Product Description

The House of Mirth tells the story of Lily Bart, aged 29, beautiful, impoverished and in need of a rich husband to safeguard her place in the social elite, and to support her expensive habits - her clothes, her charities and her gambling. Unwilling to marry without both love and money, Lily becomes vulnerable to the kind of gossip and slander which attach to a girl who has been on the marriage market for too long. Wharton charts the course of Lily's life, providing, along the way, a wider picture of a society in transition, a rapidly changing New York where the old certainties of manners, morals and family have disappeared and the individual has become an expendable commodity.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #22067 in Books
• Published on: 1998-10-05
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 320 pages

About the Author
Edith Wharton (1862-1937) was born into a distinguished New York family. She not only lived as part of smart society, but it was one of her principal subjects. She was a prolific writer of novels, short stories and articles. She also produced a volume of poems and an adaptation for the theatre of her novel, The House of Mirth. Ethan Frome, which is considered her greatest tragic story, is, by contrast, about simple New England people.

Customer Reviews

Mirthless "House"

America and Europe of the 1800s were stiff, gilded, formal place, full of "old" families, rigid customs and social transgressions. Especially for women.

And nobody chronicled them better than Edith Wharton, who spun exquisitely barbed novels out of the social clashes of the late nineteenth century. "The House of Mirth" is one of her darker stories, where scandals and lack of conformity trigger a tragic downward spiral for a vibrant woman.

Like most not-so-rich women, Lily Bart is on the prowl for a marriage to keep her in luxury and affluent circles. What's more, she has a rapid intellect and striking looks, but she is also a habitual liar who defies society's strictures (she gambles and smokes). Her only friend is Lawrence Seldon, but she is determined not to marry for love alone.

Unfortunately, her schemes and plans start to collapse -- her adoring suitors either aren't rich enough, or her independent spirit sends her off. Her desperation becomes even more intense as she finds herself in the thick of a scandal, spun up by a malicious society matron to cover up her own affair. With her reputation in ruins, Lily's life spirals down into a new life of unemployment, poverty, and the final tragedy.

Edith Wharton always paid a lot of attention to a woman's restricted life in the Gilded Age, and how scandals, unconventionality and society's hypocrisy could ruin them. But "The House of Mirth" pays more attention to this than most -- it's a bleakly realistic story, unflinchingly showing Lily's slow descent into miserable loneliness.

Despite that, Wharton's writing is pure flowering poetry with a knack for evocation ("Her small pale face seemed the mere setting of a pair of dark exaggerated eyes"), and has a sensual quality with all the descriptions of silks, plants, soft light and luxurious mansions. And she vividly portrays the upper echelons of New York society at the time -- affairs, gossip and gilded salons -- as well as the restricted lives of women

But Wharton is just as capable of describing the darker, sadder world that Lily falls into ("... blurred the gaunt roof-lines, threw a mauve veil over the discouraging perspective of the side streets"). Sedoesn't pull any punches with the tragic finale, which has a distinct air of inevitability about it -- no fairy-tale last-minute save by a Prince Charming.

Lily starts out the book as a glimmering satellite of society, who can be rather selfish and cruel, but who nevertheless gains some sympathy for her terrible plight. The cruel, glittering society of the time had no room for women who stood outside the lines, especially if they tried to lie at all the wrong times. And so we see poor Lily, driven into miserable poverty and drug addiction.

"The House of Mirth" is anything but mirthful -- it's the study of a woman's slow downfall, and the cruel society that left her friendless and disgraced. Haunting and vivid.

A poinant, compelling story with one of the best moments in literary history
My definition of a five star review is that the book affects you personally in some permanent way and leaves you a better person for it. Chapter12 of Book 2 of Edith Wharton's novel of high society New York at the turn of the 19th century, The House of Mirth, accomplishes just that. As the novel draws to a close and the book's leading character Lily Bart's troubles mount, she has one last chance to escape. She has some letters written by Bertha Dorset, a woman who has slandered her and led to her ostracism, which prove Bertha's infidelity. She takes up the letters intent on confronting Bertha with them and forcing her to restore Lily to the good graces of New York society. But on the way to Bertha's house she goes by the apartment of Lawrence Selden, a man also mentioned in the letters and with whom she has shared an emotional attachment, and stops in to see him. What happens in this moment is both the climax of the novel and, in my view, one of the most poignant and moving pieces of writing in literature.


