with millionaires living on one block and homeless living across in tenements. Nobles would abolish their standards just to become more famous and richer. People did not follow their dignity or moral sense, but rather thought with stone hearts and money-driven minds. In this savage culture where feasting on others meant a better stature for oneself, there is evidently no room for mercy, love, or acceptance. Of course, in this sort of atmosphere, Lily finds it almost impossible to fit in or even enjoy her life.

A little research on the book title reveals valuable information. The title of the book is directly taken from the Ecclesiastes verse, "The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth," illustrating that Wharton believed her society to be not only foolish but also vain. Besides the social issues, Wharton realized that money is an easy means of opening doors to those who have it, but a problem maker to those who lack it. Unfortunately, the protagonist does not have it, but the antagonist, Bertha, does.

Bertha is the antithesis of Lily, as one enjoys money while the other dreams of it; one becomes free while the other becomes enslaved. The extremity between both lives illustrates that aristocratic life during the early twentieth century was a mere cover that hid a more treacherous and villainous lifestyle.

Since this book does not only offer a great outlook of American history but also a female's struggle to marry and fit socially, I advice all those that face this problem to read it and learn from Lily's mistakes.

It took me all of my adult life to get around to reading this book, and I am glad I finally did, even though it was a terribly depressing story. Wharton's stunning, if dramatic, portrayal of Lily Bart's downfall was well-written and authentic. It was a critical social commentary on the lives and morals of the wealthy of that era....how they lived and schemed, their manipulations and gossiping, and how they can bring someone down.

Lily is 29, unmarried, with no money, dependent on others to provide her with a roof over her head. I think Wharton makes the reader feel Lily's increasing panic as her life get worse and worse, as her efforts to keep her head above water get more and more difficult.

Lily Bart is beautiful, but by the standards of her era, she is not young. She is honorable, but she is not good. She is devoted to luxury and dissipation. She is "so evidently the victim of the civilization that produced her, that the links of her bracelet seemed like manacles chaining her to her fate."

Lily, the presumptive heiress of Mrs. Peniston, the wealthy aunt with whom she lives, enjoys playing cards for money, a vice that leads her to accumulate a debt she cannot pay. The debt puts her in the power of a dishonorable acquaintance and places her on a Dantesque journey downward through the social levels of wealthy New York pleasure seekers during the late 19th century.

Lily has feelings for Selden, a bachelor lawyer, but does he have them for her? And can he save Lily from the fate that awaits her at the end of her declining trajectory? These are the questions that maintain suspense during this entertaining cautionary tale.

This book is notable because it gives the reader an inside look at the ultra-rich old-money upperclass of a century ago.

The main character, Lily Bart, I found totally unlikeable. One can't feel sorry for someone who has had boundless opportunities to get a better deal in life than all but a few, but she squanders all of her opportunities because none meet her ideal of perfection.

What she's looking for is a life of being ultra-rich where she can boss around an army of servants and never have to do any work, and her only acceptable route for getting there is to marry someone that rich. But it's not enough that her husband merely be filthy rich, but that the money be old money and not new money, that he be good looking and intelligent. This, of course, is all too much for anyone to ask for. So she rejects the man who has old money and is good looking but is as dumb as a brick. She rejects the man who is smart and filthy rich but is fat and ugly and, oh my god, Jewish! And she rejects the man who is good looking and smart, but merely an upper middle class lawyer who can never buy her two mansions full of servants.

Lily is also horrified at the notion of actually EARNING money. The process by which men become super-rich repulses her (which is why only inherited money is pure).

You don't necessarily have to like the main character in order for a book to be a good book. But I found the book hard reading, mostly due to all the names that are thrown at the reader which soon become very hard to keep track of, and the oblique manner in which so many of the books major plot points are described, making it easy for the casual reader to get completely lost.

I didn't like this book, but I guess I didn't hate it - that's why it gets 3 stars.

Wharton's dialogue between people is hard to sift through. I had the feeling like I wasn't always understanding what people were saying to each other. It's frustrating to not have any of the relationships terribly fleshed out and then to feel like you're not even getting the exchanges between them half the time. Maybe it was the writing style of the time...but I feel like other comparable novels from the same time period were a little bit plainer in text and more easily decipherable in meaning.

