I committed myself to The Outcry, James' last published work, with reluctance. Fully aware of the laborious, convoluted style of late James, I foresaw myself groping my way through this comedy of manners - and grope I did, though it wasn't an entirely unrewarding experience. While the prose was thorny as expected, the plot was accessible and fairly interesting from a historical perspective. As usual, James explores the transatlantic clash between New World America and Old World Europe.
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Breckenridge Bender is a filthy rich American who arrives in England in search of new art treasures. He's invited to Dedborough Palace, estate of the widowed and debt-ridden Lord Theign, where a trove of historically significant and expensive artworks are to be found. Upon his arrival, Hugh Crimble, a young connoisseur, suspects that one of Theign's paintings may be a misattributed masterpiece, a rare—and if Crimble is correct—priceless Montavano. Bender's efforts to purchase the prized painting from the cash-needy Thimble create a stir. Opposition is led by Crimble and his new love, Theign's daughter Lady Grace, and amplified into a patriotic outcry when newspapers catch wind of the potential sale.
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While a relatively obscure James novel today, The Outcry was a popular success in its day, likely due to its cultural relevance. Just 2 years prior to its publication in 1911, the American multimillionaire Henry Clay Frick almost succeeded in purchasing The Duchess of Milan from the Duke of Norfolk, resulting in an outcry similar to the one depicted in the novel.
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Though Bender and his sort are viewed by the British public as quasi-villains, or as Crimble describes, robber barons "armed now with cheque-books instead of with spears and battle-axes," much of England's great art was acquired in similar fashion. As Lady Grace says: "I suppose our art-wealth came in—save for those Elgin Marbles!—mainly by purchase too, didn't it? We ourselves largely took it away from somewhere, didn't we? We didn't grow it all." While James can be scathing in his portrayal of nouveau-riche Americans like Bender, such irony points to the questionable righteousness of the aristocratic noblesse.
I committed myself to The Outcry, James' last published work, with reluctance. Fully aware of the laborious, convoluted style of late James, I foresaw myself groping my way through this comedy of manners - and grope I did, though it wasn't an entirely unrewarding experience. While the prose was thorny as expected, the plot was accessible and fairly interesting from a historical perspective. As usual, James explores the transatlantic clash between New World America and Old World Europe.
‍
Breckenridge Bender is a filthy rich American who arrives in England in search of new art treasures. He's invited to Dedborough Palace, estate of the widowed and debt-ridden Lord Theign, where a trove of historically significant and expensive artworks are to be found. Upon his arrival, Hugh Crimble, a young connoisseur, suspects that one of Theign's paintings may be a misattributed masterpiece, a rare—and if Crimble is correct—priceless Montavano. Bender's efforts to purchase the prized painting from the cash-needy Thimble create a stir. Opposition is led by Crimble and his new love, Theign's daughter Lady Grace, and amplified into a patriotic outcry when newspapers catch wind of the potential sale.
‍
While a relatively obscure James novel today, The Outcry was a popular success in its day, likely due to its cultural relevance. Just 2 years prior to its publication in 1911, the American multimillionaire Henry Clay Frick almost succeeded in purchasing The Duchess of Milan from the Duke of Norfolk, resulting in an outcry similar to the one depicted in the novel.
‍
Though Bender and his sort are viewed by the British public as quasi-villains, or as Crimble describes, robber barons "armed now with cheque-books instead of with spears and battle-axes," much of England's great art was acquired in similar fashion. As Lady Grace says: "I suppose our art-wealth came in—save for those Elgin Marbles!—mainly by purchase too, didn't it? We ourselves largely took it away from somewhere, didn't we? We didn't grow it all." While James can be scathing in his portrayal of nouveau-riche Americans like Bender, such irony points to the questionable righteousness of the aristocratic noblesse.
I committed myself to The Outcry, James' last published work, with reluctance. Fully aware of the laborious, convoluted style of late James, I foresaw myself groping my way through this comedy of manners - and grope I did, though it wasn't an entirely unrewarding experience. While the prose was thorny as expected, the plot was accessible and fairly interesting from a historical perspective. As usual, James explores the transatlantic clash between New World America and Old World Europe.
‍
Breckenridge Bender is a filthy rich American who arrives in England in search of new art treasures. He's invited to Dedborough Palace, estate of the widowed and debt-ridden Lord Theign, where a trove of historically significant and expensive artworks are to be found. Upon his arrival, Hugh Crimble, a young connoisseur, suspects that one of Theign's paintings may be a misattributed masterpiece, a rare—and if Crimble is correct—priceless Montavano. Bender's efforts to purchase the prized painting from the cash-needy Thimble create a stir. Opposition is led by Crimble and his new love, Theign's daughter Lady Grace, and amplified into a patriotic outcry when newspapers catch wind of the potential sale.
