Friday, February 17, 2012
The cruelty of the Princess Casamassima
I'm not exactly racing like the wind through "The Princess Casamassima," and that's not entirely Henry James's fault, well maybe a little his fault, not that he'd care - it is without a doubt a Jamesian novel in some ways, very self-reflective, weaving its way through incredibly long sentences with dozens of subordinate clauses, each slightly clarifying the preceding clause and breathlessly anticipate modifier in waiting. But in other ways, as I've noted in earlier posts, it's highly unusual for James: very focused on class relations, on class conflict, on the lives of the less privileged, on rage against society. In the second part of the novel, about 200 pages or so in, The eponymous princess emerges as an potentially evil and destructive character: Paul warns the "hero," Hyacinth (!) that the Princess is a "monster," but H. can't see that - he's star struck. In the section I read last night he goes to visit the Princess in her town house - she's very eager to learn more about him, but it's as if she's studying a curious specimen or traveling to a quaint village. He doesn't pick this up at all; he talks about wanting to see her again and she's very excited about this - which he takes entirely in the wrong way, and then is stunned that she apparently goes off to her country house or some such place and leave no message about when she may return. He goes to great trouble to bind a book of Tennyson poems for her (that's his trade - bookbinder, but wishes it were poet), and the footman gruffly suggests he can leave it for her, but H. wisely decides not to leave it : he will give it to her when he sees her again. Cruel woman, thoughtless - she thinks she's a radical humanitarian, but she has no empathy. In fact, is she a princess at all? Or did she just marry into rank?
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