The Buccaneers

by Edith Wharton, Flo Gibson (Narrator)

Set in the 1870s, the same period as Wharton's The Age of Innocence, The Buccaneers is about five wealthy American girls denied entry into New York Society because their parents' money is too new. At the suggestion of their clever governess, the girls sail to London, where they marry lords, earls, and dukes who find their beauty charming - and their wealth extremely useful.

Genres: Classics, Fiction, Historical Fiction, Romance, Historical, Book Club, American

Audiobook

First published January 1, 1938

About the author

Edith Wharton emerged as one of America’s most insightful novelists, deftly exposing the tensions between societal expectation and personal desire through her vivid portrayals of upper-class life. Drawing from her deep familiarity with New York’s privileged “aristocracy,” she offered readers a keenly observed and piercingly honest vision of Gilded Age society.

Her work reached a milestone when she became the first woman to receive the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction, awarded for The Age of Innocence. This novel highlights the constraining rituals of 1870s New York society and remains a defining portrait of elegance laced with regret.

Wharton’s literary achievements span a wide canvas. The House of Mirth presents a tragic, vividly drawn character study of Lily Bart, navigating social expectations and the perils of genteel poverty in 1890s New York. In Ethan Frome, she explores rural hardship and emotional repression, contrasting sharply with her urban social dramas.

Her novella collection Old New York revisits the moral terrain of upper-class society, spanning decades and combining character studies with social commentary. Through these stories, she inevitably points back to themes and settings familiar from The Age of Innocence. Continuing her exploration of class and desire, The Glimpses of the Moon addresses marriage and social mobility in early 20th-century America. And in Summer, Wharton challenges societal norms with its rural setting and themes of sexual awakening and social inequality.

Beyond fiction, Wharton contributed compelling nonfiction and travel writing. The Decoration of Houses reflects her eye for design and architecture; Fighting France: From Dunkerque to Belfort presents a compelling account of her wartime observations. As editor of The Book of the Homeless, she curated a moving, international collaboration in support of war refugees.

Wharton’s influence extended beyond writing. She designed her own country estate, The Mount, a testament to her architectural sensibility and aesthetic vision. The Mount now stands as an educational museum celebrating her legacy.

Throughout her career, Wharton maintained friendships and artistic exchanges with luminaries such as Henry James, Sinclair Lewis, Jean Cocteau, André Gide, and Theodore Roosevelt—reflecting her status as a respected and connected cultural figure.
Her literary legacy also includes multiple Nobel Prize nominations, underscoring her international recognition. She was nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature more than once.

In sum, Edith Wharton remains celebrated for her unflinching, elegant prose, her psychological acuity, and her capacity to illuminate the unspoken constraints of society—from the glittering ballrooms of New York to quieter, more remote settings. Her wide-ranging work—novels, novellas, short stories, poetry, travel writing, essays—offers cultural insight, enduring emotional depth, and a piercing critique of the customs she both inhabited and dissected.

Reviews

[Candi · Rating 5 out of 5]

"First, the Romans had come. Then the Angles, Jutes, and Saxons. Then the Danes terrorized England for three centuries. Norman pirates took the country over in 1066. Five centuries later Turks raided the Thames and took prisoners to sell in the Libyan slave-market… But never had there been any phenomenon to match this… – this ‘invasion of England by American women and their chiefs of commissariat, the silent American men’…"

This is by no means a high seas adventure story and you won’t find any swashbuckling pirates within these pages. What you will find is a delightful and wholly absorbing story about a group of ‘new rich’ young ladies and their struggle to attain social status and suitable husbands in the complex society of 1870’s New York. Annabel St. George, her sister Virginia, Lizzy and Mabel Elmsworth, and Conchita Closson will find that they just don’t quite fit into the highest of social circles. Rather than vacationing at the fashionable Newport, they find themselves strolling the verandahs of the apparently less exclusive Saratoga – much to the dismay of their overly ambitious and scheming mothers.

Thank goodness for the likes of Miss Laura Testvalley who has been hired as governess to Annabel, or Nan. Miss Testvalley is a godsend indeed – more than just a teacher of letters, manners and music, she will help Nan navigate the tricky and unmerciful currents of her society. Nan is not your ordinary social ladder-climbing young woman. She is romantic and clever and has hopes and dreams beyond that of a marriage made simply with the goal of achieving rank and wealth. I do believe Miss Testvalley sees her own reflection in the young eyes of Nan. Miss Testvalley’s background and link to an impoverished family may not match that of Nan’s upbringing, but in those things that matter most in life – those of the mind and of the heart – Miss Testvalley is a true champion. I simply adored her steadfast affection and support of Nan and her well-being.

Now, when one doesn’t quite succeed amongst the fierce competition of young ladies in New York society, there is one solution – England. At a time when many of the British aristocracy still upheld their titles and legacy but lacked the funds to sufficiently maintain their lands and other holdings, new money from overseas was perhaps just the ticket to preserving such heritage. And now behold ‘the buccaneers’ – our young ladies from New York. Can they – and their superficial mothers – achieve what they intensely desire in this country? There now exists a whole new set of rules and customs to which they must conform. Nan finds herself in love with the land and the sense of history which it invokes. Maybe finally this is a place in which she can find true happiness.

"It was not the atmosphere of London but of England which had gradually filled her veins and penetrated to her heart. She thought of the thinness of the mental and moral air in her own home: the noisy quarrels about nothing, the paltry preoccupations, her mother’s feverish interest in the fashions and follies of a society which had always ignored her. At least life in England had a background, layers and layers of rich deep background, of history, poetry, old traditional observances, beautiful houses, beautiful landscapes, beautiful ancient buildings, palaces, churches, cathedrals. Would it not be possible, in some mysterious way, to create for oneself a life out of all this richness, a life which would somehow make up for the poverty of one’s personal lot?"

But what is a girl to do when presented with the attentions of Guy Thwarte – landholder and heir to Honourslove, a place towards which Nan feels herself somehow immediately attached, or the Duke of Tintagel – owner of the romantic and historical castle of Tintagel, a place steeped in the legends of King Arthur. How this plays out, you will have to find out for yourself! You will most likely root for Nan with as much devotion as did I and Miss Testvalley. You will nod in agreement with Edith Wharton’s subtle and witty scorn towards the customs and demands of both the New York upper crust as well as the British aristocracy. You will fall in love with the elegant prose which Wharton displays so flawlessly.

One important note regarding this novel which did not in the least affect my desire to read it – Edith Wharton passed away prior to finishing writing this. My version included an ending completed by Marion Mainwaring, a Wharton scholar. I was not able to distinguish a difference in writing style between the words of Wharton versus Mainwaring, but then I am not by any means a Wharton scholar, but simply an amateur reader who thoroughly appreciated the effort put forth by Mainwaring. However, I can’t help but wish that Wharton had survived to see this novel through to completion. One will never know exactly how she intended for this to end, but I was nevertheless quite satisfied.

[Sara · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Buccaneers is Edith Wharton’s last and uncompleted novel. She had written approximately 89,000 words before her death and the novel was printed in its incomplete form by her publisher. In 1993 Marion Mainwaring, a noted Wharton scholar, completed the story, in line with notes that Wharton had left behind. She did a good job, since there is no obvious break in the voice between the beginning of the book and the end, but it seems clear to me that no one, even a great scholar, could ever know exactly how Wharton would have ended her work. If someone was going to guess, I think Mainwaring was a good choice, but I can’t help wishing Wharton could have done it herself and that it were as pure a Wharton as The Age of Innocence and The House of Mirth.