The descriptions are nice, I will say that. But at times some of them seem very minute, and then other times like there are pieces missing in the situation that's happening before you. You will read all about nice details of a scene in Monte Carlo and then later on wonder how in the world Lily ended up in some place. I also feel like I read a fair amount about how important the clothes of characters were but the details of them weren't very elaborate. For someone who spent so much time with rich people, I didn't often get a very clear picture of what they looked like, and what their surroundings looked like, just their habits of entertainment. There were things here and there, but they weren't in abundance.

I get that this is a period novel, it's supposed to discuss how important social circles and missteps in them were, and the intricate games of balance and power that went on. But I can't help but feel this book was a bit drab. The subject matter doesn't have to be limiting, but I felt it was here. The plot wasn't terribly exciting though through Wharton's writing it did leave me scratching my head about what would come next at times.

I liked characters such as Gerty and Lawrence Selden, but I didn't care for the main character herself, Lily Bart. Lily is a pretty woman hanging around the rich and trying to make herself useful and amusing to them in order to continue vicariously living off their money and entertainment. She gets careless and then doesn't have the backbone to stand up and declare the rumors untrue. It seems like Lily spends so much time beguiling others and going through so much trouble (hanging out with people she doesn't really like and running up debts to keep up) and then keep wasting opportunity after opportunity. Why does she work so hard running herself into the ground and then squander every last opportunity?

Lily just isn't the kind of character you like. She is shallow, and then blames her bad characteristics on her upbringing even though she knows better. She's the kind of girl who never takes responsibility for herself, never has a clear and worthy goal in life, isn't independent, and never allows herself to go after the things that are worthy that she wants.

-----SPOILER-----

Her death in the end is disappointing too. I'm not disappointed by a novel where everything doesn't work out nicely in the end, either. It's a suicide, but not really? She does it by accident, or she just doesn't care? It starts to say she thinks she can face tomorrow, and that she has plans to do something....I don't get it. Was that just the "warm fuzzies" feeling of death coming over her? Did she really feel that way? It's as if even her death, just like her life didn't mean anything. She didn't even have specific purpose in dying - a reason to kill herself or something - it just happened as a chance. And it leaves you wondering what the whole "word" thing was between Lily and Selden in the end. I just don't see the purpose in it.

Dark material for English Majors only.

Reading level: Difficult. There are literary allusions, French phrases, and subtle sophisticated dialog; not to mention a long list of characters that makes you wish you had a Who's Who.

Lily Bart needs to find a well-heeled husband. At first she's nonchalant and picky, but she becomes increasingly desperate. So the story will appeal more to the female audience.

The chore in places that it is to read, there are flashes of wit and literary brilliance that bring a smile.

This was my first experience with Edith Wharton, and I thoroughly enjoyed her writing. She has a way with words that can make ugly things beautiful and beautiful things, like the life Lilly Bart lived, seem ugly. Her knack for description of people and places was spot on - you can really see the characters and imagine them going about their daily lives.

The House of Mirth is the story of Lilly Bart, an aging socialite who has yet to marry and has little money with which to romp around in the high society with which she is obsessed. Most of the book is spent on her trials with failed attempts to snare a rich husband. In the process her name is muddied by frequent missteps and minute social faux paus. Her downfall is inevitable.

I found Miss Bart repugnant and unsympathetic. Her problems in life were completely brought on herself, and yet she constantly blames her upbringing. The fact that she was cognizant of her pitfalls but continues to ignore them is something I deem worse than those around her who didn't se the illusion of their "glorious" lifestyle.

I think the following paragraph shows both the beauty of Wharton's writing and the dinginess and incorrigibleness of Lilly Bart:

"She could not hold herelf much to blame for [her] ineffectiveness, and she was perhaps les to blame than she believed. Inherited tendencies had combined with early training to make her the highly specialized product she was: an organism as helpless out of its narrow range as the sea-anemone torn from the rock. She had been fashioned to adorn and delight; to what other end does nature round the rose leaf and paint the hummingbird's breast? And was it her fault that the purely decorative mission is less easily and harmoniously fulfilled among social beings than in the world of nature? That it is apt to be hampered by material necessities or complicated by moral scruples?"

Lilly Bart is objectified by society and objectifies herself to keep up the image. Even when moments break through for her to be herself and be a real woman, she shuns them and hides behind decorum and manners. Sure, that was how it was when she lived, but that doesn't mean that we have to think that it's right.

