Belchamber

by Howard Overing Sturgis, Howard Sturgis, Edmund White (Introduction)

Charles Edwin William Augustus Chambers—Marquis and Earl of Belchamber, Viscount Charmington, and Baron St. Edmunds and Chambers—known familiarly as Sainty, is the scion of an ancient English aristocratic family. Behind him stretches a rogues’ gallery of picturesque upper-crust scoundrels. But he is uninterested in riding to hounds or drinking or whoring in the great tradition of his forebears, and though he admires his tough-minded puritanical Scottish mother, he lacks her unrelenting moral self-assurance. Sainty is instead a sensitive soul, physically delicate, sexually timid, intellectually inclined, utterly honest, and thoroughly decent, but constitutionally incapable of asserting himself. When it comes to assuming the responsibilities of his inheritance, to managing his feckless younger brother Albert or fathoming his sly cousin Clyde, and, above all, to the essential business of marrying and continuing the family line, Sainty hasn’t a prayer.

Genres: Fiction, Classics, British Literature, LGBT, Literature, Novels, Literary Fiction

345 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1904

About the author

Howard Overing Sturgis is also widely known as Howard Sturgis or, especially in german speaking Countries, as Howard O. Sturgis.

He was the youngest son of a rich American living in England. Even as a child, he met Henry Adams, William Makepeace Thackeray and Henry James. Henry James became a friend and mentor of Sturgis. He studied in Eton and Cambridge. After his parents went by, he bought a country house near Eton. There he and his lover William Haynes-Smith frequently entertained their friends, including Henry James, Edith Wharton and George Santayana.

Sturgis is the author of three novels:
• Tim. A Story of School Life (1891)
• All That Was Possible (1895)
• Belchamber (1904).
Tim and Belchamber are gay themed.

After Belchamber has failed he only published one short story (On the Pottlecombe Cornice) in 1908 and ended his career.

Reviews

[Sketchbook · Rating 3 out of 5]

This dramedy of manners gave Henry James high vex. I understand. Mr James was in a snit with the author, a close friend, because the central figure, anti-hero "Sainty," nearing 30 and a virgin, was "all passivity and nullity."

Sainty, the little pisspot, is a spineless booby, a donkey, a nincompoopy, a goody-goody, a moaner and a bore. King Henry objected. Has he not one quality that can delight us? Nope. He told this to author Sturgis (1904) who never wrote again. Mr James might have tempered his crit, but then I wasn't there to hear or read exactly what was said.

Heir to pre-WW1 zillions and the grandest, stateliest home of England -- you could get lost in the Jacobean structure or on its thousands of undulating acres -- Sainty, raised by a bullying, Calvinist widow, has the cards stacked against him by Sturgis. Why, I wonder. What's going on? ~~ All we really know is that Sainty doesn't like to hunt or gallop on horseback. He's an indoorsy kid. Oops. He plops off his horsey and limps for the rest of the book, though Sturgis pays this no mind. Neither should you. It's a feeble plot device.

His younger brother Arthur falls for a chorus girl and disappears for pages while Sainty (even the nick-name gives me vex) is pushed by mum into a loveless marriage with a chilly aristo bitch who asserts : No frottage, no kissing. I find you repulsive, but I love your money. ~~ Sexless Sainty mewls, meows -- and melts. Stiff upper-lip, yew know, this is EngluNd. Perhaps he needs to be slapped with a stiff dick.

This Hollywood hokum dribbles on and on with some excellent writing that sticks, for Sturgis wanted to impress James, and Hollywood hack plotting ("I curse him!" shrieks Lady Charmington, Sainty's mum, learning that Arthur has secretly married the chorus girl. O, where's Dame Maggie Smith ?)

It's all tew, tew awful and tew, tew marvelous.

Sturgis, at best, offers documentary "social" scenes and satiric comment on the ruling classes, 1900. Sainty's 21st birthday party with 500 guests swarming the stately home and its grounds is an event of memorable excess. Sainty, of course, faints and, surely, wets his pants. That's his Coming Out.

