Opening on the French Riviera among a motley community of American expatriates, The Mother's Recompense tells the story of Kate Clephane and her reluctant return to New York society after being exiled years before for abandoning her husband and infant daughter.
Oddly enough, Kate has been summoned back by that same daughter, Anne, now fully grown and intent on marrying Chris Fenno, a war hero, dilettante, and social opportunist. Chris's questionable intentions toward her daughter are, however, the least of Kate's worries since she was once, and still is, deeply in love with him. Kate's moral quandary and the ensuing drama evoke comparison with Oedipus and Hamlet and lead to an ending that startled the mores of the day.
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.
Este o adevarata placere sa citesti acest roman in minunatele zile insorite, undeva pe terasa, bronzandu-te bland, cu o limonada alaturi, lasandu-ti gandurile sa zboare lejer si nepasandu-ti de nimic altceva decat de placerea clipei oferita de lectura, de soare, de liniste. Edith Wharton, ca si celebrul ei mentor Henry James, abordeaza diferite probleme de morala. Este cunoscuta si apreciata pentru numeroasele ei opere, cum ar fi: "Varsta inocentei" - pentru care a primit premiul Pulitzer si care a fost ecranizata de Martin Scorsese, "Casa veseliei" (ecranizata cu Gillian Anderson), "Obstacole" sau "Ethan Frome". Romanul de fata, "The mother's recompense" debuteaza cu un citat din Shelley: "E-atat de gingasa singuratatea!" si ridica una dintre cele mai imposibile probleme de morala: situatia in care o mama si o fiica iubesc acelasi barbat (lucky him). :) O avem in prim plan pe Kate Clephane, care se intoarce din Franta la New York la chemarea fiicei ei Anna. Kate parasise caminul conjugal cand fetita avea doar 3 ani fugind cu un barbat si parasindu-si atat sotul cat si pe ea. Calatorind prin lume, are o aventura cu un barbat mai tanar ca ea, Chris, care pana la urma o paraseste. Anna are acum 21 de ani si fiind ramasa singura pe lume o cheama acasa pe mama sa pentru a o cunoaste. In ciuda trecutului fiica ei o primeste cu bratele deschise si legatura lor se intareste. La New York insa, Kate il reintalneste pe Chris chiar in atelierul de pictura al fiicei ei. Afla ca cei doi se iubesc si doresc sa se casatoreasca. Interventia ei va aduce o gramada de probleme si o va pune in situatia de a renunta la linistea ei interioara si la sine sau din nou la propria fiica. Ajungem asadar la problema cruda de morala pe care ne-o propune autoarea - cum sa-i spuna fetei sale ca viitorul ei sot a fost iubitul sau, cum sa-i desparta pe cei doi, cum sa faca sa nu fie sursa suferintei propriei fiice? Iata prin ce tortura psihica oribila trece protagonista. Anna pe de alta parte, cum sa suporte gandul ca viitorul ei sot s-a culcat si cu mama ei? Cum sa traiasca toti 3 in acest triunghi, intr-o singura casa? Va recomand romanul pentru stilul si dilemele moraliste pe care le propune Edith Wharton, in stilul sau nonconformist in care toate eroinele ei rup eticheta, socheaza, lupta si adesea pierd, infrunta curajos societatea si destinul si incearca sa supravietuiasca intr-o lume prea rigida pentru o femeie inteligenta care simte atat de mult. Iata si cateva citate care mi-au placut in mod special: "Avea si ea mandria ei de care nu trebuia sa uite si sa se comporte nesabuit." "Dar cand are oare o femeie o alta posibilitate? Sa manevreze si sa astepte..." "... asfixianta atmosfera de egoism si indiferenta pe care John Clephane o degaja, la fel ca acidul carbonic iesit prin crapaturile unui semineu." "N-avea nicio importanta faptul ca el o facuse sa sufere! Lui ii datora totul. Adevaratul ei eu se zamislise odata cu aceasta dragoste." "Kate isi dadea seama ca nu stiuse sa citeasca limpede in inima lui decat o singura data: in ziua in care intelesese ca el se saturase de ea." "De cand americanii nu mai sufera de stomac, isi spunea ea, si-au pierdut singura lor sansa de a avea caracter." "Tot ce stiu, biata mea copila, e ca in cazul asta, nu exista decat un singur leac: daca n-ai minte tot iti mai ramane mandria."