Which is a testament to Edith Wharton's writing that I enjoyed the narrative and turns of phrase so much despite wholly disliking the "protagonist".

Is victory in our culture reserved solely for small personal matters? Is its price always too high? Is its value negligible? This book, written in 1905, continually turns the smallest victories into major defeats. The House of Mirth is named after a passage in Ecclesiastes: "The heart of the wise is in the house of morning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth." I couldn't agree less. It galled me that this breathtakingly subtle book should end with what seems to me like a hammer blow to the human spirit. Well, only if one allows oneself an emotional response. If not, the novel ends with a literary parlor game. What is "the word which made all clear"? Cowardice? Money? Honor? Death? Defeat? Certainly not love -- that makes nothing clear. I was able to find only four things about The House of Mirth that would tell me it was not written by Henry James. Its range, which seems broader than anything James would attempt in a single work. Its linearity, its unbroken declining trajectory. Is anything James wrote so utterly tragic? So unrelentingly anti-capitalist? Strange that such a dour tale should be such a joy -- so enchanting -- to read....

This book is the story of someone who starts the book near the top of New York society, but descends into poverty and depression, primarily because of (1) her financial recklessness, and (2) her commitment-phobia (which prevents her from settling on a husband who can afford her extravagance, or on any other practical means of paying her expenses). To make matters worse, her parents never taught her any means of earning money besides marrying it.

On the positive side, this mostly-readable book tells a story of a time and place long gone (New York high society at the start of the 20th century) while telling a story about weaknesses that cause much suffering today.

Nevertheless, I can tell from this book why Wharton is not as popular as, say, Jane Austen. Her characters are either unsympathetic or colorless; her heroine means well and has scruples, but is so incompetent that I found it hard to root for her. Her prose is a bit uneven; her descriptions sometimes use three paragraphs where one would suffice, and her characters' conversations are so painfully indirect that I often could not figure out what the characters meant to say or do until many pages later.

This was the first book I've read by Edith Wharton and now I want to read them all. Her writing is so graceful and conveys so much of the inner turmoil of her characters that, beyond just enjoying the plot and characterizations, you can't help but be in awe of her skill as a writer and, to some extent, a philosopher. This book has all the elements of a really fine novel: romance, intrigue, tragedy. It is a superb glimpse into the early twentieth-century life of New York's high society. Lily Bart is a protagonist that you will not quickly forget.

For those individuals who complain about poorly developed characters, this is the book for you. Lily Bart, and most of the other characters in this novel, are well fleshed out. Athough Lily Bart is a classically flawed character, you understand her motivations and those of the other individuals reacting to her. The novel is quite readable and although I am not sure that it should have made the list of the top novels of the 20th century, it is certainly a worthwhile classic to read. It does not end happily; as Anna Quindlen states in the intro, you really can hear a heartbreak at the end of a novel.

This was the 2nd book I had to read in women's writing. The book does drag at times, and this is not the drum I march to. But in all honesty, this is a crucial study in women's writing. In no other book that I have read (even in the women's writing class) has the specific pains and tribulations women are subject to displayed so tragic and yet beautifully. Lily (the protagonist) is in a painfully realistic situation. She is victimizied by several people who represent different aspects of society. Even around her own mother she is not safe. Lily's own mother sees Lily's beauty as a measure of wealth to be invested. If I was writing a paper and could only use one book to represent American Women's Writing, chances are this would be it.

This is the third novel by Wharton I've read (the other two, of course, are Ethan Frome and The Age of Innocence). Unlike the others, The House of Mirth is an accessible read with characters one can relate to. Wharton's attention to detail is impressive (yet slightly boring), and the subtlety of how the story moves from fluff to tight human drama is superb.
Finally, despite being written a century ago the main theme of The House of Mirth is very much applicable to today's materialistic yuppie society. Great stuff!

I stumbled upon a review of the recent film of THE HOUSE OF MIRTH in the TLS and, in order to have the novel firmly fixed in my mind (that is, before the lush, seductive images of film forever eradicated Wharton's novel from me) I dragged my copy off the shelf for a re-read. It had been 16 years since I last read of Lily Bart and her life, and I didn't realize how much I had missed her. For me, this is one of the great reading experiences, one of a handful that make reading a book the deeply moving and human exchange that it is. Despite the distance of wealth, property, time and manners, Wharton manages to make Lily's world and life palpable to anyone who will listen. The clash of money, morals, personality and circumstance is infinitely developed and played out in front of a never fading natural world. Once again, I was deeply moved by Lily Bart and at the end, felt I had lost someone myself.

