...Which pave the road to mediocrity, a writer's hell. Though it isn't terrible, "Democracy" is little more than a could-have-been in all respects. It has interesting ideas and competent writing, so the potential was there. The problem, as is so often the case, is in the novel's execution.

The idea that power corrupts is an old one, and it is obviously the main point of Henry Adams' novel. His intention seems to be to portray the lengths to which those in power will go to acquire more power, and how the lust for power is certain to deaden one's sense of morality. Unfortunately, Adams would have done better to write an essay on the subject rather than attempt to weave it into a fictional novel, for the author waxes too moralistic on his theme, rather than stepping back and allowing the characters to make his point for him. This does more harm than simply annoying the reader with value judgments; the story itself becomes so transparent and predictable, that it seems a mere vehicle for what soon becomes a tiresome refrain.

Perhaps this is why the characters are so lamentably flat. The descriptions Adams writes for each character seem to foreshadow complexity and development, but this soon is proven to be a false impression. Interesting as the characters might have been from their descriptions, when push comes to shove and the story continues, they remain utterly devoid of personality. Ironically, the main characters, Madeleine and Ratcliffe, are probably the most thinly developed of the entire bunch; the supporting cast is slightly more interesting, but not by much.

Another annoyance is the implausible thinking and actions of so many of the characters; for Madeleine to contemplate marrying Ratcliffe for her sister's sake is simply ridiculous. The fact that she considers her life at an end at age thirty is equally implausible, as is Sybil's attitude of careless youth at age twenty-five: in the nineteenth century, any woman of that age who was yet unmarried would have been considered an old maid, yet that is never even hinted at.

Perhaps the worst of it all was the pacing: this 300+ page book could have EASILY been half its size. It drags along without character development and without even any plot development. Worse yet, the book is centered entirely around politics, yet Adams seems hazy as to the details of those politics. Perhaps Madeleine learned a lot about American politics from her stay in Washington, but very little of this is shared with the reader. As such, the book does not even have an interesting setting to recommend itself.

In the end, it is obvious what Adams was trying to say, but by making Madeleine so careless with regard to Ratcliffe, the author fails utterly. With no temptation, there can be no sacrifice. It is unclear why the reader is expected to admire Madeleine, yet this expectation is clear enough.

To sum up...for a book about government corruption, look elsewhere. There must be something out there better than this. Anything.

"Democracy" is what "Primary Colors" would have been if the latter had been well-written. Like Joe Klein, Adams published his book anonymously and skewered a number of contemporary politicians (including President Rutherford B. Hayes). But Adams goes two steps further: his novel is a scathing commentary more on the American political system in general than on one administration in particular, and his characters are iconic and recognizable in any era.

In "Democracy," the nation's capital "swarms with simple-minded exhibitions of human nature; men and women curiously out of place, whom it would be cruel to ridicule and ridiculous to weep over." But Adams is not hesitant about being cruel in his portrayal of Washington's residents, and he saves his weeping for the true victims in his novel: the American people. The typical American senator combines "the utmost pragmatical self-assurance and overbearing temper with the narrowest education and meanest personal experience that ever existed in any considerable government." (Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose!)

The story concerns Madeleine Lee, an intelligent and well-meaning (if somewhat naive) New York widow, who, bored with her cosmopolitan lifestyle, travels to Washington to learn what makes the nation tick. She and her sister are quickly surrounded by a diverse group of politicians, lobbyists, and foreign diplomats, and she finds herself courted by Silas Ratcliffe, a senator with presidential aspirations whose talent "consisted in the skill with which he evaded questions of principle." During one heated (and humorous) argument about George Washington's merits, Ratcliffe sums up his view of politics: "If virtue won't answer our purpose, then we must use vice, or our opponents will put us out of office."

Adams's prose is almost Jamesian in its measured pacing (and this may simply bore some readers); the initial chapters are unhurried as he weaves the web of the plot and sketches his all-too-believable characters. Along the way he tosses barbed zingers at every target. The climactic passages are among the most comically riveting, emotionally intense, and morally satisfying finales I've read in a satire: as you might expect, nobody gets exactly what they want, but everyone gets what they deserve.

