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Tsundoku

The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton

The novel was published in 1920, in the 1870s, in New York society.

It’s fascinating how one look, one casual phrase, could destroy a person’s entire reputation. I think that’s still true, but we can start over somewhere else and, for the most part, bounce back.

If someone is ruined (the Beauforts, more so Regina than Julius, highlighting the gender discrimination of the time), it’s unheard of.

The specter of New York looms as its character in the novel and all of its citizens play their lives out so spectacularly. Wharton paints this wonderfully manipulative underbelly even while its inhabitants breed their discontent as it has been done for generations before.

I honestly have no gripes. The phrasing, the pacing. The novel reads incredibly well today.

Interestingly, we see the novel strictly through Newland’s lens, so what he thinks he sees isn’t necessarily what’s there. Yet he spends the novel bashing how others can’t see what he sees, especially when explaining his mother and Janey’s favorite pastime: inviting Sillerton Jackson over for dinner to have a gossip.

book cover of The Age of Innocence

As the narrator, Newland represents how we treat ourselves even today. We all wear masks. The one we present publicly is generally vastly different from the one we wear privately.

No one is an open book, no matter how much they claim to be. Yet, we judge everyone based on their public masks.

It was ridiculous then and is now.

Wharton captures that unsettled feeling with the Madame Olenska character entirely. She’s unaccustomed to American society, and she does things that piss people off, yet no one wants to explain why it’s inappropriate. I sympathize with her character completely.

Newland is a product of his background. I loved that he didn’t realize until the last moment that May was playing him. A few times during the novel, he notes that he sees her struggling through the fog of her brain, trying to form an opinion.

I honestly believe May knows exactly what she was doing. He says several times throughout the story that May is a clone of her mother, Mrs. Welland. But Mrs. Welland knows how to play the game. Seeing May play it like she does is par for the course if you ask me.

He spends the novel talking down about everyone and doesn’t realize that maybe they’re all feeling as stifled as he is.

But they’re satisfied with their lot in life. They were born into this life. Why judge someone on that?

I don’t denigrate him for that. However, as educated and open-eyed as he claims to be, he is as naive as the rest. I am glad that his romantic inner life is validated by seeing his children live their lives.

What once would have been considered uncouth, such as Dallas marrying Fanny, is now accepted without criticism. It’s incredible how quickly culture and society change from generation to generation. We see this today.

The world our parents grew up in is nothing like the one we live in today. Our children will not live the life we do. We might try to pass on values and opinions, but the future will march on, taking the good from the previous and casting away the bad.

Guilliean Pacheco (she/her) is an American of Filipino descent. She is an early career full-stack writer by day and raconteuse by night. Her journey includes earning an M.F.A. in Writing from the University of San Francisco, a Media Writing certificate from the New School, and becoming an Anaphora Arts poetry fellow. She's also a valued A.I.R. and IWW FJU member, deeply rooted in her passion for supporting the creative community. A misplaced California girl, she lives in Las Vegas normally — if one could call living there normal — on Southern Paiute land.

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