Despite this, The Buccaneers is a masterful work of fiction, set in Wharton’s high-society world, and full of the angst and manipulation that makes me happy for just a moment not to have been among the fabulously wealthy, well-married women of the time. Love and marriage do not go together like a horse and carriage in Wharton’s world. Marriage is mostly an institution of convenience and profit, you get a name and I get money, and woe to the romantically inclined girl who stumbles into this world of harsh reality unawares.

It is the reality behind the mask in a Wharton that makes it so worthwhile to read her. She strips the conventions to the bone and calls them by name. She exposes what people are willing to do and become in an effort to climb a social ladder, where someone else is always contriving to knock them off or at least kick them down a rung. And, she is superbly adept at lending light to the less affluent who have to circle in this world and navigate its waters. One of her finest characters in The Buccaneers is Miss Laura Testvalley, a governess who knows her place and sees the world without any rose-colored glasses, but whose caring heart cannot resist loving and aiding her charge, Annabel St. George (Nan).

There is always the beauty of Wharton’s descriptive writing that would, alone, make me wish to read this book: It was dark when Folyat House loomed high and stately in Portman Square, light shining from its long rows of windows and torches flaming at the grand portal. Footmen jumped down from the barouche which had met the travelers at Paddington, opened the escutcheoned doors, and helped them out. Other footmen led them up steps and into an oval colonnaded lobby. The Glenloe girls’ eyes widened as the groom-of-the-chambers, attended by yet other footmen, conducted them into a great rectangular hall through an arch at the opposite end.” When I read that,I feel I am one of the Glenloe girls and can see the glamour of the hall and the bustle of the footmen providing their services to the titled and privileged in a stoic and efficient manner.

I loved seeing the five girls (who are the buccaneers) transform from innocent pawns in the game to active players. In the beginning, they are primarily spurred on by ambitious mothers, while they are, themselves, just happy to have a good time and attract the attention of the men. By the end, they are among the ones pulling the strings and conniving for power, and the wheat is separated from the chaff, as they say.

They change, even toward one another. “Virginia, who had seemed to Annabel so secure, so aloof, so disdainful of everything but her own pleasures, but who, as Lady Seadown, was enslaved to that dull half-sleeping Seadown, absorbed in questions of rank and precedence, and in awe--actually in awe--of her father-in-law’s stupid arrogance…”

Finally, they are seen, even by their husbands as pirates, conquerors, rulers who come to rule by stealth:
”What a gang of buccaneers you are!” he breathed to his wife.
“Buccaneers,” Lizzy reminded him gently, “were not notorious for paying fortunes for what they took.”

Several of these girls do pay heavily for what they take, and they pay more than money. Those who fail to toe society’s line pay a price and lose a lot, but those who adhere to it pay almost as much, if not more. Wharton does not traffic in happily ever after in her novels--people die, they are ruined, they are impoverished. I personally see the hand of Mainwaring in this novel most heavily in the lightness of the penalties exacted. I believe Wharton would have visited a harsher punishment on her characters in the end. She was unflinching when portraying the viciousness of society. She had seen it in her lifetime. She knew the costs. You need only think of Lily Bart to know that she did. I can’t help wondering, had fate allowed Wharton to finish this novel, if my dear Nan and Laura Testvalley would have been spared.

[Olive Fellows (abookolive) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really interesting, this one. A group of American girls having trouble becoming integrated in the social scene of New York head to England, largely as a result of the connections of the newly-hired governess of one of the girls, where they are outsiders and therefore novelties, and try their hands there instead. We focus more on one of them - Annabel ("Nan") - more than the others. She's the most successful of them all in the rank of man she bags, but she ends up much worse for it.

The Buccaneers was left incomplete upon Wharton's death, but a Wharton scholar named Marion Mainwaring went back and completed it using the late author's outlines, so it concluded how she wished it to. The fact that anyone would come in and touch the great Wharton's work seemed to scandalize some back in the 90s when this came out, but I found her touch undetectable; in every way (maybe besides the more upbeat ending, which was not Wharton's bailiwick), this is a Wharton novel through-and-through.

[Sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've fallen in love, readers!

It took me about 12 hours from start to finish to read the last of Wharton's novels, left unfinished for decades and then completed in Wharton's style by scholar Marion Mainwaring. As I mentioned earlier, I've watched the PBS series three times now and there's something about it that gets to me. Perhaps because it's sexier and funnier and looser than what one would expect from the era, and because [SPOILER ALERT:] its ending which actually arises from Wharton's notes, is decidedly un-Whartonian. I'm terribly moved by the idea that at the end of her life, Edith Wharton would decide to write a novel about a heroine who behaves in the exact opposite way of nearly all her other major characters, who--to put it quite frankly--doesn't give a shit about social convention and flouts it utterly. I like to think of it as the author's reconciliation to romance, her final, deathbed middle finger to the rules and hierarchies with which she had such a deeply-tortured relationships.

Reading The Buccaneers is a dream for those who like comedies-of-manners for their own sake. Wharton will never be Austen: she takes ten lines to explain the social relationships that Austen dispatches with a sentence (this, I think, is evidence of Wharton's psychic struggle with society). But the first two thirds of the book, written by Wharton without revision, each page dropped off the side of her bed as she finished it, are blithe, satirical, sexy and both funny and sad.

The many scenes where the characters forge connections over poetry and art as well Nan St. George's stifling marriage and post-marital sexual awakening make me feel as though this is Wharton's Persuasion. And like that novel and other novels with heavy autobiographical elements--Copperfield, The Song of the Lark, etc. it has an emotional immediacy that feels startling and gives it a value different from a more controlled, classically perfect novel.

Wharton's contrast of Laura Testevalley, who gives up on romance and sacrifices her chance of happiness so that Nan can run away with Guy Thwarte, and Nan, who finds happiness with Guy after having giving up on it in her role as duchess, fascinates: one feels that Wharton is both Laura, in middle age loosening her scruple, and Nan herself.

Mainwaring's best contributions are a number of concluding love scenes that are satisfying (if not as satisfying as the wheat-field fornication in the film ;)) and a deft weaving-in of the horribly sexist divorce laws of the time that existed to punish women, humiliate them, and treat them as property. Marital rape is legal, and Nan's refusal to "produce heirs" for her huband after becoming emotionally estranged from him is a pivotal plot point.

This was definitely the best read I've embarked on in a while. I couldn't recommend it enough for Wharton fans who have long desired a less "thwarted" ending for her characters. I'd add that picturing Greg Wise in the romantic leading role definitely added a lot to the reading experience.



http://unpretentiouslitcrit.blogspot....

[Teresa · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is only my second Wharton novel and my favourite so far. Hard to say where the original manuscript ends and the new author took over, although it did read slightly different at times.
Reading the classics is like a rest for me from my everyday reading. As in this book the story and writing meanders along like a stream on a Summer's day.
I loved Nan's story and character. She was extremely naive and lived in a fantasy world until rudely awakened but even this was gentle and slow. Miss Testvalley was another character I enjoyed amid a host of colourful ones.
I've been watching the new series on tv and I'm glad to say the book is so much better. The characters in the series are way over the top and totally different.
I spent a lovely few leisurely days reading this and intend to read more by the author.

