Louis Auchincloss tortures me. He is an excellent writer, clear and elegant in his prose, with deep understanding of character. His subjects inhabit the apex of society - old money, old houses, venerable names, private clubs, the most prestigious prep schools where the headmaster was likely to be a relation. To a small degree, these people are insufferable; Auchincloss' view of poverty is one where Granny is stingy in doling out funds, from her crumbling Southampton mansion. And he knows the lay of this precious land - Southampton, never East Hampton. Always and only, the "right" places.
The worst sin, and gravest epithet, is to be vulgar.
That being said, he writes about genuine moral dilemmas, in this case a quandary that spans ages of the descendants of John Winthrop, first Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. (Did I mention old money?) In succeeding generations, various and sundry Winthrop offspring face the question - can humans be saved, or or only some elect, and the others damned?
To examine the facets of this question, he looks at the manifestations of "goodness" over the ages. Anne Hutchinson is banished from Boston to Rhode Island for the fervor of her religious intensity, and her perceived heretical viewpoints. (Not to mention being a bold, outspoken WOMAN; the nerve of her!) Adam Winthrop, generations later, is a perfect gentleman - president of the Patroons Club, art collector, on the right civic and cultural boards - will nonetheless brutally destroy a friendship rather than admit his own error in judgment. Natica Seligmann, daughter of the celebrated Winthrop girls (think Mitfords), has married brilliantly, but discover that neither she nor her husband are actually much interested in one another. When he decides to leave their sparkling life at the top of New York society to teach in a remote and unremarkable college upstate, she has no choice but to divorce him. What else can she do?
One cannot fault Auchincloss, descended from one of the founding families of New York. He knows this world intimately. It's more than a bit of a hothouse, with its obsessions about money and power and position. But these are rarely spoken in more than a whisper. To do otherwise would be, heaven forfend, vulgar.
And yet his people slip up time and again. There are period-accurate but nonetheless repellent moments of casual racism, effete anti-Semitism, and a pervading smugness that dismays even as it illuminates. Basically, this WASP paragon concerns himself entirely with a world that interests me less and less, even given my own position of privileged white male with an Ivy League education and all that goes with it.
Admirable but scarcely enjoyable, well-crafted but encrusted in amber. He was never the voice of a generation, but nonetheless admirable and abominable in almost equal measure.