"The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth" Ecclesiastes 7:4. In The House of Mirth Edith Wharton is describing what she regards as the worthlessness and frivolity of life among the rich at a particular place and point in time. As a member of that elite group herself, Wharton knew her subject quite well. But her view of this society is suspect, since she spent most of her life in France, pointedly staying away from it. In any case, the picture presented is somewhat like turning over a flat rock and seeing all the creepy things underneath. We are fascinated, but what we see we hardly find attractive.

The central character in the book is Lily Bart, who at the start of the novel is 29 years old and unmarried. Lily is beautiful, charming and socially attractive. The problem is that she is poor--at least by her standards. With the death of her parents Lily takes up residence with her aunt, Julia Peniston. Aunt Julia is prim and proper and critical of Lily's seemingly risqué behavior. Lily remains with her aunt because she has no other options and because she hopes to inherit her considerable fortune.

At first the reader is likely to have difficulty sympathizing with Lily as she focuses her life on catching a rich husband so as to afford herself the opportunity to enjoy luxury. She rejects Lawrence Selden, a successful lawyer, despite the love she feels for him because he is not rich enough to give her the life she desires. Instead she initially opts for the very rich, but very boring, Percy Gryce. But just when it seems she is about to entrap Gryce she meets Selden and realizes the mistake marriage to Gryce would be. Here we begin to see Lily as she truly is, a person who despite her upbringing has a strong morality. But for much of the novel Lily continues to pursue gaining wealth through marriage. To do so she must keep up appearances. For example, at one point late in the book when her fortunes have declined considerably, she and her friend Gerty Farish, are having lunch in a fancy restaurant. Lily's circumstances have declined sharply, but as she notices several of her rich friends enter she says to her companion, "My dear Gerty, you wouldn't have me let the head waiter see that I've nothing to live on but Aunt Julia's legacy? Think of Grace Stepney's satisfaction if she came and found us lunching on cold mutton and tea! What sweet shall we have today, dear--Coupe Jacques or Peches a la Melba?"

But later we come to understand Lily better. Gerty informs Selden, "You know how dependent she has always been on ease and luxury--how she has hated what was shabby and ugly and uncomfortable. She can't help it--she was brought up with those ideas, and has never been able to find her way out of them." We also come to realize that Lily always does what is moral and right even at great personal cost to herself.

Most of the other characters lack this quality. Some are just social butterflies, such as Judy Trenor, while others are more malicious, such as the Dorsets. George and Bertha. The philandering George lusts after Lily, giving her money under false pretenses in the hopes of seducing her. Bertha is even more viscous, slandering Lily when her own infidelity is threatened to be uncovered. There are some good characters in this lot. Gerty Farish, a woman devoted to charitable causes, befriends Lily and is constant despite Lily's growing difficulties. But for the most part one's reputation in this group is determined by money. At one point, when she is being persecuted by Bertha Dorset, Lily states that people will believe Bertha over herself because Bertha is rich.

While the novel centers on Lily, Wharton is really commenting on the lifestyle of this class at this time in New York that she sees as in a state of crisis and transformation. A group of newly rich people is trying to break into the old money society. In the novel the Wellington Brys and,especially Simon Rosedale, represent this group. Rosedale has the added burden of being Jewish. He initially hopes to accomplish his aim by marrying Lily whose sophistication and background would enable him to ascend into high society, but she rejects this option. A year later when her fortunes have turned, she tells Rosedale that she is now ready to marry him, but he scoffs at the idea. He says that circumstances have changed--he is beginning to make inroads into New York society and Lily, having fallen out of it, would now be a hindrance to this objective. This constant striving for status and prestige at the expense of decency is at the heart of this novel. In the end Lily Bart is its most tragic victim.

a highwayscribery "Book Report"
It's not that consecrated writers of classic, canonical literature need highwayscribery's imprimatur, but this tale of a pretty girl's perils gets an A-plus.