[Katya]

Jovens Rebeldes (The Buccaneers) é um livro esplêndido e de uma contenção magnífica que contém toda a elegância e fina ironia de que Wharton sempre faz uso. E, se ao longo da sua obra, é normal encontrar a autora e o seu mundo plasmados sem subterfúgios, isso é duas vezes evidente neste que é o último livro que escreve.
Todo ele revestido pela experiência de vida da autora, The Buccaneers- nome ainda mais apropriado do que Jovens Rebeldes, pela forte dose de ironia que a autora lhe imprime -, narra nada mais nada menos do que a conquista/invasão social de terras inglesas por um grupo avant-garde de jovens casadoiras norte americanas.
Provenientes de um meio elitista onde proliferam os nouveaux riches, as jovens rebeldes expatriadas são conduzidas em bando até à sociedade inglesa pela mão de suas mães: mulheres experientes nos círculos posh da década de setenta do século XIX, um mundo onde o estatuto social obedece a uma série de critérios de aparência, códigos de conduta e ligações de conveniência que estas mulheres já sabem manobrar, mas a que também sabem obedecer:

Semana após semana, dia após dia, a ansiosa mãe tinha comparado os predicados da Menina Elmswood com os de Virginia. No que dizia respeito ao cabelo e à pele, não podia haver dúvidas, Virginia, toda ela pérola, com as suas madeixas de cabelos louros empilhadas sobre a testa baixa, era tão pura e luminosa como uma flor de macieira. Mas a cintura de Lizzy era, indubitavelmente, pelo menos dois centímetros e meio mais fina (havia quem dissesse cinco centímetros), as sobrancelhas escuras de Lizzy tinham uma curvatura mais ousada, e o andar de Lizzy... onde teria uma nova-rica como aquela Elmsworth ido buscar aquele andar tão arrogante? Sim, mas reconfortava-a notar que a pele de Lizzy era opaca e desprovida de vida, em comparação com a de Virginia, e que os seus belos olhos revelavam génio, o que por certo assustaria os jovens. Todavia, ela possuía, num grau alarmante, aquilo a que se chamava «estilo», e a Sra. St. George suspeitava de que, nos círculos onde pretendia introduzir as suas filhas, o estilo era muito mas apreciado do que a beleza.

Mas a nova geração de jovens que toma a Inglaterra de surpresa não se aquieta às normas em vigor, choca com a tradição, é, em grande parte, mais esclarecida do que a geração de mulheres que a antecede e já não está disposta a tanta resignação aos moldes habituais:

- Oh, Guy Thwarte(...). É um dos mais fascinantes maus-partidos de Inglaterra.
- Mau-partido porquê?
- É um rapaz por quem todas as mulheres ficam loucas, mas que é pobre de mais para se casarem com ele. O único tipo que resta às mulheres casadas, na realidade... por isso, não lhe toque, minha querida. Não que eu queira Guy para mim - acrescentou Conchita com um sorriso preguiçoso. Dick já foi suficientemente mau-partido para mim. Aquilo que eu procuro é um amigo com um rendimento que ele não saiba como gastar.

Espartilhadas pelas instituições e estruturas sociais que condicionam as mulheres através do casamento a viver numa «Idade da Inocência» (como a própria autora a descrevia) - mergulhadas numa hierarquia masculina de dinheiro e poder, e modéstia e moral femininas -, apesar de toda a sua rebeldia, estas jovens estão condenadas a repetir os modelos de submissão tão bem conhecidos:

(...)agora, que ele se tomara um homem importante em Wall Street, onde a vida parecia tornar-se cada dia mais febril, era perfeitamente natural que ele necessitasse de um pouco de descontração, embora ela deplorasse que esta fosse alcançada sempre através do póquer e do uísque e, por vezes, segundo receava, do terceiro elemento celebrado pela canção. Embora a Sra. St. George fosse agora uma preocupada mulher de meia-idade, com filhas crescidas, custava-lhe tanto a resignar-se a essa ideia como na altura em que encontrara pela primeira vez, no bolso do marido, uma carta que não se destinava a ser lida por ela. Mas nada podia fazer quanto a isso, nem quanto ao uísque e ao póquer ou quanto as visitas a locais onde se servia o jogo e o champanhe a todas as horas, e onde os cavalheiros que tinham ganh[ado] na roleta ou nas corridas ceavam em meretrícia companhia. A Sra. St. George tinha conhecimento, havia longo tempo, de tudo isso, mas sentia-se meio consolada, quando o coronel vinha reunir-se à sua familia em Long Branch ou Saratoga, por saber que, na longa sala de jantar do hotel, todas as outras preocupadas esposas de meia idade lhe invejavam o seu esplêndido marido.

Entre os grupos de Nova Iorque que chegam às receções e aos bailes aristocráticos britânicos, os Closson, os Elmsworth e os St. George, encontra-se Annabele (Nan) St. George, a mais sui generis entre os seus pares, jovem de ideais românticos e um gosto pouco saudável por literatura e arte. Criatura dócil e sensível, Nan é pois a presa por excelência de uma sociedade manietada por normas arcaicas, alimentada por ilusões e aparências que compete manter sob quaisquer circunstâncias:

[Nan] Sabia que a visão de Virginia do mundo se limitava às pessoas, às roupas que usavam e às carruagens em que viajavam. O seu próprio universo estava tão cheio de visões e sons maravilhosos que, apesar de sentir a superioridade de Virginia - a sua beleza, o seu à-vontade, a sua autoconfiança -, Nan sentia, por vezes, uma pena envergonhada da irmã. Devia haver frio e solidão, pensava ela, naquele mundo vazio e incolor de Virginia.

Então, felizmente, eis a deixa para entrar Miss Laura Testvaley. À semelhança do papel que Anna Catherine Bahlmann teve na vida de Edith Wharton, Laura Testvaley, inglesa de origem italiana, descendente de Dante Gabriel Rossetti, mulher esclarecida e independente, será a percetora que irá guiar Nan nos meandros cruéis de uma sociedade a que só se sobrevive com arrogância ou uma forte couraça de sentido de humor:

- Bom, meninas, estão com o ar de quem veio de um funeral - observou ela (...).
-E viemos. Vimos todos os velhos cadáveres de Londres vestidos para aquele espectáculo de circo a que chamam a Recepção.

Incutindo no espírito da jovem pupila toda uma casta de valores que, longe de serem anódinos, antes despertam em Nan sentimentos de liberdade e realização pessoall, será a influência de Laura Testvaley o suficiente para decidir a felicidade de Nan?
Wharton, também ela uma jovem mulher casada por conveniência (com 23 anos corria o risco de virar uma solteirona), não se coíbe de atacar as estruturas que cedo a condenam, nem de procurar, através da triste pantomina que faz as suas personagens representar, um sentido mais profundo para as evasões a que a mulher se via obrigada perante a formatação social:

- Annabel Tintagel - disse lentamente, - quem é Annabel Tintagel?
Era uma pergunta que fizera a si mesma repetidas vezes durante os últimos meses, e a resposta era sempre a mesma: não sabia. Antabel Tintagel era uma estranha figura com quem ela convivia e cujos actos observava com uma fria curiosidade, mas com a qual nunca chegara a sentir intimidade, nem nunca chegaria. Disso tinha a certeza absoluta.
Havia uma outra coisa que a deixava perplexa quanto à sua própria situação. Era actualmente, segundo tudo indicava, Annabel Tintagel, e tinha-o sido durante mais de dois anos, mas, antes disso, tinha sido Annabel St. George, e a figura de Annabel St. George, o seu rosto e a sua voz, os seus gostos e antipatias, as suas recordações e disposições tudo o que compunha a sua indistinta e pequena identidade, embora ainda existissem na nova Annabel, já não constituíam a Annabel central, aquele ser de que esta estranha e nova Annabel da sala dos Correggios de Longlands e do jardim privado da duquesa sentia fazer parte. Havia momentos em que a vã procura de si mesma se tornava tão desconcertante e desanimadora que lhe dava prazer escapar-se a ela através dos deveres mecânicos da sua nova vida. Mas, nos intervalos, continuava a procurar às apalpadelas, sem conseguir encontrar-se.