Hired gun Edmund White writes the NYRB Intro. When it comes to insight, White fires blanks.

[Lobstergirl · Rating 4 out of 5]

Howard Sturgis was a wealthy man who didn't need to earn a living, and so wrote novels. His large social circle included Edith Wharton and Henry James, whom he entertained at his English country house, Queen's Acre, where he lived with his male lover and dog Misery and could be found with a shawl over his legs, knitting and doing embroidery. (His cousin, George Santayana, described him as "a perfect young lady of the Victorian type.") Sturgis's lover, William Haynes-Smith, was "a man's man" (according to Edmund White's introduction). He moved a wife into Queen's Acre upon inheriting it after Sturgis's death.

That fact is quite interesting, given some of the events that happen in Belchamber. The novel's protagonist, Sainty, is also an effeminate, bookish aristocrat with a big heart, who loves to cross-stitch. He lives with his mother and good-looking, athletic younger brother at the family estate of Belchamber. A hip injury after being thrown from a horse makes him lame, which he greets with relief: now he won't have to go to Eton and play sports. Sainty's burden, which he feels as keenly as an albatross around his neck, is that he is the first son, rather than the second: he will inherit Belchamber, it will be his responsibility to produce an heir. If only he were the second son, he could join the clergy and remain happily celibate. It will be obvious to modern readers that Sainty is homosexual, but this goes unacknowledged by anyone, including Sainty, in the novel. He is, rather, completely asexual. When he bewilderingly marries a beautiful but grasping young woman of his acquaintance, we wonder where it will go. The answer: nowhere good.

The novel was not well received by critics when it was published in 1904, and remains obscure, which should be remedied. It's a fun read, although often exasperating because of Sainty's passivity, and gives off whiffs of Austen crossed with Forster, lite.

[El · Rating 3 out of 5]

If Edith Wharton and Henry James had ever had sex together (or if Henry James ever had sex, period), their love-child might have been Howard Sturgis. In reality, however, Wharton and James never did the nasty, and Sturgis was actually a friend and peer of them both.

This is the story of Sainty Chambers, a noble and aristocrat, who is more interested in knitting than drinking and dislikes sports, unlike his ancestors. He is, in other words, too sensitive for his own good. This is most apparently when he marries Cissy, a rather flirtatious young woman and seemingly Sainty's polar opposite.

Not quite as exciting a read as one of Wharton's high society novels, but not as boring as James's either. Sturgis wrote of scandal in a noble family with heart, but his characters lacked something, some oompf. Still, any friend of Edith's is a friend of mine.

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thought this was fantastic.

I remember something from a Mishima - I can't find it now - about courtesy without any violence being displeasing and much less acceptable even than violence without any courtesy. The Marquis of Belchamber - known as Sainty - is all courtesy. Effeminate and delicate, he's often wondering why no one loves him for always doing exactly what he's told and for not doing those unmanly things he enjoys, such as needlework.

Arthur, the younger brother, is all violence. Handsome and dashing, he torments governesses, rides hard, gambles, and seduces actresses. He doesn't care what anyone thinks and everyone loves him for it. Until he goes too far. But, of course, he hardly cares and it's Belchamber that suffers for his brother's excesses.

Claude, the poor cousin, is the happy compromise. But ... well ... too many spoilers. Read it!

Bits I liked:
"To be in harmony with one's environment, to like the things one ought to like – that surely is the supreme good."

"Poor Sainty could not be comforted. To be sure, no one tried much to comfort him."

"'I should like to go to One-tree Wood, and get primroses,' Sainty answered, after the usual slight struggle that it always cost him to express a wish or an opinion."

"Lady Charmington had come home sooner than she expected, and was taking off her hat when she saw Arthur come galloping across the park alone. She looked with pride at the boy, thinking how well he sat his pony; and she gave a little sigh at the half-formed thought that just crossed her mind, 'What a pity he wasn't the elder!' The next minute her heart stood still; she had caught sight in the far distance of a speck, which as it drew nearer she recognised with sickening terror as Sainty's pony, riderless, and with his saddle turned under his belly. 'Not that way, my God! I did not mean that.'"

