The Descent Of Man by Edith Wharton, 1904
The magic trick:
Talking about stuff for awhile before showing that stuff
I’ve often thought of Edith Wharton, particularly in her short stories, as the link between Henry James and F Scott Fitzgerald, and today’s story, “The Descent Of Man,” is an especially good example of that link.
She devotes a lot of the story to what I would consider flowery writing – advanced vocabulary and generally just fancy stuff. Certainly, you see that with James and Fitzgerald. But beyond that, she devotes the entire first chapter to a dispensing of wisdom about the word from a narrative authority – how life works, why humans do what they do.
So it takes a long time for the story really to get going, and I would say this is probably one of the weakest Edith Wharton stories I’ve ever read. But it’s still good. There’s just a real lack of narrative momentum for the first few pages, because she is so caught up in this narrative voice that is all-knowing not just about the characters in the story but seemingly about the entire world. I actually enjoy that approach quite a bit in Fitzgerald’s stories. He uses it less liberally, where it’s just kind of a counterpoint to the plot. Here, it’s more than a counterpoint. It almost overtakes the narrative.
Still, it’s an interesting way to write; maybe a little dated by our modern standards, but it’s excellent, especially when you have a writer as smart as she is.
And that’s quite a trick on Wharton’s part.
The selection:
But if, from the outset, he found his idea the most agreeable of fellow-travellers, it was only in the aromatic solitude of the woods that he tasted the full savour of his adventure. There, during the long cool August days, lying full length on the pine-needles and gazing up into the sky, he would meet the eyes of his companion bending over him like a nearer heaven. And what eyes they were!–clear yet unfathomable, bubbling with inexhaustible laughter, yet drawing their freshness and sparkle from the central depths of thought! To a man who for twenty years had faced an eye reflecting the obvious with perfect accuracy, these escapes into the inscrutable had always been peculiarly inviting; but hitherto the Professor’s mental infidelities had been restricted by an unbroken and relentless domesticity. Now, for the first time since his marriage, chance had given him six weeks to himself, and he was coming home with his lungs full of liberty.
As always, join the conversation in the comments section below, on SSMT Facebook or on Twitter @ShortStoryMT.
Subscribe to the Short Story Magic Tricks Monthly Newsletter to get the latest short story news, contests and fun.
Short Story Magic Tricks 