‍
While a relatively obscure James novel today, The Outcry was a popular success in its day, likely due to its cultural relevance. Just 2 years prior to its publication in 1911, the American multimillionaire Henry Clay Frick almost succeeded in purchasing The Duchess of Milan from the Duke of Norfolk, resulting in an outcry similar to the one depicted in the novel.
‍
Though Bender and his sort are viewed by the British public as quasi-villains, or as Crimble describes, robber barons "armed now with cheque-books instead of with spears and battle-axes," much of England's great art was acquired in similar fashion. As Lady Grace says: "I suppose our art-wealth came in—save for those Elgin Marbles!—mainly by purchase too, didn't it? We ourselves largely took it away from somewhere, didn't we? We didn't grow it all." While James can be scathing in his portrayal of nouveau-riche Americans like Bender, such irony points to the questionable righteousness of the aristocratic noblesse.
I committed myself to The Outcry, James' last published work, with reluctance. Fully aware of the laborious, convoluted style of late James, I foresaw myself groping my way through this comedy of manners - and grope I did, though it wasn't an entirely unrewarding experience. While the prose was thorny as expected, the plot was accessible and fairly interesting from a historical perspective. As usual, James explores the transatlantic clash between New World America and Old World Europe.
‍
Breckenridge Bender is a filthy rich American who arrives in England in search of new art treasures. He's invited to Dedborough Palace, estate of the widowed and debt-ridden Lord Theign, where a trove of historically significant and expensive artworks are to be found. Upon his arrival, Hugh Crimble, a young connoisseur, suspects that one of Theign's paintings may be a misattributed masterpiece, a rare—and if Crimble is correct—priceless Montavano. Bender's efforts to purchase the prized painting from the cash-needy Thimble create a stir. Opposition is led by Crimble and his new love, Theign's daughter Lady Grace, and amplified into a patriotic outcry when newspapers catch wind of the potential sale.
‍
While a relatively obscure James novel today, The Outcry was a popular success in its day, likely due to its cultural relevance. Just 2 years prior to its publication in 1911, the American multimillionaire Henry Clay Frick almost succeeded in purchasing The Duchess of Milan from the Duke of Norfolk, resulting in an outcry similar to the one depicted in the novel.
‍
Though Bender and his sort are viewed by the British public as quasi-villains, or as Crimble describes, robber barons "armed now with cheque-books instead of with spears and battle-axes," much of England's great art was acquired in similar fashion. As Lady Grace says: "I suppose our art-wealth came in—save for those Elgin Marbles!—mainly by purchase too, didn't it? We ourselves largely took it away from somewhere, didn't we? We didn't grow it all." While James can be scathing in his portrayal of nouveau-riche Americans like Bender, such irony points to the questionable righteousness of the aristocratic noblesse.
I committed myself to The Outcry, James' last published work, with reluctance. Fully aware of the laborious, convoluted style of late James, I foresaw myself groping my way through this comedy of manners - and grope I did, though it wasn't an entirely unrewarding experience. While the prose was thorny as expected, the plot was accessible and fairly interesting from a historical perspective. As usual, James explores the transatlantic clash between New World America and Old World Europe.
‍
Breckenridge Bender is a filthy rich American who arrives in England in search of new art treasures. He's invited to Dedborough Palace, estate of the widowed and debt-ridden Lord Theign, where a trove of historically significant and expensive artworks are to be found. Upon his arrival, Hugh Crimble, a young connoisseur, suspects that one of Theign's paintings may be a misattributed masterpiece, a rare—and if Crimble is correct—priceless Montavano. Bender's efforts to purchase the prized painting from the cash-needy Thimble create a stir. Opposition is led by Crimble and his new love, Theign's daughter Lady Grace, and amplified into a patriotic outcry when newspapers catch wind of the potential sale.
‍
While a relatively obscure James novel today, The Outcry was a popular success in its day, likely due to its cultural relevance. Just 2 years prior to its publication in 1911, the American multimillionaire Henry Clay Frick almost succeeded in purchasing The Duchess of Milan from the Duke of Norfolk, resulting in an outcry similar to the one depicted in the novel.
‍
Though Bender and his sort are viewed by the British public as quasi-villains, or as Crimble describes, robber barons "armed now with cheque-books instead of with spears and battle-axes," much of England's great art was acquired in similar fashion. As Lady Grace says: "I suppose our art-wealth came in—save for those Elgin Marbles!—mainly by purchase too, didn't it? We ourselves largely took it away from somewhere, didn't we? We didn't grow it all." While James can be scathing in his portrayal of nouveau-riche Americans like Bender, such irony points to the questionable righteousness of the aristocratic noblesse.
