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3.25 AVERAGE
3.25 AVERAGE
final esperado pero me ha jodido igual
no es una historia de amor
no es una historia de amor
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
N/A
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
It feels like the novel could be longer and then it comes to a close.
I struggle with what and how to define this. It seems very much satirical, none of the characters in the story are all that attractive, Daisy is certainly compelling, if a little unbelievable, her mother sounds like she's deeply into some opiate, Randolf the most credible. I imagine at the time it created quite a stir. Now it seems pathetic or inconsequential. Maybe I should stick to contemporary fiction....
8th book of 2021. Artist for this review is French painter Gustave Courbet.
A short novella with limited setting, with one notable place in the novel being Château de Chillon—the setting of perhaps my favourite ever poem, Bryon’s “The Prisoner of Chillon”. It is an island castle in Lake Geneva, Switzerland. Near the end of the story, the male character, Winterbourne (a great surname), quotes Byron to himself, but, alas, not “The Prisoner of Chillon”. I will, instead; here is Byron’s prisoner on the castle and the lake below. He refers to Lake Geneva, though calls it by a different name, Lake Leman:
“The Château de Chillon”—1874
I was also reminded of Middlemarch, actually, and wondered if there is a deliberate allusion to it. James and Eliot knew each other, they must have done, as James famously (infamously) spoke of the latter’s ugliness. Middlemarch was published before this, so I wonder if James is referencing one of Eliot’s characters when Daisy Miller (our enigmatic American woman) mentions, in passing, meeting an English woman with the surname Featherstone—a surname that is shared by many characters in Eliot’s 1871 tome. And, just like in Middlemarch, this novella has an interlude in the city of Rome. And Daisy herself is reminiscent of a Holly Golightly, Sally Bowles type character… But that’s enough allusions for now.
This novel is really what I call a “nothing” novel; it is entertaining while it lasts, in this case, not overly long, but beyond mild interest (enough to continue reading it), it gave no profound impression or emotion. In other words, it is fairly forgettable. James’ prose is quite light here, surprisingly, comparing it to the denseness of Turn of the Screw, for example. At its publication I suppose Daisy Miller was quite the character, flaunting and flirting around with various men without caring what others thought of her. And Winterbourne, only 27, falls for this young woman. It is never so simple. The story is short and easy to follow and ends rather predictably, for its time. I’ll leave that as it is. Next it is about time I tackled some of James’ larger works, for I haven’t got any solid feeling about him yet.
A short novella with limited setting, with one notable place in the novel being Château de Chillon—the setting of perhaps my favourite ever poem, Bryon’s “The Prisoner of Chillon”. It is an island castle in Lake Geneva, Switzerland. Near the end of the story, the male character, Winterbourne (a great surname), quotes Byron to himself, but, alas, not “The Prisoner of Chillon”. I will, instead; here is Byron’s prisoner on the castle and the lake below. He refers to Lake Geneva, though calls it by a different name, Lake Leman:
Lake Leman lies by Chillon's walls:
A thousand feet in depth below
Its massy waters meet and flow;
Thus much the fathom-line was sent
From Chillon's snow-white battlement,
Which round about the wave inthralls:
A double dungeon wall and wave
Have made—and like a living grave
Below the surface of the lake
“The Château de Chillon”—1874
I was also reminded of Middlemarch, actually, and wondered if there is a deliberate allusion to it. James and Eliot knew each other, they must have done, as James famously (infamously) spoke of the latter’s ugliness. Middlemarch was published before this, so I wonder if James is referencing one of Eliot’s characters when Daisy Miller (our enigmatic American woman) mentions, in passing, meeting an English woman with the surname Featherstone—a surname that is shared by many characters in Eliot’s 1871 tome. And, just like in Middlemarch, this novella has an interlude in the city of Rome. And Daisy herself is reminiscent of a Holly Golightly, Sally Bowles type character… But that’s enough allusions for now.
This novel is really what I call a “nothing” novel; it is entertaining while it lasts, in this case, not overly long, but beyond mild interest (enough to continue reading it), it gave no profound impression or emotion. In other words, it is fairly forgettable. James’ prose is quite light here, surprisingly, comparing it to the denseness of Turn of the Screw, for example. At its publication I suppose Daisy Miller was quite the character, flaunting and flirting around with various men without caring what others thought of her. And Winterbourne, only 27, falls for this young woman. It is never so simple. The story is short and easy to follow and ends rather predictably, for its time. I’ll leave that as it is. Next it is about time I tackled some of James’ larger works, for I haven’t got any solid feeling about him yet.
I've never been able to get through more than a page or two of James before but this was a nice snack-sized piece to finally get started with. I think I may be ready to go a little farther...
Lass goes out unchaperoned in the Italian moonlight. Gets talked about. Promptly dies of fever.
What I continue to learn-- I'm not crazy about novellas and short stories. I wanted this to be longer, with more potential for someone, anyone, to grow outside of their 2-dimensional introduction.
Daisy was a woman who lived her own life her own way to her ultimate downfall. I wonder how her strength of character would have survived if she had lived a longer time within such a judgmental atmosphere.
I love Henry James style but this was a dry little book.