Rating: 
Summary: intriguing cast of characters
Review: 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.
Rating:
Summary: Beautifully failed attempt to control the phenomena.
Review: Emile Zola once said that realism's almost neurotic attention to detail stems from its attempt to control the chaos of its own subject. James focuses his eye upon every detail of every object in the spectrum of this novel, supposedly attempting to give us an objective rendering of a story about Hyacinth Robinson, an unwittingly aristocratic proletarian bookbinder who gets involved with the "seedy" London terrorist underground. The fascinating thing about this novel though, is (like my Literature of Terrorism professor said) the fact that while it seems overly obcessed about detail, so much of the story itself happens in the background. No matter how the "objective" narrator of the novel attempts to use details inhabiting the scene to wrest control of that scene, something always remains elusive. Things are unsaid; people are places where they shouldn't be. One hardly ever knows exactly whom to trust and whom to fear. The characters, themselves, become strange amalgamations of passive by-standards and active participants in this strange plot to kill a duke with a hand-pistol. One of the most important genus of questions to consider while reading this book is not "what's portrayed here," but "what is left out?" Why do the terrorists use a hand-pistol, when James's own London was reeling from the a terror in which individuals threatened to use dynamite in public squares? Why do the characters care more about the abolition of the aristocracy than effecting any real economic change? These terrorist ARE anti-aristocracy, but at a time when so many revolutionaries started reading the works of Marx, why is the economic question left completely out of this work, while on the other hand being at its center? This book opens up more questions than it seeks to answer. It hides more details than it reveals. But, even though some readers may be bogged down by the sometimes useless attention to detail, many will be amazed at how James's novel recreates paranoia and forces the reader to participate in that paranoia. The phenomena hides in the details, and people expecting a "realistic" James will be surprised by how much the author uses realism as a diversion, taking us from important pertinent events into lavish but ultimately hollow depictions of scenery and art. In this way, realism protects us from the dark corners of the novel, forcing us into the unreal and away from the stark reality of terrorism, where we fear to tread.
Rating:
Summary: Beautifully failed attempt to control the phenomena.
Review: Emile Zola once said that realism's almost neurotic attention to detail stems from its attempt to control the chaos of its own subject. James focuses his eye upon every detail of every object in the spectrum of this novel, supposedly attempting to give us an objective rendering of a story about Hyacinth Robinson, an unwittingly aristocratic proletarian bookbinder who gets involved with the "seedy" London terrorist underground. The fascinating thing about this novel though, is (like my Literature of Terrorism professor said) the fact that while it seems overly obcessed about detail, so much of the story itself happens in the background. No matter how the "objective" narrator of the novel attempts to use details inhabiting the scene to wrest control of that scene, something always remains elusive. Things are unsaid; people are places where they shouldn't be. One hardly ever knows exactly whom to trust and whom to fear. The characters, themselves, become strange amalgamations of passive by-standards and active participants in this strange plot to kill a duke with a hand-pistol. One of the most important genus of questions to consider while reading this book is not "what's portrayed here," but "what is left out?" Why do the terrorists use a hand-pistol, when James's own London was reeling from the a terror in which individuals threatened to use dynamite in public squares? Why do the characters care more about the abolition of the aristocracy than effecting any real economic change? These terrorist ARE anti-aristocracy, but at a time when so many revolutionaries started reading the works of Marx, why is the economic question left completely out of this work, while on the other hand being at its center? This book opens up more questions than it seeks to answer. It hides more details than it reveals. But, even though some readers may be bogged down by the sometimes useless attention to detail, many will be amazed at how James's novel recreates paranoia and forces the reader to participate in that paranoia. The phenomena hides in the details, and people expecting a "realistic" James will be surprised by how much the author uses realism as a diversion, taking us from important pertinent events into lavish but ultimately hollow depictions of scenery and art. In this way, realism protects us from the dark corners of the novel, forcing us into the unreal and away from the stark reality of terrorism, where we fear to tread.
Rating: 
Summary: Overview of "The Princess CasaMassima"
Review: 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.
Rating: 
Summary: Portrait of an Artist as a failed terrorist - brilliant
Review: I remember when I was in college attending a screening of an old black and white version of "The Turn of the Screw" and was completely enraptured. That movie based on a James short story is the closest I have ever seen a film capture the supernatural, but not so much by what happens as by what is left unsaid. This is a writer I should check out someday, I told myself.
