The New York Stories of Henry James (New York Review Books Classics)

The New York Stories of Henry James (New York Review Books Classics)

Henry James

Language: English

Pages: 592

ISBN: 1590171624

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Henry James led a wandering life, which took him far from his native shores, but he continued to think of New York City, where his family had settled for several years during his childhood, as his hometown. Here Colm Tóibín, the author of the Man Booker Prize–shortlisted novel The Master, a portrait of Henry James, brings together for the first time all the stories that James set in New York City. Written over the course of James's career and ranging from the deliciously tart comedy of the early "An International Episode" to the surreal and haunted corridors of "The Jolly Corner," and including "Washington Square", the poignant novella considered by many (though not, as it happens, by the author himself) to be one of James's finest achievements, the nine fictions gathered here reflect James's varied talents and interests as well as the deep and abiding preoccupations of his imagination. And throughout the book, as Tóibín's fascinating introduction demonstrates, we see James struggling to make sense of a city in whose rapidly changing outlines he discerned both much that he remembered and held dear as well as everything about America and its future that he dreaded most.

Stories included:
The Story of a Masterpiece
A Most Extraordinary Case
Crawford's Consistency
An International Episode
The Impressions of a Cousin
The Jolly Corner
Washington Square
Crapy Cornelia
A Round of Visits




















seemed for an instant to create, to poor Mrs. Montgomery’s troubled vision, a material image. She gazed at it an instant, and then she turned away. “You distress me, sir!” she exclaimed. “He is, after all, my brother, and his talents, his talents——” On these last words her voice quavered, and before he knew it she had burst into tears. “His talents are first-rate!” said the Doctor. “We must find the proper field for them!” And he assured her most respectfully of his regret at having so greatly

forbore to show herself at tea—a repast which, on Sundays, at six o’clock, took the place of dinner. Dr. Sloper and his sister sat face to face, but Mrs. Penniman never met her brother’s eye. Late in the evening she went with him, but without Catherine, to their sister Almond’s, where, between the two ladies, Catherine’s unhappy situation was discussed with a frankness that was conditioned by a good deal of mysterious reticence on Mrs. Penniman’s part. “I am delighted he is not to marry her,”

received—from Mr. Caliph.” “From Mr. Caliph? Did he give them to you?” Mrs. Ermine’s intonations are not delicate. That “you” should be in enormous capitals. “With his own hand—a quarter of an hour ago.” This sounds triumphant, as I write it; but it was no great sensation to triumph over Mrs. Ermine. She laid down the bouquet, looking almost thoughtful. “He does want to marry Eunice,” she declared in a moment. This is the region in which, after a flight of fancy, she usually alights. I am sick

exasperated consciousness of his victim to become a real test for him; since he had quite put it to himself from the first that, oh distinctly! he could “cultivate” his whole perception. He had felt it as above all open to cultivation—which indeed was but another name for his manner of spending his time. He was bringing it on, bringing it to perfection, by practice; in consequence of which it had grown so fine that he was now aware of impressions, attestations of his general postulate, that

house,” remarked the Duchess of Bayswater, looking at Bessie Alden. “A very short time,” said Mrs. Westgate. “Oh!” said the Duchess; and she continued to look at Bessie, who was engaged in conversation with her daughter. “Do you like London?” Lady Pimlico had asked of Bessie, after looking at her a good deal—at her face and her hands, her dress and her hair. “Very much indeed,” said Bessie. “Do you like this hotel?” “It is very comfortable,” said Bessie. “Do you like stopping at hotels?”

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