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Two fussy English women, the nubile Lucy Honeychurch and her older cousin Charlotte Bartlett, are staying in a small hotel (a pension) in Florence, Italy. There they meet the Emersons, a father and son, who do not seem to have much money and are hinted to be "Socialists," which reflects a prejudice on the part of the allegers and doesn't even really mean anything within the novel's scope. Lucy has a brief romance with the son, George, even though she knows he is not quite suitable for her social status. A few other characters also are introduced in Florence, including two clergymen, Mr. Beebe and Mr. Eager, and a romance novelist named Miss Lavish.
The action shifts back to England, where we meet Lucy's doting mother and frivolous, immature brother Freddy, who could be a progenitor for P.G. Wodehouse's aristocratic loafers. Lucy is courted by a snobbish young man named Cecil Vyse whom she has known for a few years and accepts his proposal for marriage. Trouble arises when George Emerson and his father show up as tenants in a nearby cottage, and Lucy must decide whether she is going to submit to social convention and marry Cecil or follow her heart and go with George. Care to take a wild guess about the outcome?
Forster obviously intended this novel to be a comedy, but his humor is stilted and contrived. There are subtle jokes about English class distinction, blatantly symbolic surnames that sound like they came from the board game "Clue," juxtaposed sentences that purposely contradict each other for the sake of painfully overt irony, and satirical snippets that affect Oscar Wilde-style wittiness. The novel's humoristic tour de force is a scene in which Cecil remains oblivious to the fact that Lucy and George had a fling in Italy, even though he reads a direct account of it in a novel penned by Miss Lavish, who fortunately has disguised the names of her hero and heroine. Simply put, the book is as funny as burnt toast.
Colorful but predictable and simplistic, "A Room with a View" may have been an important Edwardian novel, but it seems innocuous compared to the hard realism and bold sexuality of D.H. Lawrence's imminent works. Even the author himself acknowledges the novel's fabrications when he allows Mr. Beebe to state, "It is odd how we of that Pension, who seemed such a fortuitous collection, have been working into one another's lives." Funny, I was thinking the same thing.
From the scene where Lucy wakes up and finds herself in the arms of George is probably the biggest hint of his love for her...even though all he really did was hold her. In the end their struggles to get ignore their parents and society itself gives them the reins to control their own lives.
I'm not sure but there was just something about this book that makes me just aghasted...I can't describe it...I feel so overcomed with emotions, just like when I read Tess of the Durbervilles. But in this case, there's a happy ending
This classic by E. M. Forster is full of wicked humor that punctures the 19th century English class system. Superb cameo pieces. The character development is subtle and sure, beginning with our heroine traveling to Italy with her maiden aunt as chaperone. There, in a pensione, she meets an iconoclastic father and son, honest, rough-hewn, plain-spoken, who insist upon trading rooms when they overhear the prim aunt complaining that she booked a room with a view. It, of course, becomes a metaphor for room to view life as a whole, without prejudice, in all its wonderful complexity.
Don't miss this excellent book by this excellent author. Then read all his others, if you haven't already done so.
Now I can hardly wait to read another. I absolutely loved this book, without quite knowing why it was so magical. I do know that I found the first chapter absolutely perfect, as it allows the reader to go into a "descriptive section" daze, and then jerks are attention suddenly back to the Marabar caves. And with the exception of one or two patches that dragged a little but were soon over, I found the rest of the book equally magnetic.
I enjoyed Fortster's deftness in portraying all the characters, not so much as individuals, but in terms of how they felt about each other. In particular I loved the relationship between Fielding and Aziz, while understanding completely the dislike each had for aspects of the others character.
The ending is marvelous. So often books that hold your interest like this just peter out, but it's refreshing to find an author like Forster who understands that what makes for an ideal conclusion is to give the readers a taste of what they want, and then hold back the last little bit.
The main charcter is a Moslem Indian, Dr. Aziz,who is abused by his British superior and learns to mistrust all British. Aziz meets Mrs. Moore , a new arrival, by chance at a mosque. After first ridiculing her, Aziz develops a deep respect for Mrs. Moore who he believes possesses more Oriental qualities than European qualities. Through Mrs. Moore, Aziz develops a frienship with Fielding, an educator, very interested in discovering what India is all about.
Mrs. Moore's is accompanied to India by her future daughter-in-law, Adela Quested. Although extremely naive, Adela has the same inquisitiveness as does Fielding. Aziz desperately wants to impress his new British friends and he invites Adela, Mrs. Moore, and Fielding to be his guest as he shows them the Marbar caves, a local landmark.
On the fateful day all parties realize that the tour is not a good idea but each is reluctant to cancel the event. The mystery of what occurred within the caves and the aftermath is the crux of the story.
The incident at the cave does irrevocable harm to each of the main characters but particularly Mrs. Moore whose spirit totally disintegrates and Adeala who is rediculed and villified by the British.
Finally at the end, Aziz and Fielding repair their friendship as best they can, each realizing that Indians and Brits will enjoy a suspicious friendship at best.
