Why I want to leap into the pages of a James novel and shake these guys up

Who knew?, but Strether (in Henry James's "The Ambassadors") has become quite the ladies' man - shall we count the ways? He's sent on his ambassadorial mission to Paris to "rescue" Mrs. Newsome's son, Chad, and bring him home to Woollett, Conn., to run the family business, whatever that may be - and we learn, amazingly late in the novel, that Strether is essentially engaged to Mrs. N., but hardly in love with her - he's in love with her money. (And contemptuous of it, no doubt, in that it's earned through business and commerce and not just inherited.) He's basically picked up in Europe by Miss Gostrey (?), who calls herself a guide but to me is entirely mysterious - it's not clear what she does or how she earns money - she seems more like an escort, though a chaste one. Strether loves talking to her about all his problems, at great length and entirely circuitously, in the Jamesian manner, and he seems smitten with her - though we suspect she's just angling for the biggest catch. Then, hoping to meet the young woman whom Chad has apparently fallen in love with and who is keeping him in Europe, Strether gets invited to an artist's party - a sculptor who I think may be modeled on Giacometti? - and he's taken again, first with Mme de Villement (?), who it takes him far too long to realize is the mother the beloved - for a perceptive guy, supposedly, he is really thick - and at last Chad introduces Strether to Mlle de Villemont, and Strether is "taken" again. All this said, but I think the person he's really fallen in love with is Chad's friend, an affable young artist called Little Belham - their extensive conversations are extremely flirtatious, whether Strether (or James for that matter) knows it or not. One thing about these James characters: none seems very American. We Americans are known, rightly, and often characterized for, being blunt and direct and open and honest. Not James characters. Strether, for one, is the worst ambassador in the world. It takes him for ever to learn the facts on the ground, when a simple inquiry or two could lead him to the information he needs. When he finally asks Little Belham a straightforward question, LB notes that it was "charming" of Strether not to have done so earlier. There's way too much charm here, if that's what it is, and the characters have way too much time on their hands. Life in a novel can assume it's own pace - novels have a time-world of their own - but I know I'm not alone in wanting to leap into the pages here and shake these guys up and help them find a life, find a purpose - or get a job, at least.