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The Princess Casamassima Capa dura – 26 setembro 1991
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- ISBN-109781857150506
- ISBN-13978-1857150506
- EdiçãoNew ed
- EditoraEveryman's Library
- Data da publicação26 setembro 1991
- IdiomaInglês
- Dimensões3.5 x 13.5 x 21 cm
- Número de páginas596 páginas
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- ASIN : 1857150503
- Editora : Everyman's Library; New ed edição (26 setembro 1991)
- Idioma : Inglês
- Capa dura : 596 páginas
- ISBN-10 : 9781857150506
- ISBN-13 : 978-1857150506
- Dimensões : 3.5 x 13.5 x 21 cm
- Ranking dos mais vendidos: Nº 742,947 em Livros (Conheça o Top 100 na categoria Livros)
- Nº 13,732 em Importados de Ficção Clássica
- Avaliações dos clientes:
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This book it has to be admitted has always been enjoyed more Stateside than it has in this country, but it has always divided reviewers on its merits and failings. The story of an illegitimate boy brought up by a relative stranger from an early age because his mother is in prison would seem like a good starting point. But alas when the radical politics start getting involved and our 'hero' having to decide whether to go ahead with a terrorist attack or do something else then tragedy strikes. The problem here is that the whole story is dragged out and it is oh so easy to lose interest, also James isn't really that up on what he is writing about, for instance compare this to the brilliant The Secret Agent: A Simple Tale, by Joseph Conrad.
All in all I was left disappointed, and if you have never read any James before, then DO NOT start with this book. Despite its many faults though there is a good sense of our main character feeling and being isolated and a loner throughout the story.
I was interested in this book because I believe it was not tampered with or 'improved' by the author, belonging to the same period as The Bostonians, and it is, for this reason, a rewarding read, free of HJ's later contorted prose. I agree with another critic that the name 'Hyacinth' for the hero is extremely off-putting, and I found many of the characters implausible, not least the Princess herself. One does not feel that HJ has met these kind of people, as one does when reading The Bostonians. But the book still requires some guidance. It is rarely mentioned by James's critics, so that the absence of an introduction to this text is a serious lack. However, long, dense and self-contained, it is still a fiction which demands the reader's full and questioning attention.
For all of those bothered by James’s focus on the upper classes, The Princess Casamassima is the one work of James that takes the social question head on. The protagonist, Hyacinth, is an anarchist who becomes torn between the inequalities of Industrial Revolution era Britain and the genuine good he sees in the culture achievements and lifestyles of the upper classes. In its favor as a Jamesian starter course, it has a strong plot, Dickenesque characters from all social classes and a compelling drama for the protagonist to resolve.
But it’s also one of the least realistic of James’s novels. An aristocrat snatched at birth and given to a working class woman, scenes of socialist cabals where its obvious that James had no experience of such gatherings, bleeding heart socialites who give up all their possessions to help the poor…I could go on but you get the point. James is clearly stretching the bounds of suspended disbelief.
It’s a shame it isn’t a finer work, since many of his best novels are written in tortuous language and have little to no plot. One has to simply enjoy the ingenious characterization and the setting of fin-de-siecle Europe. Reading his late novels without reading his earlier ones will lead most readers to be as lost as a first time Faulkner reader leaping into a work like Absalom, Absalom.
So I have decidedly mixed feelings about this novel. It contains no insights into or resolution of the social question. But it does sustain the reader’s interest in the story as perhaps few of James’s novels do. For those who do want to read something by him, I recommend this book with reservations.
The story could seem seriously dated and improbable, but only if you forget how really terrifying the anarchists of that time were. They were that era’s terrorists, and they struck with great violence and cruelty. Crude bomb-makers blew themselves up in crowded trains and cozy cafes in Paris, crackpots from obscure political sects took potshots at crowned heads and political figures. And more victims fell than just the Archduke and Archduchess of Austria at Sarajevo. William McKinley, the U.S. president, was assassinated, as was an Austrian empress, a French president, an Italian king and a Spanish prime minister. The crimes were vicious, shocking, and deadly, just like today. And they fascinated and appalled the aristocracy.
This novel is James’ attempt to give them a thrilling glimpse into this murky world and to depart from his usual haunt of the drawing rooms and ballrooms of the rich and privileged. In this he was ill-advised and he should have stuck with the subjects and the class that he knew so well. This is an attempt to give a Dickensian peep into the seedy underworld of the London poor and the politicians and terrorists that were stirring the pot of civil unrest there, and James simply does not pull it off very well. The great central plot device of the novel—the impending assassination attempt—hangs over the novel for 600 pages, but in the end it is what the English call a damp squib, a firework that fails to go off. And 600 pages of that is far too much, leaving one feeling like the Emperor Joseph II, who supposedly said to Mozart on hearing “The Abduction from the Seraglio” for the first time: “That is too fine for my ears–there are too many notes!” There are too many words in this novel for the scant plot it seeks to advance, the characterizations of working class people are neither convincing nor sympathetic, and are not even particularly interesting. James should have left this world to Dickens and stuck to the world he knew so well and which adorns his other, much better, novels.