Until about a week ago, I had only a vague consciousness of Edith Wharton; although now, after reading The House of Mirth, I have a deep respect for her as a writer and I can't wait to read something else of hers.
She captures society and human nature so vividly that the incidents in the novel reminded me of some from my own experience. Wharton creates characters that seem to be modelled after real people - how else could such expression of their trues characters have been possible? Lily and Selden are deeply complex - much of their characters Wharton conveys simply through description of what they do not do and what they do not say, although you come to know these characters so well that you KNOW what they are really feeling. Its true that these characters are hard to accept as full-fledged heroes, but that is because they are truly human characters - they are not perfect, and yet there is a great deal of goodness in them, along with the flaws. It is important for the reader to remember that society has a stong pull and that it is almost impossible for someone brought up in a flawed society to be free from those flaws. The fact that Lily and Selden are not perfect, but human, makes them all the more endearing.
I also think that the way Wharton wrote was truly beautiful = she painted images so vividly that I could totally see the scenes she was describing. There are not long tedious paragraphs set aside for description of the setting, and yet, the reader can imagine exactly how everything looks. Wharton has such a comfortable natural ease with her words that none of it is awkward or showy - she picks the perfect words to convey emotions and moods, all through the way she writes. It's hard to really write about the way she writes, but I think that she is very talented. Her use of metaphor and imagery adds such complexity to an already lush story and the effect of this combination is truly thrilling and awesome. I don't know if all her readers feel this effect, but as I'm in an English class where I have to pay attention to things like diction and figurative language, the artistic qualities of The House of Mirth struck me.
I really loved this book and I couldn't stop reading it - and at the same time I didn't want it to end. It is indeed very emotional as other commentators have noted and I think that the fact that this work evokes such emotion is a testament to Wharton's true talent.
I don't agree with the idea that Lily saw no way out of her plight except death - her death (as I interpret it) was accidental and I think that she somehow finally had a new found sense of hope. It broke my heart the way Selden finally came to his senses at the last moment, but I don't think that any other ending would have been fitting.
I had to pick a book as an outside reading book for my 11th grade English class, and after briefly skimming the possiblities, I chose to read The House of Mirth. I read all 330 pages of it in less than a week and I don't regret my choice. Some might say that this isn't pleasure reading, but I found it very entertaining and it also got me thinking, a merit not usually bestowed upon pleasure reading books. It is very thought provoking and moving, as well as an excellent sketch of 1905 New York.
I've rambled a bit, but I definitely recommend this book to anyone who appreciates social history, New York life, human nature, love or a well written book!

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.

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.
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.

I was totally overwhelmed by 'The House of Mirth'. Although it was clear that Lily's short sightedness was responsible for her downfall, I find it difficult to pin point exactly why the character evoked such strong feelings of sympathy from me. Her beauty makes her captivating, and she is so naieve and inexperienced, that you cannot help but feel so much sadness when things take an inevitable turn for the worse. The ending was incredibly emotional, and so moving, illustrating the point that, at the end of the day, beauty will not secure success or fulfillment. I cannot reccomend this book highly enough - it is beautifully written with a complex yet incredibly loveable female protagonist. In my opinion, this book is underrated. It is certainly worthy of the title "Modern Classic."
(I would so appreciate anyone who could e-mail me with their views on this book. After reading it I have decided to write my university dissertation on this and some of Wharton's other masterpieces - [email protected]

Excellent view of life in the early 1900's among the New York rich, and by contrast the lives of ordinary people. Especially interesting was Wharton's descriptions of the different levels of upper class society, depending on how the people made their money and how they spent it. I read it in two days; couldn't put it down! It reads amazingly well for a book written at that time; you would expect convoluted, dense sentences but her writing style is clear. I felt as if I understood Lily Bart in the end and found her a sympathetic character, in spite of her scheming.

It's a little bit distressing in the result.

The woman Miss Lily Bart is the hero in her own world of

social prejudices about her role in society.

It is well written and reminds one at the end of Crane's Maggie.

We get an anthropological study of woman in New York society in the very early 20th century.

