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Well, I'm continuing along in my quest to read all of Henry James' oeuvre in chronological order - I'm up to 1881 and 'Portrait of a Lady' - which I last remember reading during an unexpected delay in a Toronto air port during a blizzard.
I've rediscovered the forgettable 'Roderick Hudson', the still unsettling 'The American', the forgettable 'Daisy Miller', the screwball comedies of 'The Europeans' and 'Confidence' - yes, they are funny to read now, and plowed through 'Washington Square' with the dullest heroine ever known, and the most despicable do-gooder Mrs. Penniman.
Not to mention legions of short stories of varying quality. And the much maligned 'Hawthorne' - a quasi tribute to America's only great novelist [in James' not so humble opinion] .... which understandably angered the American readers, by listing all the attributes and features America lacked.
I'll continue on with the ultimate goal of finally reading all of 'The Golden Bowl' without suffering brain damage. Gradually acclimating my senses to James' increasingly complex style may allow me to enjoy one of his most stylistically dense compositions.
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