"'You were a little rash, dear mamma,' Claude said to her afterwards, 'in remembering your happy childhood at Belchamber so well, unless you took a little trouble to get up on the subject.' Claude, for his part, was quite willing to got to Eton and try how he liked it. Almost the only principle that had been early instilled into him was that it was always worth while to accept anything expensive that could be enjoyed at another person's expense."

"Sainty went to college, as he did most things, from the habit of obedience, but with no great hope of personal enjoyment … He looked on Cambridge as a larger Eton, a new field for unpopularity and isolation in the midst of a crowd,"

"'I ask myself, my dear Saint, how on earth all the young men I see about, smiling and spruce, contrive to live in this wicked and costly place. They can't all be millionaires.'"

"It is no doubt a very bad thing to be in want of money, but it is almost worse to be the quarry at which the impecunious let fly their shafts; to know when you see a beloved handwriting on an envelope that it is hunger and not love that has set the pen travelling, and dictated the letter that lies within."

"but his terrible habit of appreciating other people's points of view showed him how unsuitable his own friends would seem in the eyes of the duke and duchess."

"If Lady Charmington did love Miss Winston, she disguised the feeling with perfect success."

"(Claude's) manner had just that touch of insolence which it had to all women, and which many of them take as a compliment."

"If Sainty had been old Lady Firth, he could not have felt himself more outside the sphere of the ordinary attraction of man to maid. When his eye rested with admiration on Cissy Ecclestone, his first thought had been what a charming couple she and Arthur would make. He thought it very kind of this pretty young lady to take pity on his disabilities, but he felt that it was hard on her to be left to talk to him;"

"'There are many things, my son, that I should like different about you,' she said, 'and especially I wish you stronger. But no one can say you have ever been anything but a good boy.'"

"His religion was of that comfortable, rational kind in which there is more state than church, and which is first cousin to agnosticism, but infinitely more respectable."

"my little present brings real affection and heartfelt wishes for your happiness."

Amongst the commoners: "(Sainty's) very sense of equality made him feel the falseness of his position, whereas Arthur's easy familiarity sprang from a firm conviction of his own unquestionable superiority."

"'I did it much better than you could have done, because I was rather drunk, which you would never have been.'"

"'I've tried all my life to please her, studied her, thought what she'd like, and I don't believe Arthur has ever done or given up one single thing for her sake; yet she cares more for his little finger than for my whole body.'"

"'Got everything! Heavens! Do you suppose I wouldn't rather be tall and strong and straight like Arthur, be liked by men and admired by women, than own half England and be fifty Lord Belchambers?'"

"Well, never mind about that: I didn't mean to complain; that any one should prefer Arthur to me is not a phenomenon that needs explanation.'"

"'grandmamma must shed her day-skin and give the new one time to harden.'"

"(Actress) smiled affably at the brothers, and at several other acquaintances in the stalls and boxes, and took a most perfunctory interest in what was going on upon the stage."

"with a fixed smile on her lovely mouth that recalled the hairdresser's window."

"'Sainty would be all the better if he were just a little naughty, wouldn't you, my child?'"

"'How kind of you to understand and help me out: but you are so sympathetic, more like a woman in some ways, I always say.'
Sainty was only partially pleased by this equivocal compliment."

"Deep in his heart he knew his real disability; it was not his lack of personal beauty, nor even his lameness that was the bar, but his miserable inherent effeminacy."

"To his morbid self-depreciation her undisguised horror of him appeared only too natural. Still, no one likes to be told of these things quite so bluntly."

"Lady Charmington saw nothing incongruous in finding fault with some acrimony if things were not to her liking, but she was always swift to rebuke a complaining spirit in others."

"'I think it's the books,' Cissy went on. 'They are wonderful furniture. I really must get some."

"He smiled to see how exactly the interior of the house corresponded with his anticipations: everything was modern, ugly, expensive, and already shabby."

"The contrast between the appearances of life and the ghastly things that were so thinly overlaid by them suddenly appalled his spirit."