The book was a Christmas gift from the scribe's sister-in-law Laura and he is grateful to her for the journey through late 19th Century New York City's high social class.

The greatest revelation in devouring this dense, but delicious tome is more personal than universal for the scribe determined that, after following Breton and Cocteau and Celine and the whole modernist crowd for so long, he writes most like...Edith Wharton (?).

Indeed, born to it, Wharton breezily confects a high-tone, baroque, and detailed English of the kind the scribe concocted, in a wheezing fashion, if not a breezy one, in his own "The Sidewalk Smokers Club."

Reading Wharton is work. Don't dare if you're intimidated by 446 pages of tiny type filled-in with long sentences, characterized by many clauses, each of which slices the onion of truth a little more as you catch your breath so as to finish.

the scribe grew up in New York and is a product of its fine public school system and the fact he would approve, in the snobbish sense, of Wharton's prose may say a lot about how much our English teachers of adolescence ultimately affect our tastes.

But enough about the personal.

"The House of Mirth" is an allusion to the high society world a mostly low-born girl of remarkable beauty, Lily Bart, would like to reside in.

This is the story of a pretty girl's perils; not a pretty girl who has a job and a car and a sense of her own projection, but an old-fashioned pretty girl who was raised to behave as an ornament, whose fundamental purpose is to complete elegant tableaux.

Lily Bart moves amongst the sun-kissed of New York society (if that's possible), but she is not truly of them. Her ticket to parties and outings of the rich people with whom she runs is her unique and singular beauty.

The story opens with Lily's reputation a bit tarnished at the age of 29 by the number of suitors she has passed on. We join her in the opening fade to her personal blossoming. Because we know her innermost thoughts and fears, we can cozy up to Lily in the same way we can cozy up to a criminal who has escaped jail and is fleeing soulless police officers and their barking dogs.

But she is not a good person, having bought lock-stock-and-barrel into her mother's vision of Lily as a piece of furniture that must be sold to the highest bidder.

Society turns out to be tricky and, as we meet Lily, her swinging season is fast passing. The story details Lily's descent out of society and into the working class where her beauty is naught but a hindrance to a gal trying to earn an honest dollar.

At first, it was a little hard for the scribe to determine what was going on and exactly whom had slighted or insulted whom at the parties portrayed by Wharton. These WASPy New Yorkers have always had a delicate touch and sometimes the scribe was forced to return to the scene of the crime, to see exactly what the crime was.

Keep reading. Soon enough you get the idea that being left off the yacht you've been invited onto is something like having a knife driven into your heart. Wharton literally provides an early 21st Century savage with a primer on manners so that by the time her one-time friend Judy Trenor runs into Lily at a restaurant, it is easy to see she has been slighted even though only the kindest of words have been exchanged between the ladies.

It's a different world assayed here, one where a woman who has never had sex dies in shame, the victim of innuendo and false rumor. A world where a soft kiss to a suitor's forehead is as "far" as things ever get.

Perhaps the only flaw in the story is the swift decline to death of Lily Bart after so arduous and complicated a fall from proper society. Maybe that's what Wharton was trying to say; that a lady that's good for nothing can find no way to live and will die shortly.

It would seem fatigue, hopelessness, and an addiction to a popular high of time, camphor, led to Lily's death, but all along feckless men and rapacious socialites either watch her drown impassively, or duck her head under when she comes up for air.

In the end, Lily's acts are characterized by nobility, but a self-destructive one that only serves to shorten her life. No Marxist scholar, Wharton nonetheless and slyly, throws light on the perils associated with trying to meet rich peoples' standards and codes of conduct.

Stick with your own kind, Wharton seems to be suggesting, because being rich when you're not can't be done.