La renuncia de Edith Warthon es una historia que puede tener muchas lecturas e interpretaciones, tenemos a Kate una cuarentona norteamericana que vive vacacionando permanentemente en Europa, en hoteles de segunda categoría, con una doncella y agarrada con uñas a una sociedad expatriada, algo liberal pero en el límite de lo que se llamaría buena y distinguida gente.
La historia de Kate es sencilla, se casó con un buen partido, pero muy apegado a la tradición familiar, ella se aburrió y huyó con un amante, como consecuencia le prohibieron ver a su hija, le asignaron una modesta cantidad y así ha vivido por muchos años, hasta que llega una carta de su hija, ya una señorita que la manda a llamar, ahora que su padre y su abuela ya no están, ella regresa a Nueva York impulsada por el amor materno.
La narración se enfoca en Kate, y a través de sus ojos y de sus pensamientos es que seguimos la historia, la personalidad de ella es atípica de la época y esto se nota desde que llega a Nueva York reivindicada por su hija, a pesar de estar feliz, empieza q sentir un agobio y una opresión que le provoca la familia, la casa, las convenciones sociales, todo lo que dejó atrás y que le molestaba e incomodaba profundamente, Kate se siente como un pez fuera del agua dando bocanadas para sobrevivir, pero confortada por el amor de su hija, este equilibrio precario se rompe cuando un amante olvidado, más joven que ella y que en su momento la abandonó, reaparece con una aureola de héroe de guerra y aparentemente cambiado, es entonces cuando la narración y los pensamientos de Kate se vuelven pedregosos, llenos de malos augurios y en picada.
Kate parece ser una madre preocupada y capaz de sacrificarse por su hija, pero también emerge la Kate mujer, esa que se cuida al máximo para seguir viéndose juvenil, la que siempre ha sido independiente y sin nadie que le diga que hacer, esa lucha es encarnizada y sobre todo ante una hija que es más parecida a su familia paterna que a ella.
Al final Kate hace lo mejor para ella y para su hija aunque no lo parezca, y es extraño que conciliando sus dos lados, al final la Kate mujer vence y logra permanecer aún cuando el precio es caro, ella respira otra vez y por fin se libera tanto de sus culpas como de sus fantasmas.
Tiene mucho mérito este libro, tiene un ritmo muy pausado y sobre todo tiene mucho fondo, para la época debió haber sido un poco raro e inclusive ilógico, pero tiene mucho peso que el personaje de Kate tenga tantos claroscuros, y se cuestione tantas cosas y sobre todo sea capaz de emerger como una persona, más allá de buscar un papel de esposa o madre. Tiene mucho mérito y vale la pena leerlo para formarse una opinión al respecto.
Tengo que confesar que durante toda la lectura odie a Kate, pero al final me reconcilie con ella y logre entender que al final logro prevalecer como persona y no comprometer su libertad de elección.
Subiectul e la vedere: fără să știe, o fată se căsătorește cu fostul amant al mamei sale. Mi se trezise deja și curiozitatea scriitoricească: cum anume va rezolva autoarea chestiunea asta într-un mod rezonabil? Majoritatea scenariilor posibile îmi sunau de-a dreptul de telenovelă.
Guess what: n-a rezolvat-o. Și n-a rezolvat-o într-o manieră magnifică.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
After reading "The Age of Innocence", "The House of Mirth", and "Custom the Country" I thought I'd read the best of Wharton. Not So! Wharton is always exemplary in portraying upper class New Yorkers and their staid customs. Some things are de rigueur and others just aren't allowed. Unlike her earlier gilded age settings "Recompense" takes place post World War I and there are cars, easier travel within and without the country, telephones provide easier communication. In her early twenties Kate ran from her rules worshiping husband, leaving behind her three year old daughter. Worse still a society playboy helped her escape and then dumped her and everyone who matters knows about it. She exiles herself to Europe and settles in with other rule breakers. They partially redeem themselves with good works during the war. Time moves on. Divorce is invented! More importantly others from her social set misbehave eclipsing her own scandal. When her husband and then her mother in law die Kate's daughter invites her back home to live with her. Kate is surprised at how easily she fits back in, how nonchalantly her old cronies welcome her and how much her daughter cares for her. The one love affair she allowed herself during her exile comes back to haunt her threatening her new life however. Despite this Kate sees vistas of possible happiness, but ultimately she has to decide between speaking the truth and hurting her daughter or keeping secrets that are almost impossible to swallow. Sadly her real choice narrows down to deciding whether she wants to feel alone and alienated in NY or on the Continent. At least this is territory she's already familiar with.