To act with entire honesty and self-respect, one should always live in a pure atmosphere, and the atmosphere of politics is impure. -Senator Silas Ratcliffe, Democracy

In his own lifetime, Henry Adams was famous first for being the grandson of John Quincy Adams, thus the great grandson of John Adams; second for his epic History of the United States During the Jefferson and Madison Administrations. It was only upon his death, in 1918, that his third person autobiography, The Education of Henry Adams, was published and that his publisher revealed that Adams had written the previously anonymous novel Democracy. It is The Education which has sustained his reputation, having been named the number one book on the Modern Library list of the Top 100 Nonfiction Books of the 20th Century, but Democracy is still considered one of the better novels of American politics, though surprisingly it is currently out of print.

The novel is both a fairly typical 19th Century comedy of manners--with the widow Madeleine Lee decamping from New York to Washington DC, where she instantly becomes one of the Capital's most desirable catches--and a more serious meditation on the nature and pursuit of power in the American democracy. The widow Lee is specifically interested in Washington because it is the seat of power :

...she was bent upon getting to the heart of the great American mystery of democracy and government.

. . .

What she wished to see, she thought, was the clash of interests, the interests of forty millions of people and a whole continent, centering at Washington; guided, restrained, controlled, or unrestrained and uncontrollable, by men of ordinary mould; the tremendous forces of government, and the machinery of society at work. What she wanted was POWER.

Mrs. Lee's most likely pursuer is Senator Silas Ratcliffe of Illinois, widely considered a likely future President : he sees her as a perfect First Lady and she sees him as her path to power. Through an elaborate courtship ritual and several set piece scenes (in the Senate, at the White House, at Mount Vernon, at Arlington Cemetery and at a dress ball) Adams puts his characters through their paces and affords the reader an intimate look at the rather tawdry political milieu of the 1870's. The theme that runs throughout the story is that access to power comes only through compromising one's principles, but Adams is sufficiently ambivalent about the point that we're uncertain whether he's more contemptuous of those who make the necessary deals or those who, by staying "pure," sacrifice the opportunity to influence affairs of state. Suffice it to say that the novel ends with Mrs. Lee, assumed by most critics to represent Adams himself, fleeing to Egypt, telling her sister : "Democracy has shaken my nerves to pieces."

Like his presidential forebears, Henry Adams had a realistic and therefore jaundiced view of politics, even as practiced in a democracy. The Adams's did not subscribe to the starry eyed idealism of the Jeffersonians. But they were all drawn to politics, even realizing that it was a moral quagmire. This is the fundamental dilemma of the conservative democrat, we recognize that we have to govern ourselves because we know we can't trust unelected rulers, but we also understand that our elected representatives are unlikely to be any more honest than the tyrants we threw out. This attitude is famously captured in Winston Churchill's (alleged) aphorism : "Democracy: the worst of all possible systems, but there is no other which would be better." And the unfortunate corollary is that unless relatively honorable men like the Adamses and the Churchills pursue careers in politics, the field will be left to the real scoundrels. Henry Adams doesn't offer any solutions to the dilemma, but he offers an amusing take on it.

GRADE : B

I turned to Henry James having only read one other of his works (Portrait of a Lady) not because I relished a return to a novel of manners and drawing room talk but because I was surprised to learn James had written something dealing with the political upheavals of the late 19th century, a time in terms of radical terror that makes more contemporary aspersions rather pale. Imagine a decade or so where four heads of state were assassinated, two of them from leading democracies. James' day was gripped by fears of social revolution and political upheaval and I was curious to see James perspective.

I do admire James' writing. He has a genious for conversation and the drawing out his characters' complex natures through repartee. This serves him well in slowly unveiling the complex interplay of personalities and emotions that usually leads to tragedy - at least so far as I've ascertained from reading two of his longer works. Reading James is like tracing a broad circle that moves ever inward towards a single point in the center. You arrive eventually at the climax, where action replaces words at last, but only after a long drawn out, fascinating in its way, story sustained only by the badinage of the characters and the occasional changes of scene from country manor to London to Paris, etc.

