Edith Wharton, página 6 de 29

A obra, coeditada por Sotelo Blanco Edicións e o Servizo Galego de Igualdade, forma parte da colección ?As Letras das Mulleres? e o seu obxectivo é o de divulgar obras fundamentais de autoría feminina, tanto de ficción como ensaísticas, e fomentar o recoñecmento do labor intelectual co que as mulleres teñen contribuído á cultura universal ao longo da Historia. Edith Wharton (1862-1937) Foi unha muller que viviu a cabalo entre dous séuculos. No século XIX, as mulleres que pertencían á clase alta neoiorquina non recibían unha educación formal. Cómpre dicir que ter veleidades intelectuais estaba moi mal visto, pois podía supoñer que unha muller non atopase un bo marido. Edith Wharton triunfou no século XX, converteuse nunha muller empresaria de éxito e nunha heroína pola súa implicación na axuda aos refuxiados e ás vítimas da Primeira Guerra Mundial. Divorciouse e enfrontouse á súa familia e á sociedade para defender os seus dereitos e, malia todo, non quixo que a cualificasen como feminista. A idade da inocencia entra de cheo nesta sociedade na que naceu e que tan ben soubo retratar Wharton.

Edith Wharton (1862-1937), escritora norteamericana, autora de La edad de la inocencia, hizo el Camino de Santiago dos veces, en 1925 y 1928. En este libro editamos por primera vez el diario que escribio en su primera peregrinacion y el ensayo que redacto a raiz de la segunda. Dice Wharton: Cuando volvieron [de Santiago] [...] sus ojos estaban llenos de una belleza divina plena de comprension y sus almas de murmullo del cielo, de la oracion divina y de penitencia. Esta es la calzada del patio del cielo. Eso es lo que debieron sentir y lo que sentimos nosotros.

IN the surgical ward of the Hope Hospital at Hanaford, a nurse was bending over a young man whose bandaged right hand and arm lay stretched along the bed.His head stirred uneasily, and slipping her arm behind him she effected a professional readjustment of the pillows. "Is that better?"

Un análisis sucinto pero penetrante y profundo de los principales elementos que se ponen en juego en la construcción de una novela, de donde se deducen unos principios no suficientes pero sí necesarios para la creacion de la obra literaria.

Esta historia sigue a un hombre que antes era de clase media baja, un hombre que, en un momento de su vida, tuvo que trabajar para conseguir todo lo que tenía. Ahora, después de vender una exitosa novela titulada Diademas y Maricas, puede relajarse en el extravagante apartamento de la 5ª Avenida que le proporciono su novela. Insatisfecho con su recien adquirida vida de ocio, se encuentra en una batalla tacita y totalmente agresiva entre el y su recien nombrado secretario.

Los libros de Wharton son testimonio de las transformaciones que sufría Nueva York a principios del siglo XX, de las grandes mansiones frente a Central Park hasta las zonas de los obreros explotados, reducidos a una vida indigna en sus diminutos departamentos. A pesar de que no apoyo ni el movimiento sufragista de las mujeres ni el feminismo de su epoca, las protagonistas de estos dos relatos, y de buena parte de sus libros, son mujeres fuertes, apasionadas y decididas. Son personajes que establecen relaciones importantes y complejas con otras mujeres, de amistad y antagonismo -lejos de los estereotipos que predominan en el canon literario- y que toman las riendas de su destino, incluso cuando se encuentran en la desesperanza mas absoluta. Sirvan estos dos relatos para quienes no conocen a la autora, para quienes han leido sus novelas -mas famosas que sus cuentos- y para quienes tienen la suerte de releer dos historias que crecen con cada nueva lectura.

The Custom of the Country by Edith Wharton is a brutal coming-of-age story that takes place in post-revolutionary Paris. The heroine, Countess Olenska, is a Polish countess who has married an American, Mr. Lansdon. At the time of their marriage, she was young and inexperienced in romance, but her husband soon passes away.

"Xingu" by Edith Wharton offers a sharp, satirical glimpse into the pretensions of high society and intellectual elitism. The story centers on a group of self-proclaimed cultured women belonging to the Lunch Club, who pride themselves on their literary discussions. Their pomposity is hilariously exposed when they invite a celebrated author, only to be flummoxed by the enigmatic term "Xingu." Whartons witty critique underscores the superficiality of social status and the often overlooked value of genuine curiosity and humility.

Edith Whartons novella, The Descent of Man is a symbolically laden literary work exploring the societal ills of capitalist America at the turn of the twentieth century. The work centers around two families who represent respectively, the old aristocratic class in decline, and the new entrepreneurial class in ascendancy.

Years ago I said to myself: "Theres no such thing as old age; there is only sorrow."I have learned with the passing of time that this, though true, is not the whole truth. The other producer of old age is habit: the deathly process of doing the same thing in the same way at the same hour day after day, first from carelessness, then from inclination, at last from cowardice or inertia. Luckily the inconsequent life is not the only alternative; for caprice is as ruinous as routine. Habit is necessary; it is the habit of having habits, of turning a trail into a rut, that must be incessantly fought against if one is to remain alive.