O crescimento de Nan, de certa forma equiparado ao da autora, sendo a força motriz da narrativa, obriga a uma estrutura rígida como os ditames do tempo em que ocorre, mas nem assim o trabalho de Wharton perde a sua força, e Jovens Rebeldes é, por isso mesmo, uma obra muitíssimo bem conseguida.

O nosso maior erro, - pensou, apoiando o queixo nas mãos cruzadas, com os olhos cegamente cravados nas distâncias do parque -, o nosso maior erro é pensar que sabemos sempre por que fazemos as coisas... Suponho que o mais próximo que podemos chegar é alcançar aquilo a que os mais velhos chamam experiência. Mas, quando a conseguimos, já não somos as pessoas que fizeram as coisas que já não entendemos. Suponho que o problema seja que nós mudamos a cada momento; e as coisas que fizemos permanecem.

Mais do que um romance sobre meninas de bem do Novo Mundo que gostam de pisar a corda, fumam, anseiam bons casamentos e casos amorosos, a última obra de Wharton é uma narrativa brilhante e fortemente crítica da instituição que é o casamento, do patriarcado (ainda que sob outros nomes), das normas burguesas e da moral vitoriana:

Seria possível que ele não conhecesse os seus direitos? Nos tempos da duquesa viúva, as obrigações de uma esposa - muito especialmente as da esposa de um duque - eram tão claras como os Dez Mandamentos. Tinha de dar ao seu marido pelo menos dois filhos varões, e se, no cumprimento deste dever, nascesse uma dúzia de filhas indesejadas, teria de as receber com os adequados sentimentos maternais e ocupar-se para que fossem devidamente agasalhadas e educadas A duquesa de Tintagel tinha-se considerado feliz por ter tido apenas oito filhas, mas tinha lamentado a inexorável decisão da Natureza de não lhe ter concedido um segundo filho.

Nem todas as corsárias desta história vingarão da mesma forma - há as que se submetem, as que se rebelam, as que pactuam com um sistema hipócrita que as liberta, embora não totalmente, o suficiente para que retirem da sua vida mais do que apenas um título, mas cada uma delas representa, de certa forma, uma faceta da autora: ora inocente, ora intrépida, ora inteligente, ora rebelde, mas sempre de uma agudeza de espírito impressionante:

Estou certa de que os meus erros passados não deveriam condenar-me a levar a vida de alguém que não é, e nunca será, verdadeiramente eu. Especialmente desde que aprendi tanta coisa com eles... com os meus erros, quero eu dizer. Aprendi que não posso viver uma mentira e que não quero ferir ninguém, mas, mais do que tudo, que não tenho medo de ser eu, nem de falar por mim.

Nota:Jovens Rebeldes é o último livro de Edith Wharton e não chega a ser concluído pela sua mão, sendo publicado postumamente, ainda nos anos 30, tal qual se encontra à data da morte da autora. Todavia, os anos 90 vêem publicada nova edição, desta feita com uma conclusão - que tem por base as notas da autora - por Marion Mainwaring. A presente edição (da extinta Europa-América) conta com uma conclusão de Angela Mckworth-Young e baseia-se na adaptação dos guiões de Maggie Wadey para a mini-série da BBC, em 1995.
Confuso? É bastante. E, talvez, desnecessário, já que esta conclusão (e, segundo crítica e leitores também as anteriores) não faz justiça a Edith Wharton antes oferecendo um final que, embora atando pontas soltas - como se esperaria - roça demasiado as margens da soap opera para soar credível. O certo é que o caráter vívido das personagens se esbate nos dois últimos livros, a narrativa perde claramente vigor, sentindo-se um esforço que lá não estava antes, e o seu final cor de rosa ignora o facto de Wharton ser, na sua forma, uma moralista. Infelizmente, não podendo recorrer à autora, qualquer conclusão que se lhe acrescente, não será o suficiente, mas o possível.

[Madeline · Rating 3 out of 5]

I found a copy of this book in a used bookstore, and hesitated before finally caving and buying it. I loved The Age of Innocence, but (as I learned from reading the book jacket while in the store) The Buccaneers is unfinished. Wharton wrote about 89,000 words of the story before dying in 1937, and Wharton scholar Marion Mainwaring picked up where the book left off and finished the novel. There's a note at the end about how Mainwaring made some changes to Wharton's draft to account for later changes in the story (and she also removed some hella racist language), but for the most part, the first two thirds of the book are primarily Wharton's. I don't like the idea of reading unfinished stories, and I can't decide what irks me more: an unfinished novel like Suite Francaise, which didn't have an ending because Irene Nemirovsky died before she could finish it; or The Buccaneers, where another author is brought in to complete the draft. Either way, it makes for a frustrating experience.

That being said, Mainwaring does a pretty good job of continuing Wharton's novel, to the point where I couldn't tell where Wharton's writing ended and Mainwaring's began. Maybe if I was a more experienced Wharton reader I would have noticed discrepancies, but as far as I was concerned, it was a solid story.

The story opens in 1876 New York, where "new money" sisters Virginia and Annebel St. George are preparing to find husbands. They find that they can't compete with the old money families of New York, and, after one of their friends marries an English lord who was visiting America, decide to follow her to England. Guided by their British governess, Laura Testvalley, the girls make their mark on the London social scene. Two more American sisters join the St. George girls, and their group becomes known as "the buccaneers," fortune-hunting Americans invading London to snatch up all the eligible lords and dukes. Each of the four American girls ends up marrying into the aristocracy, with varied success.

The story wasn't as tightly constructed or engrossing as The Age of Innocence, but I still loved reading Wharton's perspective on the shallowness and complexity of high society in the 1800's. She also makes it clear, without needing to slam it in your face, how much it sucked to be a woman in this world. The two most engrossing characters were Miss Testvalley, a confirmed spinster who's given up all hope of finding a husband and throws herself into the job of finding good marriages for her charges; and Annabel St. George, who ends up making the best marriage and is completely miserable. Her efforts to make the best of her circumstances, knowing that she's completely trapped in this life that she chose, were heartbreaking and beautiful.

"To begin with, what had caused Annabel St. George to turn into Annabel Tintagel? That was the central problem! Yet how could she solve it, when she could no longer question that elusive Annabel St. George, who was still so near to her, yet as remote and unapproachable as a plaintive ghost?
Yes - a ghost. That was it. Annabel St. George was dead, and would therefore never be able to find out why and how that mysterious change had come about. ...
'The greatest mistake,' she mused, her chin resting on her clasped hands, her eyes fixed unseeingly on the dim reaches of the park, 'the greatest mistake is to think that we ever know why we do things. ...I suppose the nearest we can ever come to it is by getting what old people call "experience." But by the time we've got that we
re no longer the person who did the things we no longer understand. The trouble is, I suppose, that we change every moment; and the things we did stay."