One of Edith Wharton's later novels. Kate Clephane has lived on the French Riviera since being exiled from New York where she eloped with her lover. Left behind was Kate's young daughter Anne. We move on twenty years when Anne sends a telegram asking her mother back after the death of her grandmother. She settles back down to life in New York. The joy is soon threatened by the reappearance of the only man Kate had truly loved. Very gripping story. A tale of secrets which leads us to a surprising ending!
Hace 20 años, Kate Clephane renunció a su familia y a su vida en Nueva York para huir con su amante. Ahora lleva una existencia fútil y vacía entre los exiliados americanos de pasado poco ortodoxo que viven en la costa azul francesa. Pero un telegrama de su hija Anne invitándola a volver a casa cambiara todo. Deseosa por recuperar a la hija que dejo atrás y que no conoce, Kate regresara a Nueva York, tratando de amoldarse a una sociedad que nunca le llego a gustar. Pero ese equilibrio se romperá cuando descubra que Anne se ha prometido al único hombre que ella amó alguna vez. Y eso amenaza con destruir el frágil vínculo que madre e hija han empezado a forjar…
No voy a decir que esta novela no me ha gustado porque mentiría descaradamente. Me ha gustado mucho. Pero he tenido dos grandes problemas con ella. En primer lugar, que no creo que sea una de las grandes novelas jamás escritas por Edith Wharton, una autora a la que admiro más con cada libro que leo de ella. Y de ahí proviene mi segundo problema: hubo un momento, hacia la mitad, en que pensé que si iba a ser así. Pero el último cuarto de la lectura me dejó claro que esto no iba a pasar. De ahí la ligera decepción que me ha supuesto un libro que no me ha parecido malo en absoluto. Pese a algún pequeño problema que le encontrado mientras lo leía.
Quizás todo empezó desde las primeras páginas. El principio me pareció muy descriptivo y muy lento, sentí que al libro le costo despegar un poco. Para mi, en ciertos momentos, tanta descripción y tanto enfoque en los detalles y en el mundo interior de Kate y sus pensamientos me pareció un tanto innecesario, ya que me pareció que ralentizaba la lectura demasiado. Pero también entiendo la intención de la autora, ya que logra recrear una atmósfera decadentista y mostrarnos a una protagonista que tiene mucho más que demostrar que lo que parece a simple vista. Una vez más Wharton vuelve a demostrarnos como crear una pequeña obra maestra a partir de una idea aparentemente ramplona, como lograr que un argumento sencillo fluya y sea eficaz de una manera sutil y con unos recursos literarios económicos, sin necesidad de grandes giros de guión o situaciones que dejen al lector con la impresión de ser forzosas. Su trabajo es impecable, con una pluma inteligente y pulida, capaz de evocar como pocas pueden hacerlo, crear imágenes mentales con las palabras que se meten en el lector con la suavidad y finura de una pequeña cascada. Todo está muy bien medido y los personajes están finalmente construidos, incluso los secundarios. Su prosa es increíblemente pulida y sarcástica, sobresaliendo sus descripciones sociales y psicológicas. Con cada libro que leo de ella, más y más me enamoro de su estilo narrativo.