The flapper of the 20's was a reaction to this sort of

moral decay.

If you like old, fairly antiquated tales of turn-of-the-century aristocracy, then this book will please you. It is in fact extrememly well written, and causes us to feel for the main character. While I for one had a certain sense from the begiining that Lizzy Bart was doomed, that didn't stop me from feeling pained as I watched her try to save herself again and again. I recommend it! Not quite as tedious as "The Age of Innocence."

Edith Wharton's, The House of Mirth provides an intelligent portrayal of the "Gilded Age", reflected in the extravagant lifestyle of those daily participating in what was New York society. Readers are introduced to Lily Bart, a witty, smart and manipulative member of the higher class. After enduring serial tragedies in her life she finds herself in a financial predicament,unaccepted in her society. With the use of her beauty and charm, she adroitly finds her way back into the better side of economic wellness, seeping through the elegant façade of her surroundings. Her arrangements soon return to harm her instead of benefiting her.

This novel is an extremely smart and eye-opening look into the daily aspects of women and men's roles during the turn of the century (1905). Marriage played an essential part of women's lives, while society condoned men never marrying. For women, marriage was a way of escaping financial ruin or social shame-men being their saviors. Lily Bart the lead character in this novel transcends society's views on female roles and leads a self-governing life while maintaining social accord. False relationships and soon failing economic arrangements drive Miss Bart into never-ending poverty. She finds herself struggling to support the extravagant demands that her lifestyle requires; yet that she so vehemently refuses to depart. Miss Lily Bart's strong love for "the finer things in life" eventually clouds her increasingly harsh days and rapidly deteriorates into oblivion.

This book is divine fun, but I believe I liked it a bit better when I was younger because at a certain point the conflicts of romance began to bore me...when you're married, happily, and pursuing a career you love, all that social stuff begins to pall. Still, I like to write about it myself, and Wharton's style is exquisite. Of course, it's also a feminist novel, in that it examines a woman's "place" in a society that did not allow her to earn her own living... women couldn't even have their own apartments in those times. Actually, a lot is still the same, psychologically, for women.END

This is the same as so many. Written beautifully, interesting characterization, but the main character is not likable and the plot is somewhere between dull and non-existent! Lily is a spoiled brat who has no clue what she wants. She's witty but stupid. Over and over again she's forced to make the decision between love and money. She wants both so she always rejects offers of only one, solidifying her misery. Her helplessness to change herself, know herself, or even explain herself is pitiful to the point of nausea.

I did enjoy the book, and never felt like dropping it, so I wouldn't say it was boring. However, when it comes to the "society lady's" commentary it's far from the craftsmanship of Austen, and the ending fell a little flat. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel, because I certainly don't feel sorry for Lily. She had a setback or two, but no more than the average person and she had so many positives that she could have used in her own favor that she simply squandered.

Also, I can have very little respect for someone who in turn has so little respect for truth. It may be reality that truth isn't always appreciated as much as it should be, but to patronize and insult people to such a degree as to make out that truth has no value at all when faced with money and popularity is unjust, pessimistic, and rude.

This type of literature is not my favorite so I am not the most neutral reviewer. I did manage to finish it. I found it forgettable, however. Might have been good for an English Lit. class to compare with other books. But that was a long time ago. Not a book I would recommend to friends.

The House of Mirth is a wonderful novel describing New York Society at the turn of the century. Lily Bart is a socialite on the lookout for a rich husband. She is beautiful and feels that that is all she has or needs to offer. Her ending is predictably sad, but nonetheless you wish otherwise. Wharton is a master at describing the society of her time. The characters are very vivid, you can almost feel that you know them. Great book.

Lily has everything a woman would want--beauty, clothes, taste, and suitors. She has everything but money. And that makes all the difference. And the inevitable is happening. She is getting older every day. I became her in a way. I could relate to each of her reverses, could understand most of her reasonings. I was entrenched in her character and pushing her to please marry Selden--they so obviously loved each other! And yet Selden was weak. He could have reached out and did not. She spiralled downward and her friends watched disinterestedly--or perhaps just enough to provide some gossip about Lily. The final scene will tear your heart. It is the finest book I have read in a long time, no matter that it is nearly a century old. It speaks to the woman's heart today as it did then. It is a book I must have in my library forever.