[Ellery Adams · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a fascinating look at the effects of British lords marrying rich Americans to finance their crumbling estates (as in Downtown Abbey). The American ladies chafe at the bit of British rules, and their love stories seem doomed from the start. However, this is more a tale of sisterhood than romance, and the sharp characterization reminded me of why I love Wharton so much. Like Virginia Woolf, she wrote with a feminist slant and dared to raise subjects few female authors of her time would take on.

[Issicratea · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have read most of Edith Wharton’s novels, but not The Buccaneers, perhaps because of an unconscious—and rather unsophisticated, when I think about it—distaste for unfinished works of fiction. (Stevenson’s wonderful Weir of Hermiston recently cured me of that.)

The Buccaneers was Wharton’s last novel, left unfinished at her death in 1937. Curiously, it was completed by a Wharton biographer and novelist, Marion Mainwaring, in 1993 (more on that later), so you can now read it “whole.”

One issue about publishing work left unfinished by the author—I remember much discussion of this with Italo Calvino—is that books may be published that would never have made it through a writer’s rigorous quality controls. I felt that a little reading The Buccaneers, which is not a bad novel at all (at least the portion written by Wharton), but which didn’t seem to me to be up to Wharton’s usual meticulous standard of finish. I recently read her short story, “Roman Fever,” and I was very struck by her Austen-like minimalism and formal control. The Buccaneers is much looser and more diffuse.

In terms of themes, the novel is in the Jamesian vein of “New World meets Old.” Specifically, it explores the social comedy, and tragedy, resulting from five feisty, new money, New York heiresses hitting London and snaffling up husbands, in the form of a series of titled chinless wonders. It seems a strangely belated subject to be writing about in the 1930s, and Wharton here shows little of the relentless incisiveness she did examining similar themes in The Custom of the Country (1913). It has the feel of a nostalgia piece, almost Downton Abbey at points (the TV series, not the superb Altman film). Although that’s perhaps a little unfair—there’s a nice, show stealing Wilkie Collins-like governess figure, Laura Testvalley, aka Testavaglia, daughter of a line of Italian revolutionaries, who rather lit up the novel for me in every scene she was in.

As for Marion Mainwaring’s continuation...probably the less said the better. All it demonstrates is how much stronger even a lesser work by a great writer is than the best effort of a well-meaning but misguided hack. It’s crude, crass, and gushing. The Buccaneers would have been much better served by being left as an intriguing, if crumbling ruin.

[Avery Liz Holland · Rating 5 out of 5]

Le americane

Sono cinque: l'insolita Conchita Closson, brasiliana dalla pelle ambrata, con i capelli rossi e gli occhi di acquamarina; la bellissima Virginia St George, detta Jinny, e sua sorella minore Annabel, detta Nan, curiosa e intelligente; Lizzy Elmsworth, appena meno bella di Jinny, ma dotata di un fascino particolare, e sua sorella Mabel, il brutto anatroccolo del gruppo. Sono giovani americane appartenenti alla categoria dei nuovi ricchi che, respinte dalla vecchia "aristocrazia" newyorkese per le loro origini umili, sbarcano in Inghilterra in cerca di matrimoni vantaggiosi. L'obiettivo sono i nobili spiantati e bisognosi di denaro per conservare uno stile di vita che non possono più permettersi. Come pirati all'assalto, come i bucanieri olandesi e francesi di due secoli prima che razziavano le coste americane, le cinque signorine sono le apripista di una nuova rotta, inversa a quella dei veri bucanieri, che sarà percorsa, tra le altre, dalla celebre Consuelo Vanderbilt, futura duchessa di Marlborough. Sarebbe più corretto, forse, se la traduzione italiana del titolo fosse Bucaniere.
Mentre Jinny, Conchita, Lizzy e Mabel si lasciano sedurre dall'aspetto mondano e aristocratico della vita inglese, Nan, la più giovane, dotata di un animo sensibile e romantico, subisce invece il fascino della storia, dell'arte e del ricco passato della nazione. Grazie anche alla vicinanza che si stabilisce tra lei e Laura Testvalley, la governante inglese emigrata in America in cerca di datori di lavoro più generosi, Nan non è a caccia di un titolo da sposare, ma cade vittima dell'incantesimo delle antiche dimore piene di arte, sostenute da secoli di storia e antenati che ne costituiscono le fondamenta, e che accendono i suoi sogni a occhi aperti. Proprio a causa del suo spirito sentimentale, ingenuo e romantico si ritrova intrappolata in un matrimonio aristocratico con conseguenze imprevedibili.
È l'ultimo romanzo dell'autrice, rimasto incompiuto a causa della sua morte improvvisa e terminato solo nel 1993 da Marion Mainwaring seguendo scrupolosamente la sinossi lasciata da Edith Wharton. Pare che l'autrice, arrivata a pochi capitoli dalla fine, invece di andare avanti si sia fermata per un po', dedicandosi a riscrivere e correggere, come se qualcosa non la convincesse e non riuscisse a indirizzarsi serenamente verso la conclusione. Nonostante le apparenti difficoltà compositive, quella di Bucanieri è una Wharton in stato di grazia, una penna sofisticata, sicura, pungente, ironica, elegante come poche. Se anche lo stacco tra la mano di Wharton e quella di Mainwaring non fosse segnalato, sarebbe molto facile individuarlo: Mainwaring ha fatto un buon lavoro, cercando di imitare il più possibile la tecnica di Wharton, ma il confronto è impietoso, come risvegliarsi da un piacevolissimo sonno con uno schiaffo.
Più che la storia di questo o quel personaggio, Bucanieri racconta uno scontro culturale tra due civiltà molto distanti tra loro, nonostante il legame storico che le unisce. "Le americane" affascinano i giovani nobili d'oltremare con le loro maniere vivaci e spigliate, ben diverse da quelle delle rigide signorine inglesi, ma non riescono a capire la differenza tra un conte e un marchese e le infinite, misteriose regole su cui poggia un sistema millenario, come la differenza nello scrivere un biglietto a un vescovo o a un membro della famiglia reale.
Dal canto suo, l'alta società inglese è costretta a fare buon viso a cattivo gioco, ma è sconcertata da quella che definisce "la volgarità" delle bellezze americane e dalla confusione derivante dalla mancanza di titoli e distinzioni nella società newyorkese: tutti "signore" e "signora", tutti uguali! Impossibile distinguerli l'uno dall'altro!
Mentre la sorella maggiore e le amiche di Nan si adattano di buon grado alle difficoltà e alle stranezze del nuovo contesto socioculturale, gli occhi ben puntati sulla preda come durante una caccia alla volpe, Nan vive una dolorosa lacerazione tra i propri bisogni personali, quel desiderio di intima e profonda comunicazione che è destinata a non avere con suo marito, e il ruolo che è costretta a interpretare e che le calza male quanto un paio di scarpe troppo strette. Il suo è il dramma moderno e avvincente di una giovane donna che non cerca l'amore, ma sé stessa e il suo posto nel mondo, il vero senso della sua esistenza.