Si hay algo que no se puede negar es que Wharton es una autora excepcional por su sutileza, por la forma en que todo lo que hay de impactante y demoledor en la historia es lo que subyace en ella, los matices y los detalles de los que está plagada son parte del propio argumento y de la intención que tiene la autora al narrarla. Hasta los silencios de sus personajes dicen más que cualquier acto o palabra. O por lo menos normalmente. Y ese es el kid de la cuestión, el gran problema que le he encontrado a “La Renuncia” respecto a otros libros de la Wharton. Como dije más arriba, tras un principio lento, me pareció que se metía el acelerador dentro de la obra de una manera que me pareció muy bien para lograr mantener el interés del lector por lo que tenía delante. Y muy bien llevada, pues no resultaba abrupto para nada, sino que resultaba muy natural. Se no ponía sobre la mesa varios conflictos humanos, muy interesantes: la autentica esencia de las relaciones entre madres e hijas, y lo complicadas que pueden resultar;la manera en que van forjándose con el paso de los años y nunca pueden idealizase; y que supone, realmente, ser madre. Y también trataba sobre cómo el pasado acaba por llamar siempre a tu puerta, como no se puede huir de él. Pero llego un punto en que la forma en que Kate se desenvolvía sobre estas cuestiones me pareció muy plana. La obra empezó, poco a poco, a perder fuelle mientras iba leyendo, me faltaba de una forma brutal la sutileza y el fino sarcasmo que suelen ser marca de la casa Wharton. Y eso hizo que lo que leía me parecía muy simple y convencional, demasiado plano y carente de interés. Me faltaba creer lo que leía, que el conflicto se tratase de una forma más delicada y profunda. Todo el tratamiento se me quedo en muy poco. Y más cuando sé que Wharton si es capaz de hacerlo.
Hay un río que recorre toda la novela, y que lleva a Kate a un camino totalmente diferente a cómo empezó la historia. Y este río es subterráneo, en el sentido de que, aparentemente, nada ha cambiado en la vida de nuestra protagonista. Su paso por Nueva York podría haberse quedado en un mero paréntesis en su vida, la cual es solo real en la costa azul. Un paréntesis que puede dejarle al lector la sensación de no ser verdaderamente relevante. Porque siento que Wharton no nos hace completamente consciente de esta artimaña hasta las últimos párrafos de la novela ni se desenvuelve bien con Kate y la decisión que tomo hasta ese punto. Como si lo que realmente le interese es demostrar cómo llego a ese punto, más que sus consecuencias. Solo se toma la molestia de hacerlo comprensible cuando llega la hora de cerrar la novela, como si fuera consciente de que algo se ha quedado en el tintero con Kate. Para mí la última página de la novela es lo que la salva In extremis, y lo que da verdadera relevancia al personaje de Kate.
Durante toda la lectura no he podido dejar de ver similitudes con una de las obras de Wharton más famosas (si no la que más) “La Edad de la Inocencia”. Al igual que en esta, en “La Renuncia” nos encontramos a dos protagonistas en medio de la alta sociedad neoyorquina de finales del siglo XIX o principios del XX. Y ambos; la Kate de la obra que ahora nos ocupa y el Newland Archer de “La Edad de la Inocencia”; ven los sinsentidos de esas sociedad, lo ridículamente snob y clasista que es. Como se rige por férreas normas sociales, y se mueve al son de sus incesantes cotilleos y sus cambiantes preferencias y alianzas. Una vez más, Wharton nos la presenta como una especie de cárcel dorada y asfixiante, en la que sus habitantes creen vivir muy bien, pero que en realidad es un mundo y cruel que tiene algo de selvático, en el que no está permitido salirse de la tangente o la naturalidad, ya que todo esta angustiosamente bien definido y marcado. No obstante es aquí donde ambas novelas divergen, lo que para mi hace que “La Renuncia” sea, de alguna manera, sucesora de lo que muestra “La Edad de la Inocencia”: esta no deja de ser la crónica de un mundo que está llegando a su crepúsculo, el de las viejas familias de noble abolengo y rancias costumbres de la Nueva York del cambio de siglo; y del conflicto que están destinados a perder contra los nuevos ricos de linaje más bajo que acaban de llegar y que poco a poco van haciéndose con todo el poderío económico y social. En “La Renuncia” ese cambio ya se ha asimilado parcialmente. Y eso se ve en que parece que las normas se han vuelto más ligeras, y que conductas que antes hubieran sido públicamente rechazadas ahora son más aceptadas. Pero en realidad, aunque el conteniente haya cambiado el contenido sigue siendo el mismo. La moraleja es que la sociedad es caprichosa y no hay nada seguro. Pero eso no equivale a que vaya a mejor, ya que nunca deje de ser una espada de Damocles sobre aquellos que la conforman, ya que los prejuicios y las imposiciones sociales (por más que se metamorfoseen) siempre acaban por imponerse y marcar los compases. Se pueden aceptar muchas cosas, pero nunca que te salgas de la tangente, sea cual sea en ese momento.