I was totally overwhelmed by 'The House of Mirth'. Although it was clear that Lily's short sightedness was responsible for her downfall, I find it difficult to pin point exactly why the character evoked such strong feelings of sympathy from me. Her beauty makes her captivating, and she is so naieve and inexperienced, that you cannot help but feel so much sadness when things take an inevitable turn for the worse. The ending was incredibly emotional, and so moving, illustrating the point that, at the end of the day, beauty will not secure success or fulfillment. I cannot reccomend this book highly enough - it is beautifully written with a complex yet incredibly loveable female protagonist. In my opinion, this book is underrated. It is certainly worthy of the title "Modern Classic."
(I would so appreciate anyone who could e-mail me with their views on this book. After reading it I have decided to write my university dissertation on this and some of Wharton's other masterpieces - [email protected]

Excellent view of life in the early 1900's among the New York rich, and by contrast the lives of ordinary people. Especially interesting was Wharton's descriptions of the different levels of upper class society, depending on how the people made their money and how they spent it. I read it in two days; couldn't put it down! It reads amazingly well for a book written at that time; you would expect convoluted, dense sentences but her writing style is clear. I felt as if I understood Lily Bart in the end and found her a sympathetic character, in spite of her scheming.

It's a little bit distressing in the result.

The woman Miss Lily Bart is the hero in her own world of

social prejudices about her role in society.

It is well written and reminds one at the end of Crane's Maggie.

We get an anthropological study of woman in New York society in the very early 20th century.

The flapper of the 20's was a reaction to this sort of

moral decay.

If you like old, fairly antiquated tales of turn-of-the-century aristocracy, then this book will please you. It is in fact extrememly well written, and causes us to feel for the main character. While I for one had a certain sense from the begiining that Lizzy Bart was doomed, that didn't stop me from feeling pained as I watched her try to save herself again and again. I recommend it! Not quite as tedious as "The Age of Innocence."

Edith Wharton's, The House of Mirth provides an intelligent portrayal of the "Gilded Age", reflected in the extravagant lifestyle of those daily participating in what was New York society. Readers are introduced to Lily Bart, a witty, smart and manipulative member of the higher class. After enduring serial tragedies in her life she finds herself in a financial predicament,unaccepted in her society. With the use of her beauty and charm, she adroitly finds her way back into the better side of economic wellness, seeping through the elegant façade of her surroundings. Her arrangements soon return to harm her instead of benefiting her.

This novel is an extremely smart and eye-opening look into the daily aspects of women and men's roles during the turn of the century (1905). Marriage played an essential part of women's lives, while society condoned men never marrying. For women, marriage was a way of escaping financial ruin or social shame-men being their saviors. Lily Bart the lead character in this novel transcends society's views on female roles and leads a self-governing life while maintaining social accord. False relationships and soon failing economic arrangements drive Miss Bart into never-ending poverty. She finds herself struggling to support the extravagant demands that her lifestyle requires; yet that she so vehemently refuses to depart. Miss Lily Bart's strong love for "the finer things in life" eventually clouds her increasingly harsh days and rapidly deteriorates into oblivion.

This book is divine fun, but I believe I liked it a bit better when I was younger because at a certain point the conflicts of romance began to bore me...when you're married, happily, and pursuing a career you love, all that social stuff begins to pall. Still, I like to write about it myself, and Wharton's style is exquisite. Of course, it's also a feminist novel, in that it examines a woman's "place" in a society that did not allow her to earn her own living... women couldn't even have their own apartments in those times. Actually, a lot is still the same, psychologically, for women.END

This is the same as so many. Written beautifully, interesting characterization, but the main character is not likable and the plot is somewhere between dull and non-existent! Lily is a spoiled brat who has no clue what she wants. She's witty but stupid. Over and over again she's forced to make the decision between love and money. She wants both so she always rejects offers of only one, solidifying her misery. Her helplessness to change herself, know herself, or even explain herself is pitiful to the point of nausea.

I did enjoy the book, and never felt like dropping it, so I wouldn't say it was boring. However, when it comes to the "society lady's" commentary it's far from the craftsmanship of Austen, and the ending fell a little flat. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel, because I certainly don't feel sorry for Lily. She had a setback or two, but no more than the average person and she had so many positives that she could have used in her own favor that she simply squandered.