I don't think it's really necessary for me to comment on the brilliance of the prose, or the entertaining primary narrative since I'm sure that's been done to the upteenth time. However, the book holds so much that I couldn't not share some of my thoughts. Please read A Passage to India as soon as you can.
I missed the sense of the exotic in this novel that I got from 'A Passage to India' and 'Where Angels Fear to Tread' - and yet the world of the priveleged in the UK and the cloisters of Cambridge University are exotic for me. It's just that they are so gloomy in this novel - gloomy and troubled. Even the countryside is blighted by the freight trains that repeatedly claim lives as they tramp the landscape.
This novel also has melodramatic elements that stretched my sense of credibility, however revelations of surprises are wonderfully managed. While my thoughts were heading in the right direction with the major revelation, when it did come it brought a true 'aha!' feeling - it made so much sense and yet I, like the characters in the story, had not seen it coming.
But, perhaps for me, the most disappointing aspect of this novel is its attitude towards the 'disadvantaged'. As in the movie 'Edward Scissorhand' the 'distorted' person, while capable of receiving small 'gifts of love' (as Morike put it - see Hugo Wolf's song 'Verborgenheit') it seems from these views of life that the realistic approach to the 'distorted' is that they are incapable of true happiness or fulfilment. This is a view I certainly don't subscribe to.
The structure in which Forster composes The Longest Journey sometimes borders on an obsessive control of the novel's plot and particularly the characters. As the events of the story unfold, we see the frame leading us to a central statement about the human condition. The overemphasis of these points crowded with immense symbolism leads us to question the effectiveness of Forster's statements. Particular points in the story, such as Rickie's realisation that Stephen is his half brother and the reintroduction of Ansell teamed with Stephen, leave us in a troublesome position asking whether this highly personal story was sacrificed to the musically fluent style Forster was working. The Longest Journey's most difficult problem is that it introduces itself as a modernist novel whose commitment is to style, yet its story is obviously Forster's personal account of a series of emotions and events in his own life.
The narrator's voice and Rickie's are essentially interchangeable. The only difference between the two is that the narrator is consciously aware of what Rickie's subconscious knows, but can't admit. If Rickie were so closely intertwined with the authorial voice, then it would seem that there is no room for intimacy with the reader. Yet, the story redeems itself through Rickie's struggle because it is so personal in its metaphysical complications. It is only later in the story, as it drifts farther away from Rickie's consciousness that the emotional impact lets go and we are left wandering through labyrinths of overt symbolic designs. The design in which Rickie is brought to his end is ultimately unfulfilling because the tragedy of the human condition makes itself so poignantly clear when the story is brought full circle to the ending ominously predicted from the outset. Instead, we are asked to accept that no life is tragic because of the enduring factor a human's spiritual hope. If Stephen were created as a character more complicated than a pastoral hero, then this resolution might be effective. However, in the troublesome structure it exists in, it falls short of an enlightening resolution.
Within the complex faults that unfold from an authorial voice inseparable from a central character's consciousness, there is a meaning that resounds through. Apart from stylistic concerns, the modernists were intensely concerned about the human's existential crisis that results from an awareness of the bleak resistance to have faith in either scientific or theological assertions. Rickie is the only vehicle with which we can understand and interpret the complicity of an early twentieth century man's reality. The other characters exist as mere paper figures that serve stilted plot functions. It is through Rickie alone that we understand this particular metaphysical crisis. These sentiments are what make The Longest Journey an important work of modernist fiction in the historical sense. Its theoretical importance lies in the fact of its mismatched structural and sentimental tale's existence.
There is an odd coincidence between symbols he and other modernist writers use. For example, Rickie hangs a towel over a painted harp in the room he is sleeping in at Ansell's house just as Woolf wrote about Mrs. Ramsay hanging her shawl over the skull hanging in the children's bedroom. The symbolic meaning of this can be interpreted in various ways. Yet, in Woolf's writing the meaning makes itself abundantly more clear because the style with which she works supersedes the story in To the Lighthouse. This is why To the Lighthouse is a more successful modernist experiment. A writer that does not work within the laws of the form in which they are working will inevitably fail in their efforts. Forster does not seem to be ignorant of these laws, but he is so enthusiastic about the application of them that his obsessive use of the stylistics becomes rather inappropriate.
Forster often declaimed himself as "not a great novelist". The reason he felt this was probably because he was not able to abide by the standards that he himself set as the qualifications for great novels. This is, at least, the primary objection to be made toward The Longest Journey. In Aspects of the Novel Forster writes, "The novelist who betrays too much interest in his own method can never be more than interesting; he has given up the creation of character and summoned us to help analyse his own mind, and a heavy drop in the emotional thermometer results". The obsessive control of style as an opposition to the driving story he wanted to tell in The Longest Journey proves to be a fatal merging of a novelist who wants to keep with the artistic innovations of his time. Forster is too aware of his use of stylistic method to make the novel a wholly satisfactory piece of literature. Yet, because there is so much of Forster in the novel, it remains a very interesting book to serious and passionate readers.
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This book was very useful to me in my research. My research is in the area of data compression and its applications to communication networks. The title of my dissertation is Data Compression Techniques in Modern Communication Networks.
C.S. Rani, Ph.D.
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