Una víctima de esto será nuestra protagonista, Kate Clephane. Al igual que el protagonista de “La Edad de la Inocencia” es perfectamente capaz de ver más allá de los convencionalismos sociales. Puede parecer que acepta todo lo que dicta la sociedad neoyorquina, y de hecho, hay un momento de la novela en que llega hacerlo con el fin de volver a adaptarse a la misma y recuperar a su hija Anne. Pero eso no equivale a que nunca llegue a sentirse cómoda entre los miembros que la componen, ya que nunca deje de ver más allá de la máscaras que todos se han puesto para dar de cara a la galería y componer una imagen de satisfacción con la vida que llevan. Pero Kate es una mujer que está mucho más allá de eso.Al principio de la novela se nos presenta como un personaje que puede parecer vacío, simple e insustancial. Al fin de al cabo, en la costa francesa no deja de hacer lo que luego vemos en Nueva York: intentar sobrevivir al tipo de existencia que supone el no tener un fin real en la misma, tener un lugar dentro de una sociedad en la que sus participantes la aburren en el mejor de los casos. Dentro de su cabeza, Kate crítica a todos quienes la rodean, tanto en Francia como en Nueva York. Pero, al final, hace lo mismo que ellos, si bien nosotros conocemossus motivos. Pero, paulatinamente, los sucesos del pasado se entrelazarán con su nuevo presente, obligándola a tomar una decisión y a decidir entre ella misma y su hija Anne. Kate deberá ser fiel a si misma para salvarse y para lograr la felicidad de Anne, y eso supondrá un sacrificio enorme que la consagrara como su propia heroína personal. Kate es una heroína Wharton de tomo y lomo, ya que no acaba de encajar en la sociedad en la que le ha tocado vivir.Y al final acaba convirtiéndose más en una condesa Olenska que en un Newland Archer , quien al final de “La Edad de la Inocencia” se conforma y acaba adaptándose y convirtiéndose en un actor más de ese escenario recreado por y para las clases altas.
Me parece muy interesante las contradicciones que supone este personaje y como Wharton las dibuja: la manera en que Kate se acomoda a su papel de madre nada más volver a Nueva York, casi sintiéndose feliz y agradecida con el hecho de ser simplemente la madre de Anne y dejar atrás todo lo que ha conllevado su huida. Parece que va a perder su individualidad, pero eso no es posible para un personaje tan lleno de vida y con un pasado tan tormentoso. Pero de alguna forma, la autora logra enlazar ambas cuestiones al obligar a Kate a defender y poner en valor esa individualidad en pos de la felicidad de Anne. En cierto modo, se ve cierta simpleza por parte de Wharton a la hora de tratar los vínculos entre madre e hija. Kate y Anne, nada más verse después de 20 años, conectan genial, se quieren mucho y se llevan a las mil maravillas. Los matices y los reproches no llegan hasta que ambas se enfrentan a un conflicto real. Y también hay cierta simpleza cuando la autora trabaja las mil caras que puede tener el vínculo materno-filial en general. En cierto modo, Wharton no innova, se limita a perpetuar la idea de que una madre debe sacrificarlo todo en pos de su descendencia. Sin embargo, la innovación viene en que ese tratamiento tan superficial pronto se muestra un espejismo. Llegado el momento, la relación entre ambas no puede ser tan profunda, cualquier mínima corriente puede cambiar su curso. Y también, se pone el foco en que Kate es algo más que la simple madre que le gustaría ser. Es un personaje demasiado complejo para quedar encasillado en ese papel. Por muchas causas no puede ni sabe cómo hacerlo. Para mí, estos matices son algunos de los detalles que dan brillo y capas a “La Renuncia”.