Also, I can have very little respect for someone who in turn has so little respect for truth. It may be reality that truth isn't always appreciated as much as it should be, but to patronize and insult people to such a degree as to make out that truth has no value at all when faced with money and popularity is unjust, pessimistic, and rude.

This type of literature is not my favorite so I am not the most neutral reviewer. I did manage to finish it. I found it forgettable, however. Might have been good for an English Lit. class to compare with other books. But that was a long time ago. Not a book I would recommend to friends.

The House of Mirth is a wonderful novel describing New York Society at the turn of the century. Lily Bart is a socialite on the lookout for a rich husband. She is beautiful and feels that that is all she has or needs to offer. Her ending is predictably sad, but nonetheless you wish otherwise. Wharton is a master at describing the society of her time. The characters are very vivid, you can almost feel that you know them. Great book.

Lily has everything a woman would want--beauty, clothes, taste, and suitors. She has everything but money. And that makes all the difference. And the inevitable is happening. She is getting older every day. I became her in a way. I could relate to each of her reverses, could understand most of her reasonings. I was entrenched in her character and pushing her to please marry Selden--they so obviously loved each other! And yet Selden was weak. He could have reached out and did not. She spiralled downward and her friends watched disinterestedly--or perhaps just enough to provide some gossip about Lily. The final scene will tear your heart. It is the finest book I have read in a long time, no matter that it is nearly a century old. It speaks to the woman's heart today as it did then. It is a book I must have in my library forever.

I read The House of Mirth for the first time in high school and it quickly became one of my favorite books. I have reread it often. It is a sad story, a story that can (and probably did) happen anytime, anywhere. Lily Bart deserved better. As for Selden, I have always believed that he was too hard on her. Selden was no better than the people who turned their backs on Lily.

The House of Mirth is Wharton's first big novel, and it isn't as good as some of her later works. Nevertheless, Lily Bart, the central character, is well crafted as a woman who cannot reconcile her emotional desires with her deep-seated hatred of what she calls "dinginess" -- financial poverty. The book meticulously depicts her long, slow social downfall as she runs out of money and becomes the victim of malicious rumors spread by her enemies. Ultimately, she cannot marry the man she really loves because he is not rich enough.
The House of Mirth certainly has plenty of juicy elements -- sex scandals, blackmail, gambling, unrequited love, exotic trips to France, etc. It is also a great character study, particularly of Lawrence Selden, who is portrayed as an outside observer looking in on the social world of New York, much like the reader is doing. The social world of the novel is based on the most minute details of all social graces; the book has to be read pretty carefully if you want to get the most from it. Just as all the characters analyze every detail of every other character's actions, so too must the reader. Don't try to use this book as brain candy on a long plane flight. If you've got the time, it's well worth reading, despite some of the cheesy plot twists towards the end.

It's heady stuff, The House of Mirth. The Land of Coca-Cola
Has thrown up one contender for the crown just dropped by Zola . . .

Miss Lily Bart: she toils not, her head's in such a spin.
Nobody understands her: the poor girl's grown quite thin.
Gold-digging's just such sordid work, it really wears her down:
The furs, the hats, the gloves, the `rocks'---the cost of each new gown!
And when the bills start piling up (or so she tells dear Gertie)
She may be forced (whisper it not) to get her own hands dirty.
She has such dreadful nightmares! Heart of darkness isn't in it:
"The dinginess! The dinginess!" (Discords from a spinet . . .)
And as for boyfriend Selden, well, he's hardly ever there,
Which cuts her up most dreadfully---the thing is, do we care?
All Lily's into is DISPLAY: decoratively floral.
We know this flippant flirt and jilt will end up glugging chloral.
Manipulative, sycophantic, mercenary, vain--
Yet she's our tragic HEROINE?! Will someone please EXPLAIN?

As an indictment of the carelessly cruel amorality of the rich, I thought this book was far more powerful than The Great Gatsby, and Lily Bart a much more poignant and sympathetic protaganist than Jay Gatsby. Though written over a century ago, it's still as timely now as it was then, showing the endurance of a true classic.

This is a very well written novel of manners set in New York at the turn of the century. It is clear that the author is throughly familiar with her subject. However, since we have turned another century, the plot and characters are perhaps too predictable for 21st century tastes. But if you like Jane Austen types, this may be worth a quick read.