Over the course of the years I tried to skim several of James novels but they could only elicit a mild interest. Only recently when I turned 40 and became rather bored with most what is out there, especially the contemporary writings which seemed to me as nothing more than a dispassionate rehash of the same old same old did I accidentally encounter a review by a professor and was intrigued by the fact that the man had, in the wake of the September 11 bombing, hastily replaced his habitual Henry James entry in his Classics course with this novel.
I have finished only the first half of this book and feel passionate enough to announce, even if the rest of the novel turns out to be absolute gibberish, that I have to include it with my erstwhile collection of livres extraordinaires; Anna Karenina, Bleak House, The Star Rover, The Trial, Journey to
the End of the Night, Laughter in the Dark etc. These are books that actually change your state of consciousness; i.e. reading these books may be dangerous to your complacency about the state of the world. Be warned then, this is one of those books that may leave you a tormented soul, your mind like the waves of a stormy ocean. But then again perhaps it may be necessary to achieve such turbulence before the 'peace that passes all understanding'. And if Nirvana never comes then at least one lived to one's human capacity. But I digress, back to the Princess; if you want categorization then you could say that this is a Political Novel, A Love Story, A Study of the Human Condition but that would be less meaningful than to say that every page, nay every line of this story is as pleasurable to me as the most delicious Swiss chocolate or glass of wine, more so.
That this story is highly personal for James wherein the protagonist, Hyacinth, embodies the writer's innermost yearnings both conscious and unconscious lends it a certain authenticity which is rare indeed and the remarkably sympathy displayed for every character however lowly is sometimes heartbreaking in its incisiveness. Most remarkable, given James patrician background, is the realistic depiction of poor sans patronizing. One could very well read this novel in the context of recent terrorist events as an insightful study of what makes an otherwise sane young man take the aforementioned path. And while the creed and doctrines of the novel's protagonist are certainly quite different from his contemporary peers, there is the same idealism, the discontent and the quest for glory that ends dismally but which has its roots not in some spontaneous mutation of the soul but its organic evolvement from circumstance and day to day, even mundane encounters.
In a world that offers on the one hand the slow death of the submission to the status quo and on the end the quick violence of lopsided revolutions, and where the very human soul (Or if you are Buddhist, the authentic self), which is diminutive to begin with, is daily diminished in its encounters with the loveless, the possibility of earthly happiness may be only available in one's complete absorption in something genuinely artistic. It would not be to far-fetched to say that in his heart of heart, James too wanted to wanted to blow up a building.
But he chooses to be an artist instead...
Rating:
Summary: Portrait of an Artist as a failed terrorist - brilliant
Review: I remember when I was in college attending a screening of an old black and white version of "The Turn of the Screw" and was completely enraptured. That movie based on a James short story is the closest I have ever seen a film capture the supernatural, but not so much by what happens as by what is left unsaid. This is a writer I should check out someday, I told myself.
Over the course of the years I tried to skim several of James novels but they could only elicit a mild interest. Only recently when I turned 40 and became rather bored with most what is out there, especially the contemporary writings which seemed to me as nothing more than a dispassionate rehash of the same old same old did I accidentally encounter a review by a professor and was intrigued by the fact that the man had, in the wake of the September 11 bombing, hastily replaced his habitual Henry James entry in his Classics course with this novel.
I have finished only the first half of this book and feel passionate enough to announce, even if the rest of the novel turns out to be absolute gibberish, that I have to include it with my erstwhile collection of livres extraordinaires; Anna Karenina, Bleak House, The Star Rover, The Trial, Journey to
the End of the Night, Laughter in the Dark etc. These are books that actually change your state of consciousness; i.e. reading these books may be dangerous to your complacency about the state of the world. Be warned then, this is one of those books that may leave you a tormented soul, your mind like the waves of a stormy ocean. But then again perhaps it may be necessary to achieve such turbulence before the 'peace that passes all understanding'. And if Nirvana never comes then at least one lived to one's human capacity. But I digress, back to the Princess; if you want categorization then you could say that this is a Political Novel, A Love Story, A Study of the Human Condition but that would be less meaningful than to say that every page, nay every line of this story is as pleasurable to me as the most delicious Swiss chocolate or glass of wine, more so.