[Rahul Kanakia · Rating 5 out of 5]

Shocked by how little notice and how few reviews this book has. I first came across it while reading Edith Wharton's biography, A Backward Glance, and I saw in the book that EM Forster was a lover of it too. My impression is that in every era, this book has had a small number of very devoted readers.

It's like few other books I've ever read. The type here is very clear to us: a shy, timid, bookish young man who's had the misfortune to be born as the sole heir to his lordly father's estate. The book shines in the delicate way it portrays Lord Belchamber's character and his timidity, without making us dislike him. He is a person of, at times, moral force (he reminds one of Alexei Karenin from Anna Karenina), but this qualities can be a person's undoing if they're not strong enough to back it up. And yet...and yet...there's a delicate beauty in his weakness as well. Perhaps this book resonated so strongly in me because I saw myself in Belchamber. Not every strong character needs to be a hero or an anti-hero. And not every weak character needs to be some sort of comic laughingstock. I think there's room in literature to portray people as they are: weak and strong at the same time. Totally worth your time if you loved, for instance John William's STONER or anything by Wharton or Henry James.

[Nicolas Chinardet · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a mordant and unsympathetic portrayal of late Victorian aristocracy. Edmund White and, more importantly, EM Forster, are both fans, with Forster calling it a classic. Yet you've probably have never heard of it or its author.

In many ways it is old-fashioned and there are some unpalatable elements to a modern reader (particularly the misogyny that infuse the whole book, sprinkled with a dusting of anti-semitism). The main characters themselves are not likeable at best (Saintly, the anti-hero, is a bit of a wet fool), downright unpleasant at worst (most of the other protagonists are scheming liars). Under the merciless pen of Sturgis, Saintly's life is little than a long successions of personal miseries inflicted on him by his acquaintances but most of all by himself.

Despite all this, as Forster notes in the 1935 afterword tacked unto my edition, the book retains and energy that will likely keep you reading till the end. I also liked the style of writing very much. It is elegant and rich, and serves Sturgis' wry and devastating wit very well.

A warning though, this is not an easy read, the sort of book you can take up and put down constantly. It requires commitment from the reader, an investment of time, to release its treasures. But that it certainly will do if you give it the attention it deserves.

NB: Although listed at LGBT fiction, there is not trace of any LGBT interest in the book, other than the fact that the author was gay himself.

[Sheila Turner · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting read for the depictions of British gentry in the early 20th century, but the characters, while vivid enough, were kind of flat and the book never really went anywhere, though there were plenty of opportunities for it to do so. Sturgis seemed to stand on the precipice of a climax, but then would shy away, so there was never any resulting denouement. The ending was also rather lackluster, despite my being unable to put the book down for the preceding 50 or so pages; it just abruptly (and most unsatisfactorily) defervesced.

[Anna Kennedy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Loved it loved it loved it ... could not stop reading this book, I disagree with those that say nothing happens in it, I found it beautifully written, terribly poignant and a fascinating glimpse into turn-of-the-century Britain. Full of beautiful prose and hilarious characters it rumbles along with increasing pathos until a devastating end which leaves wrenching questions. Very highly recommended.

[Bobbie Darbyshire · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was recommended to me as ‘a work of genius’ by a professor of English who introduces me to enjoyable classics I would never otherwise discover. Sturgis counted Henry James and Edith Wharton among his friends; sadly so, as they poured tepid water on this third novel of his and he never wrote another. I found it engrossing and very witty, with observations of people to rival Jane Austen’s. Thank you once again, prof.

[Carla]

An imperfect, astonishing (and unfairly forgotten) novel with a sexless hero that managed to annoy both Henry James and Edith Wharton. The author is witty, even caustic, about his upper class characters, with a scathing view of women that borders on misogyny — but he’s an ironist at heart, and his ending brings home the moral point with precision. Wish he had not succumbed to Whartonesque gloom, but it’s hardly a surprise.

[Christopher · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an excellent book – and introduction by Edmund White – because it raises moral questions and asks us to judge characters, for which there are no easy or obvious answers or assessments. It has a clever plot with some unexpected twists at the end that leave the reader gasping.