« […] l’errore più grande è credere di sapere perché facciamo le cose… Suppongo che il massimo a cui possiamo aspirare sia quello che i vecchi chiamano “esperienza”. Ma nel frattempo abbiamo realizzato che non siamo più le persone che hanno fatto cose che ci sono ormai incomprensibili. Il guaio è, suppongo, che si cambia ogni momento; e le cose che facciamo invece rimangono.»

[Elizabeth · Rating 4 out of 5]

Must ponder! And chat with Susan and Jen!

[emma · Rating 3 out of 5]

i just wonder what this would have been like had edith wharton been able to complete it. whilst semi-good, the novel missed her magic touch throughout entirely. while it did not wow like her other work, it was a pleasant read. definitely a must if you want to read her work to completion but not a must if you have not read her other (magnificent) work first.

[Misfit · Rating 4 out of 5]

The St. George and Elmsworth families are *new money* and looking for brighter prospects for their daughters in the marriage market so they hie off to England looking for Dukes and Earl with aging homes in need repairs that only cold hard cash can bring them. The young ladies make their splash, make their marriages and then no surprise, have to lie in those beds that they've made for themselves. Some are successful, others not so - despite a very promising beginning.

"But it's rather lonely sometimes, when the only things that seem real are one's dreams."

I really did enjoy this a lot, and Wharton excels as always at her descriptions of society's quirks and restrictions. This was Wharton's last novel, which was finished off by Marion Mainwaring based on plot outlines left by Wharton. I definitely noticed a difference towards the end where MM stepped in to finish, and like other reviews some of the first 2/3 don't have quite the polished feel of Wharton's earlier work. Still, fans of Wharton and this topic (American heiresses in London) should definitely give this one a go. Just don't expect The Age of Innocence or The House of Mirth.

[Fran Hawthorne · Rating 3 out of 5]

How can I give Edith Wharton only 3 stars?
Well, it's an interesting comparison, reading Wharton's last novel "The Buccaneers" so soon after reading another classic of class and marriage, set largely in England, by another 19th century-ish woman writer--Jane Austen's first published novel, "Sense and Sensibility." The comparison does Wharton no favors.
Though Austen was more of a novice at the craft with her book, and her geographic universe is much more limited, her range of characters and depth of characterization are far wider.

(In fairness, Wharton personally wrote only about 3/4 of this novel, and even that wasn't a polished draft; the rest was finished after her death, following a sketchy synopsis she'd laid out. More on that later.)

So, "The Buccaneers":
A bevy of lovely young Gilded Age debutantes in New York--whose families aren't quite blue-blood or wealthy enough to be invited to the top balls -- cross the Atlantic to see if they can find husbands, fortunes, and possibly noble titles more easily in England. The answer to that specific quest is yes. But happiness is harder to come by. It seems that their wealthy/titled husbands are boring, cheating, spendthrift, or some combination. (The happiest is the bride who marries a mere member of Parliament, not a member of the nobility.)

So, a combination of Henry James and Jane Austen, but with less spice.
The social commentary in "Buccaneers" is too obvious and superficial. The Brits' ignorance of American culture gets tiring. (Then again, Wharton was such a notorious racist and anti-Semite--thanks to her upper-class roots -- that she probably thought the racism was clever; the editors deliberately toned down her language in this version.)

Could I tell the difference between the Wharton and non-Wharton sections? The writing was Whartonesque. yet both the language and the plotting were less elegant in that final quarter.
To give one small yet annoying example: There's a memory of the childhood relationship between the sisters Jinny and Nan that's starkly different from everything that had come earlier.

(SPOILER ALERT: The drawn-out ending was way too sentimental for Wharton.) END OF SPOILER ALERT

But maybe all this criticism is only because I knew it wasn't Wharton's own work? And-- as I mull it over further -- maybe I've been misreading the novel? Keep an eye on the governess. She's Wharton's stand-in. Her explanation for why she let Nan marry the Duke is flimsy. But that ending...???

This is the fourth Wharton novel that I've read, and for me, "The Age of Innocence" remains her masterpiece.

[Ruby Grad · Rating 5 out of 5]

Having seen the BBC production, I can honestly say I liked the book so much better, and that it was a strong 5 stars for me. This is the last book Edith Wharton wrote before she died in 1938, and it was finished according to her detailed outline and republished in 1993. The story is centered around five rich American young women, four of whom end up marrying into British society when they find their prospects limited in the United States. The main character is Annabel. When we meet her, she is 16 and her mother has just hired a British governess for her. That is to become one of the most important relationships in her life. We also get to know Virginia (Jinny), her older sister, Lizzy Elmsworth and her younger sister Mabel, their friends, and Conchita Closson, their fascinating friend. One summer, they meet Sir Richard Marable, the third son of a Marquess, who is smitten with and then marries Conchita. When it becomes clear that, because they are not of the traditionally monied class, but, instead, of the new, Wall St., monied class, the prospects of the remaining friends to enter society are limited, they travel to Britain to visit Conchita. Virginia ends up marrying into the same family. Annabel also ends up marrying, but even "higher," to Duke Tintagel, but the marriage goes badly. Lizzy ends up marrying an up-and-coming member of Parliament, and Mabel eventually marries one of the richest men in America. Eventually, Annabel discovers her true love, and we are treated to a description of British aristocracy manners and mores in the 1870's.

Wharton creates engaging characters and writes with great descriptiveness that keeps the story lines moving. She is an astute student of human nature. It was hard to put this book down.

[Jenni · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wharton's The Buccaneers is a delightful story about a group of five young ladies looking for high society status and suitable husbands. I wish my daily struggle were that of status and finding a suitable husband, but alas, I digress. From New York to England, watching as they rise through the ranks and the price they are willing to pay or not. The Buccaneers connive and play their way to the top, only for some to find misery in the making. Mainwaring did an excellent job of finishing this tale many years after Wharton's death.

[Brian Poole · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Buccaneers proved to be an interesting bookend for the career of Edith Wharton.

Wharton had completed about two-thirds of The Buccaneers when she died in 1937. For decades, it appeared in “unfinished” form. But in the early ‘90s, Wharton expert Marion Mainwaring completed the book, based on Wharton’s own high level synopsis.

The Buccaneers proved to be an apt companion piece to Wharton’s most famous novel, The Age of Innocence. Set in the same time period, it focused on a group of “new money” girls who found themselves denied entry to the upper reaches of New York society. Instead, they crossed the Atlantic, where London found their brash charms a breath of fresh air. Marriage to a variety of nobles ensued.

Wharton’s idea was fairly genius. Dramatizing how a group kept out of “old” society in one country prospered by being the new blood that an even older social set in another cried out for provided an interesting extrapolation of themes the writer had explored in numerous of her works. The Buccaneers still was a drama of manners. The Americans faced differing levels of success in navigating the labyrinth of customs and expectations of Upper Class Brits. But unlike other novels where the newcomers were kept out, here they succeeded brilliantly. Fans of Downton Abbey may recognize the concept of a rich American becoming the wife of a British noble.

At its core, The Buccaneers was about the complicated romance of Nan St. George and Guy Thwarte. A brief encounter established a seed of sympathy between the duo. But Guy was obliged to go abroad and make the money needed to keep his family’s estate afloat. Nan entered an ill-advised marriage to a colorless Duke who couldn’t appreciate her unique sensibilities. The feelings that spark between Nan and Guy when they re-enter one another’s lives drive the drama of the final act.