I was a little surprised by the editorial review of this book, that claims "the London underworld of terrorist conspiracies...comes alive under his pen with a violence that seems, 100 years later, only too familiar." I wonder if the reviewer read the book? There are no real conspiracies here, much less any violence. You read, or at least I did, waiting for one, praying for one, but the only thing approaching one comes at the end, and then only as a plan that leads to the final tragic act. I don't want to be too hard on the Princess Casamassima. It was in its way a brilliant work, in its Jamesian way I suppose. If you relish good conversation (and in this James rivals Oscar Wilde; I think James should have concentrated on plays) and undeniable genius in molding characters and slowly and laboriously, but lovingly, weaving out their fate, then James, and the Princess, is for you. If you're coming looking for some explosions and political intrigue it's not to be found here. James doesn't even really treat the social, economic, or political issues behind this growing rift in the social fabric with any seriousness, but treats of it only through the shifting, vague, often cynical opinions of his characters. But then Henry James is not primarily concerned with "the social problem", and treats of political philosophy and such only in a cursory manner, as dressing to brilliant conversation. And what's life about but good conversation? James, as I said, I take primarily as a novelist of manners, which means of people, individual persons, not "the people". This is not a shortcoming. I think James must have thought social issues rather vulgar. You can only treat with refinement the fine lines of the individual character. You can't make art in the factory or the streets (so I imagine him thinking). The tragedy here then is the tragedy of an individual, Hyacinth Robinson, drawn into something, and ultimately destroyed by his choices, due to the ideosyncracies of his own character and his own past. It's not about the revolutionary or anarchist movement per se, but about the struggles going on within a single human soul. Hyacinth had committed himself to a noble, idealistic, if single-minded, death before he had yet had time to consider the many facets life might take. In the end it is not socialism vs. capitalism, but East End on a winter's day vs. St. Mark's square at dusk, as Hyacinth's youthful, spontaneous, unrefined, and ill-considered radicalism gradually reaches its showdown with his more matured, compromising and balanced outlook. But he has arrived at these new insights too late, or has he?