The story is of an aristocrat, Sainty, who is compelled to reluctantly assume his role in the conventional, fashionable world of social climbers, peers, and dons, and in the not-so-fashionable world of actresses and opportunists. These two moral worlds exist relative to each other, and a key question for the reader is which has the moral upper hand? Don’t decide until the last page.

It took Howard Sturgis a decade to write Belchamber, which was originally published in 1904, and its lack of popularity at the time with Edwardian readers was surely due to its covering serious questions and having a pessimistic tone, when escaping from Victorian values the reading public was probably looking for straightforward romance and humor.

Sainty does not fit into his environment, and is the passive recipient of admonishment for this. He is ridiculed, misunderstood, and exploited by those around him until he becomes father to a child. He is bookish and happiest in his period at Cambridge, where he befriends his tutor, Gerald Newby. Even Newby, however, turns out to be a hypocrite, crooning after the titled guests at Sainty’s social events. Sainty is hoodwinked into marrying a fortune-hunting woman who is most cruel. Sainty refuses to fight back against his mother’s pressures (to have a child, son and heir) and against his abusive wife.

I noted that Sturgis did not give the baby a name, which was surely intentional. The baby was the first time that Sainty seemed to express his feelings of love and caring, irrespective of what others thought. Sainty’s mother needed an heir, and the baby fulfilled that need. The baby was, in this sense, fulfilling a role and, one feels, to be pulled along as was Sainty.

Sainty’s sexuality is not mentioned in the book, but it seems clear he is gay in a period and social context when this was unbelievably challenging. Sainty’s suffering will remain in readers’ minds long after they finish the book. Could he have been more assertive, taken action to limit the harm done by his abusive wife? There are many questions that are relevant today, as they were then.

Finally, Sturgis writes beautiful prose. There are other contrasts, such as between Sainty and his cousin Claude, and Sainty and his younger brother Arthur. This makes for intriguing writing. Ten years to write this book, and it is little known. I give it 5* because of the high quality of writing and for the questions it leaves in readers’ minds.

[Ravi Singh · Rating 3 out of 5]

Dated in many ways and written by an American expat who lived in and with high society. His view of this country is the upper classes and nothing less, there is even the token gesture of the working class woman not good enough to marry the main character's younger brother who was the black sheep of the family (it's not expected of the upper classes to marry a working/chorus girl). In the end it is this working class girl who shows a bit of heart whereas all the upper classes are gluttonous and out for themselves type and show no humanity. Verbose in places and in the style of 'story with a moral'. Worth a read, but you're not missing much if you decide to give it a miss.

[David Stone · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was expecting something frothy and epigrammatic in the Oscar Wilde vein from this novel set at a great English country house, but instead discovered a substantial novel of ideas and moral choices, centered around a bullied male protagonist who is about a century before his time. This is most evident in Sainty's liberated view of fatherhood and, indeed, Belchamber contains the most beautiful description of a parent holding his child for the first time I have ever encountered in fiction.

[Lawrence · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was so well written and the side characters so much fun, but the main character was just too pathetic for me to give this 5 stars. It was like something by Henry James or Edith Wharton, but not quite as subtle or complex. Their opinion of the book is mentioned in the introduction and apparently they agreed with me. Hmmm....

[Jim Leckband · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very funny and poignant story of a late 19th century English Marquis who is decidedly not to the manor born. The writing is very engaging and witty - and while Sturgis may take a while to get to the point, unlike Henry James (who was his friend), he actually gets there!

[John · Rating 2 out of 5]

Interesting author (early 20th cent. gay trust funder who moved to England and hosted fascinating people at his homes) but the book is like 3rd rate Henry James

[Elizabeth Bradley · Rating 4 out of 5]

I should have known it would be wicked fun - NYRB got Edmudn White to write the intro. Decadent, smart, and a more than a little surprising.

[Diana E · Rating 3 out of 5]

Painfully funny story of a man born into a position in British Edwardian society to which he is totally unsuited.