Review of "The House Of Mirth"
Stephanie Grumbacher
Edith Wharton's classic, "The House of Mirth", while written well, was flawed in several ways. Wharton's over-dramatic tale of a social climbing girl who needed to grow up lacked emotion altogether. Lily Bart, who is considered a heroine in nineteenth century literature, drags on in unhappiness for 310 pages without ever stopping to think logically about her money or use of time, ending up poor and lonely. She is what women of 2004 would look down upon with disgust: fragile and weak. Yet the book pulls the reader in by trying to understand why Bart would do the things she does. The book becomes seemingly unbearable by Bart's actions, but addicting in a way that you want to see if Lily will come to her senses.
What the novel lacks in description it makes up for in its accurate portrayal of high profile society in the 1800's. Socialites like Bertha Dorset, who used their popularity and "rank" to keep her hold on people. Simon Rosedale thought that his money could get him whatever he wanted, including Lily. As for the dynamic in Lawrence Seldon and Bart's relationship, it lacked depth altogether. It seemed Lily only had one love, that being herself. "The House of Mirth", while an interesting look into the past, was overly drawn out and almost painful to read at points.

I first heard of this book when I read about it becoming a movie. The synopsis I was given piqued my interest, so I decided to check it out. What an amazing story. I was drawn to the character of Lily Bart and her world and her struggles. The details Wharton uses put you right into turn of the century New York. A beautifully written novel, I would encourage anyone and everyone to read The House of Mirth.

This is an incredibly well-written book, with great period detail. It is far more believable and engrossing than Kate Chopin's The Awakening, which is similar in many ways. In response to the reviewer who disliked Lily Bart: her questionable character was part of what kept me interested in the book. Is she a hero or isn't she? I'm not sure, and I like it that way.

Excellent Excellent Excellent. One can really grasp on to the characters in this book. The main protagonist, Lily Bart, is both pitiable and deplorable in her own unique ways. It is a great book to read when you want to take a break from the usual paperback.

The 2008 Quill Pen Classics paperback -- this edition -- has too many instances of printing ("typesetting") errors that mangle words or create new, erroneous ones. (Spell/Syntax checker was out of order?) Result: a terribly disjointed reading experience. Can't finish reading the book. Have to return it and try one from a different publisher.

This Wharton masterpiece (one of my faves), "House of Mirth," is ruined by the publisher's sloppiness.

This book is a visual tapestry of culture, society, love, and circumstance in the beginning of the twentieth century. The restraint and self-abnegation displayed by the characters seems typical of the era, and this is a perfect, yet saddening vignette of the turn-of-the-century American high society. Took me days to get over.

I was looking forward to reading this book for a long time, but found it totally lame. Why, exactly, am I supposed to identify or sympathize with Lily? I found her greedy and stupid and totally lacking in self control or basic common sense. I admit a century has passed between her life and mine, but her problems remind me of my contemporaries who have no money because they *spend* too much money. How is that heroic?
Ironically, as she's whining about being relegated to second-tier society circles, she describes them as painters and actors and a crowd with a lot more character than her high society friends. Sounds like victory rather than chrisis, but Lily finds it dreadfully "dingy". Boo Hoo. Get a grip Lily, millions of people live without money. Ultimately, it's not all that tragic.

One of the only books i've bought at the store.com that I actually read all the way through and liked. Couldn't put it down. The mimimalization of women by society still exists in this fashion. Hard to believe she died in 37. She is one of the best writers I've read in a while. Better than Henry James

Someone once told me that readers like to read books where he or she can relate to the main character(s). I could not relate to Lily Bart's character. To me, it was written not as a book of leisurely reading,but as a book of lessons. The author, Edith Wharton, was demonstrating the evils of greed and that those who seek wealth are willing to give up their own morals to get it. The lessons given in the book were my only enjoyment. This is why I gave this literary piece a three. If I had spare time on my hands to read a book, it would not be this one. Thank you.

if you are an x-philer and you keep track of your favorite cast you would know that gillian anderson is about appear in the movie "the house of mirth"! this spurred me into reading the book but in the end i loved it! Edith Warton has a previllege of describing really great a woman in those days... trying to stand on her own feet! i love that! WOMEN RULE! hehe

If you don't like it, just open the book in chapter 13, where Lily gets into the carriage. That's a fine piece of writing. You almost feel like her. I love this book. Sometimes I felt like killing her, but that was the way things were in the society of that time.