In many ways, The Buccaneers is atypical of Wharton’s plots. For one, the star-crossed couple got that rarest of Wharton rewards: a happy ending. The duo transcended the blight on their reputations and ran off together. Prior Wharton heroines had only a life or regret and loss (or, occasionally, poverty-stricken death) as reward for their impulsive actions and questionable decisions. Nan got to be with the man she loved, even if the scandal produced would blow back on her family.

Nan also had something few Wharton heroines had: a sympathetic friend and advisor who cared more about Nan’s happiness than bowing to propriety. Nan’s governess, Laura Tetsvalley (daughter of an expat Italian family), filled the maternal role for Nan more capably than Nan’s own fairly useless mother. Laura made mistakes of her own along the way, but eventually elected to bear the brunt of Nan’s scandal on her own shoulders, allowing her former pupil to escape a life that made her unhappy.

The Buccaneers also is notable for how sympathetic its putative villains are. Ushant, the colorless Duke, set a lot of the unhappiness in motion. He married Nan not because he particularly valued her, but because he found her ignorance of his station appealing and thought he could mold her into an ideal wife. While that doesn’t value Nan’s virtues, it’s also not exactly hissable. The Duke was a product of his upbringing and only wanted his wife to learn her role and help perpetuate his line. But the story made clear that, while not warm, he wasn’t a bad person. The rules of British society at the time gave him the right to force his will on Nan, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do that. Given that his wife left him after telling him she was in love with someone else, the fact that he tried to end the union in as quiet a manner as possible is rather commendable.

The Dowager Duchess was also a source of antagonism for Nan. But the writing does a good job of demonstrating that she was motivated by her sense of duty, to her son, his position and their family. You may not like her, but she’s understandable. Even a spoiled noblewoman who launched an unfounded scandal about Nan out of a fit of pique was more pathetic than evil.

Some of those differences might be attributed to Mainwaring. And yet she channels Wharton’s style almost seamlessly. And the plot developments were based on Wharton’s own plans for The Buccaneers. Mainwaring blends into Wharton’s work quite well. A reader could believe the finished book is the product of one voice.

For fans of Wharton’s more famous books, The Buccaneers is a thematic variation worth checking out.

A version of this review originally appeared on www.thunderalleybcp.com

[Susan · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Buccaneers is a romantic anti-romance novel, if that makes any sense. Five young American daughters of fortunate financial speculators, finding themselves excluded from the crustiest New York society, begin to marry into an extended family of English nobility. As attractive as marrying into the top tier of society initially seems, navigating their responsibilities to ancestral mansions, families and tenants brings unhappiness, particularly for the youngest, Nan, who has married a duke who wanted a bride he could mold. Nan realizes that she’s made a mistake in marrying the duke, but there is no way for her to return to her schooldays, and pursing her true love will be disastrous.

This story could be completely depressing (typical for Edith Wharton) if it weren’t for the fun of comparing it to the real-life drama of the Churchill family’s American heiress brides. I listened to The Churchills: In Love and War back in February and March, and it’s clear that Wharton borrowed liberally from the sensational memoirs released by Consuelo Vanderbilt (married to the Duke of Marlborough) and Jenny Jerome Churchill (mother of Sir Winston Churchill). The result is that the book feels a little smutty, the way that reading a tabloid might.

If you don’t know anything about the disappointing fairy-tale marriages Wharton is referencing, I wouldn’t recommend this as a particularly fun or interesting read. Not that it was bad, exactly. It was just uneven. The depictions of the mothers in New York are from a comedy-of-manners, and the ruminations of Sad Nan come from a melodrama. Nan’s sister and friends basically disappear from the book halfway through, when it appeared from the beginning that they would have slightly larger roles. Wharton died before completing a first draft, so it’s possible that there would have been substantial editing. As it is, Marian Mainwaring made it a mostly cohesive story focused on Nan’s reclaiming her own identity.

[Elizabeth (Alaska) · Rating 4 out of 5]

This seemed a bit lighter than others by Wharton that I've read. Perhaps that is because this was her last novel, and unfinished. She didn't live to revise, and I think this simply her first draft. It was completed by another author. Mainwaring did a good job of this as the transition was seamless, and it wasn't until I'd read the last page that I knew where Wharton left off and Mainwaring began.

That said, the ending is weaker than what I might expect from Wharton. As with other authors I've come to love, Wharton's endings tend toward the sadly ironic. I wasn't as invested in the character to whom that applies.

Even with that criticism, I thoroughly enjoyed this. I enjoyed it despite the fact that the synopsis on the back cover of this edition has a huge spoiler. However, an author only has one best novel, and, of course, for Wharton that is The Age of Innocence. She has some others that are close seconds, and this falls below them. A liberal 4-stars from me, but it probably sits toward the bottom of that group.

[Elaine · Rating 3 out of 5]

I didn’t listen to the version with a “completed” ending - so I only got as far as Wharton did, with only her plot outline to guide us for where we might go next. I like to think that if Wharton had completed the book, she would have gone back and revised her draft to make it tighter and less pedestrian. But as it is, we get a lot of characters but a shortage of the searing insight into human foibles (especially those touching on class, marriage and propriety) and lapidary writing that characterizes Wharton’s finished novels. None of the humor and sarcasm of custom of the country, none of the heart break of House of mirth. As I said, I’d like to believe she would’ve fixed all that in revisions.

As it is, I’d still rather listen to this than someone else’s adaptation. But not entirely satisfying for even a passionate Wharton fan.

[Lobstergirl · Rating 4 out of 5]

It's the 1870s, and the daughters of New York City's nouveau riche are being scorned by their social superiors. They are forced to vacation at Saratoga because they haven't gotten invitations to Newport. A clueless father humiliates his family by ensconcing them in a house on shlubby Madison Avenue rather than chic Fifth. Rejected at home, the four daughters set out for England to snare them some aristocratic husbands. They are the buccaneers.

Four stars for the portion Wharton wrote, which co-author Marion Mainwaring tells us is about 89,000 words. One star for the concluding chapters, written by Mainwaring. It just goes to show: Wharton is really, really difficult to copy, in every way: plotting, tone, style, idiom. Mainwaring's addendum was dull and clunky, like so much of random historical fiction. I don't know where the 89,000 word division came in the text, yet there was a point where I suddenly noticed that the Wharton magic was gone. Not coincidentally, it was accompanied by the types of romantic interactions between characters that Wharton would only hint at, but a modern writer would spell out for you.

I want to get hold of the 1938 edition, which doesn't contain Mainwaring's concluding chapters, and also contains the racial language Mainwaring removed for fear it would offend modern readers. The 1993 text is full of words like brown, and dusky, and someone sends a telegram inquiring about her future daughter-in-law: "Is she black?"

The bowdlerization left a bad taste in my mouth. Fear of offending should never cause words to be changed or passages to be excised.

Jottings:
I'm a little alarmed. Yes, another author finished this uncompleted work by Wharton. But it would be nice to see where Wharton's work ends and Mainwaring's begins. Also, the text is bowdlerized: some nasty racial language has apparently been removed. Now I'm going to have to read the 1938 edition to find out what Wharton really wrote. Finally, there is no attribution of the cover art. Big no-no! It's the Acheson Sisters, by John Singer Sargent, hanging at Chatsworth House.

[Jessica · Rating 4 out of 5]

Books like this are so very difficult to review. I felt so deeply for Nan and I could understand how she felt and what she thought. Indeed, I could relate to her very well as her thinking process is similiar to mine.