[Whit · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was writtne for me! The tale of a Victorian sissy.

[Ali Miremadi · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fabulous. I discovered this through Edith Wharton - while she praised it she did not do her friend Sturgis justice. Will read it again soon.

[Nick Artrip · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Belchamber, first published in 1904, is the portrait of a sissy and was initially disliked by everyone, including Henry James and Edith Wharton, who should have known better. Curiously, the author, Howard Sturgis, was a beloved, amiable sissy who made no effort to hide his embroidery frame and the basket of silk thread he kept beside him at all times.” -Edmund White, from the introduction to Belchamber

One of my reading goals for 2025 was to read more pre-Stonewall queer literature, so I selected a few titles and threw them into my bowl of TBR titles. I was excited when I plucked out Belchamber by Howard Sturgis because it is a title that I’ve been eager to read for some time! Charles Edwin William Augustus Chambers—Marquis and Earl of Belchamber, Viscount Charmington, and Baron St. Edmunds and Chambers, familiarly known as “Sainty” feels ill-equipped for the position he is born into. He objects to sport, drinking, or any of the masculine pursuits his younger brother seems to thrive at. Sainty is sensitive, delicate, intellectual, and prefers needlework above hunting or anything that might result in being hurt. The poor dear.

I felt a spiritual kinship with Sainty that I haven’t often found in other protagonists. Despite the ninety odd years separating our childhoods I could so clearly see my younger self in his character, down to the my youthful (and, occasionally, continuing) belief that I was meant to succumb at an early age like some faggy Beth March. It’s difficult having gendered assumptions that don’t align with your being forced upon you, especially as a child when you are victimized by parents, siblings, and teachers! I’d be tucked under my governess’s too!

Poor Sainty. The older he got, the more difficult I found it to be truly sympathetic to his character, he seems so terribly naive throughout so much of the story. Lacking courage is one thing, but common sense is another. There was never really a point in the novel where I couldn’t have easily predicted what was coming next, but what an interesting cast of wonderfully wicked characters. I was very amused by Lady Eccleston and Sainty’s grandmother, while I found most of the other characters to be delightfully infuriating.

From reading the introduction, White asserts that Wharton and James objected to Sainty’s spinelessness, which I think is probably the think that irritated me the most about this story. The only time he truly defends himself is when Aimee makes insinuations about Cissy or when the nurse is neglectful of baby. If he had expended any of this ferocious energy in Arthur, Cissy, or his mother’s direction, I wonder how things might have turned out. It was certainly frustration, but I don’t know if can credit as the novel’s weakness. I think Sainty’s indecision, anxiety and need to protect himself all naturally arise from being born into a society (and family) intent on making him hate himself.

[Paul Scott · Rating 5 out of 5]

HOWARD STURGIS WAS the son of a wealthy American man of business who chose to move his family to London. Sturgis attended Eton and Cambridge and was only in his early thirties when both his parents died, leaving him with an enormous fortune. He bought a handsome house in Windsor, set himself up there with "his stolid, pleasant lover, William Haynes-Smith, known simply as 'the Babe'," and for years entertained an "unending stream" of friends, "many of them younger homosexuals," drawn there by "the lively conversation, the alternate currents of stylish bitchiness and genuine affection, and the studied luxuries" (all quotations are from Edmund White's introduction to the NYRB Books edition). Guests included a panoply of literary men, including Henry James, and a few women, including Edith Wharton, who referred to the rest of the set as her "male wives."

I wish Sturgis had written a novel about the scene at his house, but the one he did write is nonetheless worth reading. Belchamber is about Charles Edwin William Augustus Chambers, Marquis and Earl of Belchamber, Viscount Charmington, and Baron St. Edmunds and Chambers, the first-born in (obviously) an aristocratic English family who is still a child when the early death of his father leaves him with a vast fortune and a collection of titles.