Henry James's classic novel, "Princess Casamassima," tells the catastrophic tale of Hyacinth Robinson, whose tragic life began in the womb of his mother, Florentine Viver, a murderer who stabs and kills Hyacinth's aristocratic father, Lord Fredrick, rendering Hyacinth a bastard. Having no father, and a mother in prison for life, Hyacinth is adopted by Amanda Pynsent, a kind and generous seamstress with little wealth and social-status. A bookbinder by trade, Hyacinth experiences the lower echelons of society on a daily basis and sympathizing with the revolutionary cause, he vows to murder any noble-man named by Hoffendahl, the anarchist-leader. However, as Hyacinth is enabled, through Princess Casamassima, to break through his social and economic constraints, he begins to regret his promise of murder. Furthermore, as he associates himself with the upper class, his fondness for their way of life, refinement, and the arts increases. Therefore, Hyacinth's character goes through a metamorphosis from an underprivileged poor individual who sympathizes with the lower class and their cause, to an individual who looses that sympathy and desires, more than anything else, to be accepted and live in the higher social and economic class. This dichotomy and the notion of rejection by both classes, produces so much anxiety in Hyacinth that in order to preserve his honor, name and prevent murder, he commits suicide.
Hyacinth's father was an English aristocrat, while his mother was from a lower-class French family. The dual nature of Hyacinth's origin functions to for-shadow his dilemma in later life. Hyacinth is adopted my "Pinnie," who is a seamstress and a hard-working lower-class women. It is apparent that Pinnie goes to great lengths and makes sacrifices in her own life for Hyacinth. In fact, "Millicent's allusion to her shrunken industry," and her financial decline are due to Miss Pynsent's "remorse at taking Hyacinth to see his mother dying in prison." This exemplifies the level of care Miss Pynsent gave to Hyacinth. Further, having a meager income and lifestyle did not hinder her decision to take Hyacinth in and raise him to the best of her ability. As Hyacinth grew, so did his contempt for his mother. When going to visit her in jail he said, "I don't want to know her." (51) And at the same time recognizes that, "she must be very low," (51) and desperate. He also yearned to have been able to stake claim to his aristocratic title. The tragedy of his mother and father being revealed to Hyacinth at an early age, planted these conflicting thoughts in his mind when he was young, and may have set the stage for his desire to be part of the upper class and his disgust for the lower class as the novel unfolds.
Hyacinth had a major psychological conflict battling away in his psyche. On one side, he had contempt and shame for his mother, who was from the lower class, while having pride, and sadness for his father, who was an aristocrat. The conflicting nature of this dilemma came into play with Miss. Pynsent, whom Hyacinth loved dearly and respected, but who was also a member of the working, lower class. Therefore, Hyacinth was at odds with which side he should associate with and as the novel unfolds this conflict is played out. In the beginning of the novel, Hyacinth, suppressing his contempt and shame for his mother and focusing on the love for Pinnie, begins to sympathize with the working man and the anarchists' cause and makes the promise of murder, that he regrets for the rest of his life. As the novel progresses, his eyes are opened up to the upper class and their way of life, and his respect and awe for his dead father takes over his psyche. In the closing of the novel, he decides to take his own life, which symbolizes victory and resolution of the ongoing battle in his psyche. Had he killed a nobleman, he would have been no different from his mother, who also killed a nobleman. In fact Hyacinth says that he doesn't want to, "place her [Florentines] forgotten pollution again in the eyes of the world." (529) Therefore, by killing himself and choosing not to assassinate a nobleman, he finally resolves his psychological conflict and puts the battle and himself to rest.
Hyacinth chose to be a bookbinder by trade and therefore was a member of the working class. As such, he was surrounded by individuals who were also working, or from the lower classes. Visiting his friends, the Poupins one day, he meets Paul Muniment, a revolutionary who speaks to Hyacinth about the cause of the workingman and the lower class. Hyacinth has many political arguments and discussions and on one such occasion meets Captain Sholto, who later functions to introduce Hyacinth to Princess Casamassima and the upper class. This introduction occurs when Hyacinth takes his girlfriend, Millicent Henning to the theater, where Captain Sholto remembering Hyacinth from the café introduces him to the Princess. This is a major turning point in Hyacinth's life. The princess is beautiful, radiant, and introduces Hyacinth to "her people." The princess is American born and married into her title. Her husband was an Italian Prince. Hyacinth's eyes were opened to this new class, which he had only heard negative things about. This is ironic because it seemed that the criticisms of the rich were by the poor or lower classes. They were initiated by individuals whose reasoning for hate may have been deeply rooted in envy. For Hyacinth it was just a matter of being involved with a group and his suppression of the hatred for his mother, and love for Pinnie, both members of the lower class. However, when he began to be accepted by the upper class, he began to realize the beauty and privilege associated with the class. His appreciation for the finer things began to grow, and his psychological respect for his aristocratic father may have taken over his psyche. It seems that Hyacinth could have gone either way. However, had he stuck to the lower class, his mental conflicts would have never played out and he would have been forced to live with an ongoing psychological battle for the rest of his life. But the Princess gave him an opportunity to explore different elements of the London social scene and his psyche. Until Princess Casamassima, Hyacinth did not have the opportunity to join the upper class and associate himself with them. He was confined to the lower class, his mother's class. In reality, Hyacinth's contempt for his mother extended over to her socioeconomic class. His grasping of the lower-class group was simply because he had no choice, or because he was not consciously aware of the decisions he was making. However, the Princess allowed him to have another option. The only problem was that even though Hyacinth had now been exposed to this upper class, he did not really have the means economically to remain among them. This conflict was further increased by Hyacinth's promise to the anarchists. He had promised the revolutionaries that he would kill a nobleman. However, after his eyes had been opened to the upper class, this murder would have gone against everything he loved and yearned to be. He had not realized it until now, but his deep-rooted contempt for his mother, and his desire to dis-associate himself from her would make it impossible for him to kill anyone. Also, when returning from his European trip, he felt isolated. He felt that his girlfriend was cheating on him with Captain Sholto and he felt betrayed by the Princess. At this point in his life, he could neither turn to the lower-class anarchists, or the upper class Princess. Both had rejected him. So the novel, in essence ends where it began. With Hyacinth in the middle. Belonging neither to the upper class nor the lower class, just the way he was born. In light of being in limbo, Hyacinth was able to resolve his ongoing psychological conflicts between rejecting his birth mother, respecting and loving his adopted mother, and honoring his birth father.
Hyacinth Robinson was a man with many conflicts. In the beginning of the novel, he was colored with many unresolved conflicts, and as the novel progressed, these psychological conflicts seemed to manifest themselves in reality. His conflict between class distinctions manifested in him making the mistake of promising to the anarchists that he would murder a nobleman of choice. Furthermore, as the novel progressed, his need to associate with his father's class, the upper class, created another conflict in that he now couldn't go through with the murder. These physical conflicts were only manifestations of the mental and psychological battles that were going on in Hyacinth's psyche. So, physically, he rejected the anarchists, which in his psyche represented his mother, and instead brought physical and mental resolution to his predicament by taking his own life. Therefore, Hyacinth conquered not only the physical streets of London and overcame his physical place in society, but also overcame the psychological problems that he was born with, but did not die with.