Edith Whartons Kerfol is a story of young love and how it can be thwarted by the power of money. Oliver and Jane never anticipated that their love would be tested by the injustices of class and gender. They both believed that they could overcome these societal norms, but Oliver was too afraid to defy his mother. This fear led him to continue to play out this charade for years, all while destroying Janes heart in the process.

Nora Frenway settled down furtively in her corner of the Pullman and, as the express plunged out of the Grand Central Station, wondered at herself for being where she was. The porter came along. "Ticket?""Westover." She had instinctively lowered her voice and glanced about her. But neither the porter nor her nearest neighboursfortunately none of them known to herseemed in the least surprised or interested by the statement that she was travelling to Westover.Yet what an earthshaking announcement it was! Not that she cared, now; not that anything mattered except the one overwhelming fact which had convulsed her life, hurled her out of her easy velvetlined rut, and flung her thus naked to the public scrutiny. Cautiously, again, she glanced about her to make doubly sure that there was no one, absolutely no one, in the Pullman whom she knew by sight.

YOU idiot! said his wife, and threw down her cards.I turned my head away quickly, to avoid seeing Hayley Delanes face; though why I wished to avoid it I could not have told you, much less why I should have imagined (if I did) that a man of his age and importance would notice what was happening to the wholly negligible features of a youth like myself.I turned away so that he should not see how it hurt me to hear him called an idiot, even in jokewell, at least half in joke; yet I often thought him an idiot myself, and bad as my own poker was, I knew enough of the game to judge that hiswhen he wasnt attendingfully justified such an outburst from his wife. Why her sally disturbed me I couldnt have said; nor why, when it was greeted by a shrill guffaw from her latest, young Bolton Byrne, I itched to cuff the little bounder; nor why, when Hayley Delane, on whom banter always dawned slowly but certainly, at length gave forth his low rich gurgle of appreciationwhy then, most of all, I wanted to blot the whole scene from my memory. Why?

On a January evening of the early seventies, Christine Nilsson was singing in Faust at the Academy of Music in New York.Though there was already talk of the erection, in remote metropolitan distances above the Forties, of a new Opera House which should compete in costliness and splendour with those of the great European capitals, the world of fashion was still content to reassemble every winter in the shabby red and gold boxes of the sociable old Academy. Conservatives cherished it for being small and inconvenient, and thus keeping out the new people whom New York was beginning to dread and yet be drawn to; and the sentimental clung to it for its historic associations, and the musical for its excellent acoustics, always so problematic a quality in halls built for the hearing of music.

A girl came out of lawyer Royalls house, at the end of the one street of North Dormer, and stood on the doorstep.It was the beginning of a June afternoon. The springlike transparent sky shed a rain of silver sunshine on the roofs of the village, and on the pastures and larchwoods surrounding it. A little wind moved among the round white clouds on the shoulders of the hills, driving their shadows across the fields and down the grassy road that takes the name of street when it passes through North Dormer. The place lies high and in the open, and lacks the lavish shade of the more protected New England villages. The clump of weeping-willows about the duck pond, and the Norway spruces in front of the Hatchard gate, cast almost the only roadside shadow between lawyer Royalls house and the point where, at the other end of the village, the road rises above the church and skirts the black hemlock wall enclosing the cemetery.

Selden paused in surprise. In the afternoon rush of the Grand Central Station his eyes had been refreshed by the sight of Miss Lily Bart.It was a Monday in early September, and he was returning to his work from a hurried dip into the country; but what was Miss Bart doing in town at that season? If she had appeared to be catching a train, he might have inferred that he had come on her in the act of transition between one and another of the country-houses which disputed her presence after the close of the Newport season; but her desultory air perplexed him. She stood apart from the crowd, letting it drift by her to the platform or the street, and wearing an air of irresolution which might, as he surmised, be the mask of a very definite purpose. It struck him at once that she was waiting for some one, but he hardly knew why the idea arrested him. There was nothing new about Lily Bart, yet he could never see her without a faint movement of interest: it was characteristic of her that she always roused speculation, that her simplest acts seemed the result of far-reaching intentions.

Edith Whartons "The Glimpses of the Moon" is a captivating exploration of love, wealth, and societal expectations set against the backdrop of New Yorks elite in the 1920s. Whartons prose is both elegant and incisive, weaving rich character development with keen social commentary. The novel intricately dissects the lives of its protagonists, Nick and Elise, two socialites who marry not out of love but for financial convenience, ultimately revealing the insidious nature of wealth and the pursuit of happiness. Whartons literary context, deeply rooted in the Gilded Age and the subsequent social changes, enhances the narrative, employing irony and realism to reflect the moral dilemmas of her characters. Edith Wharton, a prominent figure in American literature, was acutely aware of the intricacies of high society, having been born into it herself. Her experiences as a socialite provided her with firsthand insight into the complexities of wealth and the emotional void it can create. This background, coupled with her skillful narrative techniques, enables her to poignantly illuminate the contrasts between superficial glamour and genuine connection in "The Glimpses of the Moon." This novel is highly recommended for readers interested in early 20th-century American literature and the intricate interplay between personal desires and societal pressures. Whartons deft storytelling invites readers to reflect on the nature of love and the compromises made in the pursuit of social status, making it a timeless exploration of human relationships.