Sainty (as he is always called) is, however, in for a hard time. For one thing, as his nickname hints, he is a holy fool, guileless, unsuspecting, unselfish, too good for this world. For another thing, Sainty is ill at ease with his assigned gender. He likes sewing better than hunting. The word for him in 1904, when the novel was published, would have been "sissy," but we might go with "queer."

Things go about as well for Sainty as they do for Dostoevsky's holy fool, Prince Myshkin, in The Idiot, with the added complication of his queerness. Various prospects for happiness open up for Sainty, but something always goes wrong, usually in consequence of someone or other opportunistically taking advantage of Sainty's trust and innocence. The end is heartbreaking.

Sturgis reportedly was quite cast down by Henry James's not liking Belchamber. James's stated reason was that Sturgis did not know the English upper class well enough to present them in a novel, but one wonders if the Master found the portrait of queerness disconcertingly close to home. In any case, kudos to NYRB Books for bringing this unique novel back into print.

[Jackie · Rating 2 out of 5]

A Review of “Belchamber”
By: Howard Overing Sturgis
The protagonist in this story, Lord St. Edmunds, aptly nicknamed “Sainty” is a good person with a strong moral character, who admires his devout mother. He is the eldest male heir, who would prefer that his responsibilities as such, be thrust upon his younger brother, and mother’s favorite, Arthur. Unfortunately, Arthur is irresponsible and reckless, so Sainty must protect him from the bad influences of the outside world. One of those influences being their charismatic cousin, Claude. Another demand made of Sainty is to produce offspring and continue the bloodline. However, the chosen woman wants nothing to do with him.
Belchamber starts slowly with descriptions of the house and setting, the family history, and ancestry before being introduced to Sainty. The pace eventually picks up when we see Sainty dealing with Arthur, who is interacting with Cissy Eccleston, the young woman chosen for Sainty. Sainty lives up to his name with his good deeds, high morality, respectfulness, and assistance to others, even though he comes off as condescending. This makes him boring and annoying to me. His one fallible action is when he lies to his mother about Arthur’s sinful choices in his desire to protect her.
Sprinkled throughout the story are subtle descriptions of Sainty that make him less than masculine. His hobbies are needlepoint and reading. He doesn’t take to sports and is relieved when he is injured after falling off a horse that he was he expected to ride. He is compared to being like a women, referring to his lack of interest in masculine activities, and his future mother in-law saying that talking to him is like talking to another women. For his 21st birthday, he insists on inviting Gerald Newby, a friend from school. His excitement about Gerald reminds me of the way a girl is excited that her crush will be at her party. I think the indications of his tendencies are what the author intended. This is the most compelling thing about Sainty, but it would have been interesting to see him cope with society’s judgment if this had been a plot point. His mother’ unwavering Catholicism would have thought him sinful and maybe tried to save him from himself. It is both sad and ironic that Sainty, who admires and respects his mother is not the favored son, instead of the highly immoral Arthur.
It would have been more entertaining if Sturgis took us into the minds, motives, and perspectives of Arthur, Claude, or Cissy, using their immorality to moves the plot along. These characters could have growth, unlike Sainty, who does not learn anything by the end of the story, except that people are selfish. It is not a bad novel, nor a great novel, but there was wasted potential for Sturgis to either do more with Sainty or tell a story with the more compelling characters.

[astried]

I was pleasantly surprised by the writing, the humour and playfulness. Was not sure if it could be kept up and if it would be bearable to read over a long time. in the end i was annoyed by the plot and the characterisation. not an amazing book but it was a fun beginning.

[Aaron · Rating 2 out of 5]

Good quality prose and an interesting perspective, but all we are treated to is page after page of characters abusing and taking advantage of the mild protagonist. Frustration abounds.

[Olivia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Good characterisation but kinda bland altogether, Howard is sexy though xx

[Justin Evans · Rating 4 out of 5]

If Henry James had been much funnier, but not quite as good a novelist.

[Brian O'Connell · Rating 5 out of 5]

“The contrast between the appearances of life and the ghastly things that were thinly overlaid by them suddenly appalled his spirit.”

[Mikki Janower · Rating 2 out of 5]

Full of witticisms, but also repetition. character growth sold separately