My problem with the book is that in the end she makes a choice. When you read it it seems like a good choice. You want her to live and love. You want her to live happily ever after, to be with the man that she is passionately in love with.

And in most stories that would be wonderful. But in this story there is a slight problem.

She's already married.

The writing style is engaging, the plot is well-developed and fascinating (I finished it in two days.), and you love some characters and hate others. But somehow at the end of the book, despite being relieved that she will live happily ever after, you feel a slight tinge of guilt associated with that relief.

I hate reading books like this because I'm a romantic at heart and deep down inside I know that if I finished the book and she didn't end up with the man that she loved I would be furious. I love books where the girl and the guy come together in the end. When they're in love and live happily ever after. That's why books like this are so difficult for me...because sometimes what's right isn't what's "romantic". And I want love to prevail in the end.

Nan did what was right "romantically" but did she do the right thing "morally"?

Questions like that are bound to surface after finishing Edith Wharton's "The Buccaneers."

[Shiloah · Rating 3 out of 5]

Edith Wharton is an excellent writer. I felt compelled to keep reading. However, I feel that this story is "broken" which is good is good and evil is evil but evil wins. This is the second Edith Wharton book (The other book being The Age of Innocence) where I couldn’t identify with the protagonist. I’ve decided it’s because Edith Wharton doesn’t seem to have a Christian moral value system coming across in her books. She does a good job keeping up with the Modern value system of the times, but I am disappointed when there is no valuable life lesson learned.

[RunRachelRun · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oh my God, if someone could resurrect the dead and had enough magic potion for one person, I would choose Madame Wharton. It devastates me that even if I visit the "W" shelf at the library a million times over, as if I were a pilgrim visiting a holy shrine, on my bleeding and torn knees, there will never be a new Wharton book propped there for me to read for the very first time. I guess I should be grateful that there are authors out there who inspire such devotion, dead or otherwise.

[skein · Rating 2 out of 5]

I hardly feel this book can be classified as an Edith Wharton -- she died before it was completed, and apparently even before it was fleshed out. The complete-r, one Marion Mainwaring (writing in 1993), stews the final chapters with injudicious parentheses, romance-novel prose (Nan is "a flower unfolding ... a rose in bloom") and exclamation points galore. God help us all.

[Diana Long · Rating 4 out of 5]

When I bought this book I thought it must have something to do with pirates....even seeing the group of ladies on the cover didn't dissuade me. Well, I was soon dispelled of that thought starting to read. It was a sign of the times during the era it was written about that young ladies that couldn't get into New York society had a better chance of getting a marriage match to some aristocrat in Europe and if the gander doesn't go geese then the geese should go to the gander.
This work was left unfinished when the author passed on, but she did leave a synopsis which appears at the end of the book. This edition also has some color photographs included of a Masterpiece Theatre adaption and list of the players in the film.

[Nancy Oakes · Rating 4 out of 5]

After reading The House of Mirth I was so depressed that I promised myself I'd never read another book by Edith Wharton, but this one turned out differently (thank god) and I couldn't put it down.

more soon but for now, it was a solidly good read.

[Classic reverie · Rating 5 out of 5]

An unfinished work finished with class.

I was wondering how this unfinished novel of Wharton would read with a modern writer taking up the task & I was pleased with it but kept wondering how Edith would have ended it. I loved this story & found the governess a memorable character not soon to be forgotten. The Buccaneers is an unfinished work by Edith Wharton (1862-1937) which was published as that in 1938 by her publisher. That version is not at this time available on Kindle but I would be interested in knowing how many changes were made until the XXIX. Wharton had written 89,000 words & the rest was finished by a Wharton scholar Marion Mainwaring in 1993 & soon after a TV mini series was produced from this book. I noticed a different ending feel than the past Wharton novels I have read but I have not read them all yet. I was very happy with this ending but due to the controversy from many who thought Wharton would have ended it differently. In 1995, Angela Mackworth- Young finished it with a different ending, and this is not available on Kindle either. Wharton wanted to write a book about the Gilded age of marriages between wealthy American heiresses & English nobility which at that time labeled as Buccaneers. In New York society many of the young girls were in a group labeled The Buccaneers. There are resemblances to Consuelo, Duchess of Marlborough, Lady Randolph Churchill & Consuelo Montagu, Duchess of Manchester. I had heard that Winston Churchill had ties to America but it was interesting to find out that his mother was born in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn -Jeanette Jerome -aka - Lady Randolph Churchill. The story tells of the match making, marrying for title & money. The differences in American & English women of the time & of both societies.The story tells of five girls & their mothers after having no success in finding husbands for their daughters in high society & lacking invitations to higher events given by more prominent families decide to do a "London season". In hope they might have better luck. Virginia, Lizzy, Mabel & Nan visit a American friend, Conchita recently wed to a nobelman. Excerpts- "Ushant must have two sons- three, if possible. But his wife doesn't seem to understand her duties. Yet she has only to look into the prayer-book ...But I've never been able to find out to what denomination her family belongs.""The greatest mistake," she mused, her chin resting on her clasped hands, her eyes fixed unseeingly on the dim reaches of the park, "the greatest mistake is to think that we ever know why we do things...I suppose the nearest we can ever come to it is by getting what old people call 'experience'.

[Dawn · Rating 5 out of 5]

The synopsis for this 1938 edition for The Buccaneers (appearing above) is completely wrong! Who wrote that?! No swashbuckling pirates, here! Edith Wharton's "novel" was published as a lightly edited, incomplete manuscript in the year following her death. It was sure to have been her masterpiece!
The "Buccaneers" are 5 nouveau riche American girls who, steered by an English-Italian (cousin to artist/poet D.G. Rosetti) governess, "invade" the Bristish peerage in the 'seventies (1870's).
While later editions append with an ending written by a Wharton scholar, I am charmed that my local libray is still circulating this original 1938 edition! There is no ending; it's a cliffhanger prematurely left off amidst a failing marriage and budding romance. So why 5 stars??
The writing is superb. The British landscape is beautifully elaborated, in watercolor tones. The subject is fascinating: courtships spanning the improbable social/cultural divide between American upstarts and British aristocrats. And then there's the novelty of reading an unfinished work. The editor insists that Ms. Wharton was not finished developing several of her characters. The contrast between her well-developed characters and the more-transparent ones helps a modern reader appreciate qualities of "classic" literature. I universally recommend this forgotten masterpiece. I'm still deciding if I'll read the "finished" edition, as this one was surprisingly satisfying even in it's incompletion.

[Galileosong · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have mixed feelings about this book. Edith Wharton is exceptionally skilled in describing interactions with people. She could write about the most boring subjects and still keep you enchanted with her writing.

The story in itself is not that thrilling or exciting, but I could not put the book down because of of how well it was written. However, near the last third of the book, completed by a different author, this changes. Gone are the beautiful descriptions and the story turns into some kind of farcical soap opera. A kiss that should have filled me with emotion didn't resonate with me at all. It lacked that Wharton touch.

Compare that to the beginning of the book where just a description of the interaction between Mr. and Mrs. St. George did so much to describe their relationship: "He laid his hand on his wife's graying blond hair, and brushed her care-worn forehead with the tip of his moustache - a ritual gesture which convinced him that he had kissed her and Mrs St. George that she had been kissed."

Wharton's work is 4 stars. Mainwaring's work is 2 stars.