Early James work has some of his best writing. I'm surprised there aren't more reviews for this book on here. The intermingling of the classes, plus as well, how the poor and rich come to radically change both their views and positions in the world, makes for fascinating reading. James' writing style is always hypnotic and will stay with you long after you put down a chapter. Flowing as it does rather elegantly, in fluid motion.
The title character is a very complex heroine. You don't know whether to cheer for her or hiss at her. A woman with her intentions in the right place, yet as well, someone who thinks nothing of discarding close confidantes. She's an interesting mix of dichotomies. Hyacinth is both aptly wary of her and beguiled by her in the same breath.
Not quite as powerful as his latest works, still, for fans of great literature and ideas, this is a fine way to spend a few idle weeks.

I read about halfway through this book, and then I gave up. I read James' "Turn of the Screw," and "Daisy Miller" in high school, and I remember liking the former and thinking the latter was just okay. (I know, I know, it's a major classic by one of America's most celebrated writers, but just because something has merit doesn't mean I like it better.) One of my all time favorite books was James' "Washington Square." It's hard for me to believe that the same man wrote "Square" and "Maisie." This book is only for MAJOR Henry James enthusiasts.

Everything in this novel evokes childhood's mysteries. It all seems to take place at knee or waist-level, with the brave Maisie (who "throbs" instead of speaks) attemtping to develop a moral code in the middle of a custody battle between parents who are less mature than she.

A tough read, but give it time to weave its spell.

I think this is the most modern of Henry James' stories. Young Maisie's parents divorce and then seem to spend their lives using her to get a teach other, until they develop other interests. Sadly, the story resonates today - immature, self-centered parents and the children that they create. Henry James' insight into the life of such a child is brilliant.

THE EUROPEANS IS NOT ONE OF HENRY JAMES BETTER NOVELS. NEVERTHELESS, FOR FANS OF JAMES, IT'S QUITE READABLE.
THE NOVEL IS ABOUT 2 EUROPEANS - A YOUNG MAN AND WOMAN, BROTHER AND SISTER, WHO TRAVEL TO AMERICA (BOSTON) TO VISIT THEIR LONG LOST AMERICAN COUSINS.
THE PLOT INVOLVES THE AMOROUS ENTANGLEMENTS OF THE COUSINS AND THEIR AMERICAN FRIENDS.
MUCH OF THE STORY DEALS WITH CONTRASTING THE EUROPEAN AND AMERICAN "WAYS" AND "LIFESTYLES" - A FAVORITE TOPIC OF JAMES.
THE BOOK IS NOT A COMPLEX READ LIKE SOME OF HIS LATER NOVELS. IT'S QUITE ACCESSIBLE AND MILDLY ENTERTAINING.

