Summer

Edith Wharton did the impossible with "Summer" and wrote a love story I actually cared about. Not because her protagonists are likeable, but because their character flaws render them believable and intriguing and fill the reader with sensational expectations; they are not just mannequins waiting to be posed within the frame of a formulaic plot. A novel published in 1917 that depicts an abortionist withholding a piece of jewelry from a woman until she pays her fee is obviously not something that was shaped by the cookie cutter. Wharton sets the story in an isolated village called North Dormer, evidently in the Berkshires of western Massachussetts. The heroine, a young woman named Charity Royall, is bored with her life there as the sole librarian of the village's shoddy, neglected library when one day she meets Lucius Harney, an urbane young architect who has come to North Dormer to visit a relative and to sketch colonial houses. Their initial friendship blossoms into a romance which is threatened by two factors: Charity's guardian, the local lawyer Mr. Royall, a stingy, miserable man who drinks too much, desires to marry her; and Charity, an orphan raised by Mr. Royall and his deceased wife, is embarrassed by her heritage as a child born among the shunned, destitute farmers who live up on the "Mountain," as it is called. Wharton, the model of what good American prose looked like in the early twentieth century, is more importantly a thematic innovator who seeks to reflect female identity, in this case personified by a rustic girl who attempts to break the constraints of her native element by pursuing an improbable romance with a man whose sophistication allows him to take advantage of her simplicity, only to turn to another man whose position allows him to take advantage of the situation in which the first man placed her. One detects an echo of Wharton's own unhappy marriage in the story, and indeed the decision Charity makes at the end seems to spring from desperate resignation, the defeated sense of being trapped, rather than from true love. For Wharton, the way out was through the power and elegance of the written word, but Charity, oblivious to the wonder of the books she has so long tended but ignored, has no such option.

Summer and Ethan Frome are often referred to as companion novels. The only thing these two novels have in common is location and doomed romance. While doomed romance seems to be a major theme in much of Wharton's work, this book pushes the envelope by dealing not only with sex (The House of Mirth also implies some sexuality), but also abortion. I found this novel more engaging than Ethan Frome, perhaps because the central character is a young woman, flawed and realistic, who is able to deal with the consequences of her failed romance (however horrid they may be) rather than a brooding man who seems to think if he can't be in the relationship he wants, leaving his shrewish wife for a sweet young woman, he would rather not live. By the end, I was hoping for a happy ending for Charity.

Written when Wharton's own marriage was failing, this tale of first love won and lost is a bittersweet, moving novel which melds Wharton's two worlds beautifully - high society, and rural New England. Her personal favorite of all the novels she wrote, Edith Wharton captures the very essence of love and longing in this beautiful, sensual story of Charity Royall and Lucius Harney. Born to a poor mother, Mr. Royall rescues Charity and raises her as his own daughter, but when his wife dies of consumption, and Charity begins to ripen into a lovely woman, Mr. Royal realizes that his feelings for her are deeper than he imagined. Repulsed by his offer of marriage, Charity instead turns her attentions to the handsome young architect from Boston, Mr. Lucius Harney, who is visiting North Dormer for the summer. As summer unfurls in North Dormer like the Red Rambler rose in Charity's garden, Charity and Lucius' love blossoms, burns hot, and spills over into sexual union. Wharton's language of love is extraordinary - beautiful, sensual, and filled with all the fire of first love. I won't ruin the ending for you by revealing it, but it is poignant, achingly human, and ultimately fitting that Charity ends up where she does. Bittersweet and gorgeously written, this is a magical book not to be missed.

I cannot deny that the ending of this book gave me quite an unwelcome shock as it suddenly verred away from the popular love story formula. However, when I actually thought about the ending I could understand why it was important for Wharton to ensure that this book had the same degree of social realism as her other books and therefore Charity and Lucius could not end up happily ever after. Although some reviewers found the ending unsatisfying I think found it more satisfying because it was realistic and therefore believable rather than being idealistic and fantastic. Also it therefore does not undermine Wharton's constant criticism of small town mentality, snobbery and narrow mindedness or Charity's independance and instinctive sense of propriety by having the good fairy come and sort out an impossible situation. If the ending had been predestined to be happy for Charity I do not think there would have been such an intense sense of suspense maintained throughout the book.

Once again Ms. Wharton tells a gripping story of class distinctions in the Victorian age. Yet how many times has this happened in our time? A lovely young woman of a lower class meets a handsome young man of the upper class. Slowly their relationship escalates from kisses to making love. A woman's first love is held on a pedestal. She believes every word that issues from his mouth. Charity, our heroine, finds herself pregnant after receiving a note from her lover that he has gone away and will return, yet gossip holds that he is marrying someone of his own class. The betrayal, the gut-wrenching pain, the tears, the fear--it's all there, 19th century, 20th or even the 21st. Yet Wharton doesn't take the easy way out of this situation. She keeps you guessing up to the very end, and I applaud her for her courage. Today, with our penchant for happy endings, we forget about real life. This is a book every teenage girl should read. It might give them a moment's pause before offering the unique gift of their virginity to a young man before marriage. Take it from someone who's been there.