That this story is highly personal for James wherein the protagonist, Hyacinth, embodies the writer's innermost yearnings both conscious and unconscious lends it a certain authenticity which is rare indeed and the remarkably sympathy displayed for every character however lowly is sometimes heartbreaking in its incisiveness. Most remarkable, given James patrician background, is the realistic depiction of poor sans patronizing. One could very well read this novel in the context of recent terrorist events as an insightful study of what makes an otherwise sane young man take the aforementioned path. And while the creed and doctrines of the novel's protagonist are certainly quite different from his contemporary peers, there is the same idealism, the discontent and the quest for glory that ends dismally but which has its roots not in some spontaneous mutation of the soul but its organic evolvement from circumstance and day to day, even mundane encounters.
In a world that offers on the one hand the slow death of the submission to the status quo and on the end the quick violence of lopsided revolutions, and where the very human soul (Or if you are Buddhist, the authentic self), which is diminutive to begin with, is daily diminished in its encounters with the loveless, the possibility of earthly happiness may be only available in one's complete absorption in something genuinely artistic. It would not be to far-fetched to say that in his heart of heart, James too wanted to wanted to blow up a building.
But he chooses to be an artist instead...
Rating:
Summary: James Tackles Political Terror...sort of
Review: 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?
Rating:
Summary: Dickensian!
Review: I wonder why the review I wrote of this novel last summer isn't here... thankfully I remember enough to write about it.. Not one of James's best efforts. If you have read Conrad's "Secret Agent" you'll have the right idea. Hyacinth never comes across as an interesting enough main character. James is too much of a refined gentleman to capture effectively the "occult back rooms" in which terrorist plots are hatched. Some tedious stretches of writing, something I'm not used to with James...
Rating:
Summary: Dickensian in Scope...
Review: Published in 1886, the same year as The Bostonians, this novel is not as interesting or intriguing as The Bostonians. Though the preface indicates that this novel's setting is "lush and opulent, in fin-de-siecle surroundings, taking the reader from London to Paris, and then to Venice and back again," this novel actually is set (about 80 percent of it) in the squalid London slums, the home of the hero, Hyacinth Robinson. The story, I admit, has a fine array of minor characters, all quirky and finely portrayed. Millicent Henning, the cockney hoyden, is one of my favorite Jamesian minor characters thus far. The plot deals with social unrest in 1880's London, with Hyacinth taking on the role (or the modern equivalent) of the suicide bomber. This illegitimate son of a French prostitute (another Dickensian touch, along with the setting) is eventually torn between his love for "the people" and democracy and his love for the finer things in life as held by the aristocracy. The question is: can Hyacinth overcome his desire to preserve forever the fruits of artistry (in the form of magnificent architecture, sumptuous furniture, etc...) and follow through with his assasination assignment, knowing that if "the people" win, the lovely objets d'art that he passionately admires may be lost forever in the coming holocaust? Christina Light, introduced in James's novel Roderick Hudson, is as always exasperating yet strangely charismatic. She is not quite a minor character; she is actually the catalyst for much of Hyacinth's actions. She's a marvelous creation. The underground movement into which Hyacinth is drawn never quite achieves credibility, as it is always described in shadowy terms. James's style has not quite ripened into his difficult "later style" by the time this novel was written, so it is not a difficult read. Yet, it is not a page turner like The Bostonians, or like his greatest novel by far, Portrait of a Lady. Some stretches are tedious, as James is intent on letting every single character interact with each other before letting the plot take its course. It didn't seem necessary, though, to do this. As a result, much of what is on the printed page is often extraneous. A must for James fanatics, but as I said earlier, if you want to delve into James's middle period, try The Bostonians.
Rating:
Summary: Unusual Political Novel
Review: This is James's only overtly political novel. Before reading I wondered how a man of his background could write about working class political conspirators. He does so by making his protagonist an exquisitely sensitive young bookbinder who becomes involved in a political movement he only dimly comprehends. The bookbinder, Hyacinth, is befriended by the Princess Casamissima, a charming, completely self-absorbed young beauty who is trying to find herself in radical political activity. The plot is, therefore, more of a fairy tale than a realistic portait of "typical" working class revolutionaries, but on its own terms it is plausible enough. The style is leisurely and fairly complex, but not nearly as convoluted as James's last works. The great value of this book lies in its nuanced characterizations. All of the characters are wholly rounded and believable, and while they are all flawed in some way, not one of them is wholly unsympathetic. The Princess is the most interesting of all; through her James shows how bored, unsatisfied aristocrats can dabble in radical politics with disasterous results. He does so, however, without reducing her to a caricature.
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