THE EUROPEANS IS NOT ONE OF HENRY JAMES BETTER NOVELS. NEVERTHELESS, FOR FANS OF JAMES, IT'S QUITE READABLE.
THE NOVEL IS ABOUT 2 EUROPEANS - A YOUNG MAN AND WOMAN, BROTHER AND SISTER, WHO TRAVEL TO AMERICA (BOSTON) TO VISIT THEIR LONG LOST AMERICAN COUSINS.
THE PLOT INVOLVES THE AMOROUS ENTANGLEMENTS OF THE COUSINS AND THEIR AMERICAN FRIENDS.
MUCH OF THE STORY DEALS WITH CONTRASTING THE EUROPEAN AND AMERICAN "WAYS" AND "LIFESTYLES" - A FAVORITE TOPIC OF JAMES.
THE BOOK IS NOT A COMPLEX READ LIKE SOME OF HIS LATER NOVELS. IT'S QUITE ACCESSIBLE AND MILDLY ENTERTAINING.

THE EUROPEANS IS NOT ONE OF HENRY JAMES BETTER NOVELS. NEVERTHELESS, FOR FANS OF JAMES, IT'S QUITE READABLE.
THE NOVEL IS ABOUT 2 EUROPEANS - A YOUNG MAN AND WOMAN, BROTHER AND SISTER, WHO TRAVEL TO AMERICA (BOSTON) TO VISIT THEIR LONG LOST AMERICAN COUSINS.
THE PLOT INVOLVES THE AMOROUS ENTANGLEMENTS OF THE COUSINS AND THEIR AMERICAN FRIENDS.
MUCH OF THE STORY DEALS WITH CONTRASTING THE EUROPEAN AND AMERICAN "WAYS" AND "LIFESTYLES" - A FAVORITE TOPIC OF JAMES.
THE BOOK IS NOT A COMPLEX READ LIKE SOME OF HIS LATER NOVELS. IT'S QUITE ACCESSIBLE AND MILDLY ENTERTAINING.

Henry James, The Spoils of Poynton (Dell, 1897)

The Spoils of Ponyton is the first novel James wrote in his "later style," in other words, drawing-room satire that isn't really about much of anything at all. For some odd reason, later-era James is what's universally praised in lit classes around the globe, while the early stuff, which is actually worth reading, is largely ignored.

To be fair, James did get better at satire as time went on, but The Spoils of Ponyton has all the hallmarks of being a first attempt at a stylistic change. The novel centers on two characters who are utterly incapable of action, which wouldn't be so bad if the characters who were doing the acting were more involved. Such is, sadly, not the case. Owen and Fleda just sort of drift and react; as the book is told from Fleda's point of view, we end up with page after page of something that, in the hands of a better author (even a later James, had he re-written it) would have come off as uber-Tevye; weighing the various merits of various courses of action, not being able to decide on a course, and letting fate take her where it will. In Fiddler on the Roof, it works (largely because Tevye's monologues are brief and to the point); in Poynton, it blithers on endlessly, with all the fascination for the reader of watching cheese spoil.

If you're new to James, by all means do yourself a favor and start with something he wrote earlier in his career. Leave Poynton until after you've developed enough of a taste for James to pick up later-era works, and then read the major ones before diving into this. *

I give this three stars in an internal world where 5 is James at his best. In comparison to most fiction the rating would be higher, but as a DEVOUT fan, I live in my own internal world. In that world, James who was more critical than any of us, would understand that in comparison to other later era work and even middle period work, Spoils does not live up to his best. It is fun and light, another reviewer mentioned obvious signs of a stylistic shift perhaps being too obvious here. That feels on the money to me. That said, if you've read almost everything, it is a light turn with the Master and that has something delicious in it no matter what.

I read this one a few years ago, and I have to rank it at the bottom of the list (along with "The Europeans").

Though Fleda Vetch can be fascinating in a Hamlet-esque way (through her infuriating inability to act), this novel is far from a must-read as far as James goes.

This novel is an anomaly in James's canon - a mid period piece which completely lacks the "Sinister Undercurrent." It is a comedy, everything works out fine in the end, and the characters dissipate in the air a few weeks after you've read it. However, if you are a grad student looking to knock out another thesis on the transatlantic theme in Henry James, this one is a must read. Near the bottom of the list for me as far as James goes, but I liked it better than "The Europeans." Read it for curiosity's sake: how often does everything work out happily in a James novel?