La impresión que me ha dejado esta lectura es que aquí podemos ver entrelazados lo mejor y lo peor de Edith Wharton como escritora. Es una novela que recuerda a algunos de sus mejores trabajos y que trata temas muy interesantes. Y en la que, sin ninguna duda, se puede ver las excelentes dotes de Wharton como escritora, comprobar lo maravilloso que resulta leerla por lo bien que maneja las palabras. Pero, tras un momento de despliegue, la autora es incapaz de mantenerse en lo que cuenta. La novela cae y no remonta, mínimamente, hasta su final del todo. En “La Edad de la Inocencia” se lograba que manteniéndose todo igual en su principio a fin, todo cambiase, que Newland Archer hiciera todo un viaje emocional aunque de cara a la galería su vida no cambiase. Aquí se busca esta misma sensación, con Kate estando en la primera y en la última escena de la obra en el mismo sitio, sin que aparentemente nada haya cambiado y todo se mantenga exactamente igual que al inicio, como si de los reflejos de un espejo se tratasen. Pero, al igual que Archer, se supone que Kate ha hecho toda una evolución emocional. Pero esa no se enfatiza hasta los últimos párrafos de la obra. De ahí, que aunque se logre percibir este cambio, el lector acabe, no pudiendo empatizar o ahondar en el mismo por estar llevado de una forma menos sútil e incisiva, por no lograr ponerse el foco en él plenamente. Y eso es lo que me ha fallado en esta obra.
* Advertencia: muchos de los comentarios e ideas que he puesto en esta reseña están directamente sacados de lo que escribí hace un año sobre “La Edad de la Inocencia”. Como lo que hago es auto plagiarme a mi misma, no tengo la percepción de estar haciendo algo malo.Pero, por si acaso, me parece conveniente avisarlo.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
‘The Mother’s Recompense’ is one of Edith Wharton’s later novels, published in 1925.
It tells the story of Kate Clephane, an American who lived in exile on the French Riviera. She had been unhappy in her marriage, trapped by a controlling husband, and so she fled with another man. He left her, but that wasn’t what broke her heart; losing her infant daughter did that. And so for more than twenty years Kate her life among the quietly alongside so many others who had broken society’s rules.
It was not easy to feel sympathy for a woman who had abandoned her daughter, but I did. Because Kate Clephane was a real, complex, human being, and she was as interesting as any woman I have met in the pages of an Edith Wharton novel.
She had accepted her situation; she had just one regret, and memories that haunted her ….
It was in France, at the start of the First World War, that Kate Clephane met the love of her life. Chris Fenno was a much younger man, and they were happy together until family ties, and practical matters, called him home to America. Kate was left to live alone again, in genteel poverty.
Two telegrams changed her life. The first told her that her mother-in-law, the formidable woman in whose lifetime Kate would never dare go home, was dead. And the second asked her to come home. Anne, the daughter who had grown up without her mother, wanted her to come. Kate was ecstatic, and she went without a moment’s hesitation.
Anne is as eager as Kate to build a mother/daughter relationship and soon they are devoted to each other. But they don’t really no each other, and they don’t talk about the most important things of all. Kate simply loves her daughter above anything else.
She sees that society has changed, but she quickly finds that she cannot talk about her past; the rules may be different for her daughter’s generation, but not for hers.
It was fascinating to watch, but the key point of the story was still to come:
Kate sees Chris Fenno again; and then she discovers that he is the man her daughter plans to marry.
She is shattered. She wants to prevent the wedding, but she knew she could not anyone even guess her reasons, because that could damage her relationship with her daughter irreparably. But without explaining her reason she has no grounds for insisting that Anne – who is as passionate as her mother and as stubborn as her grandmother – give up the man her heart is set on.
There was a hint of contrivance about the situation a and a dash of melodrama – but Kate’s dilemma was horribly real, and her emotions were complex. She was aware that she was growing older, that she feelings about her lost love were still strong, that the rules instilled in her could not be easily shaken off, that she wanted to do the right thing but she did not know if she could live with that.
So many themes that have been threaded through other books, and I found echoes of other characters and other stories in this one.
I don’t think it is Edith Wharton’s best work though; the story needed a little more space to breathe, the supporting characters needed a little more time to come to life, and because of that the story seemed just a little hazy in places.
It feels unfinished, unpolished, but it is still a very readable novel, and a much more interesting piece of work than I’d been lead to believe.
And the ending is perfect: uplifting and heartbreaking at the same time, and it highlights Kate Clephane’s character beautifully.
È mattino presto quando i raggi del sole fanno capolino tra le tende di una finestra. Kate Clephane viene svegliata dalla luce che inonda la sua stanza nel piccolo albergo sulla Costa Azzurra dove risiede ormai da molti anni. Per lei sembra l'inizio di una giornata uguale a tante altre trascorse negli ultimi diciotto anni... ma non è così. Durante la colazione riceve un telegramma della figlia Anne, che ha abbandonato molti anni prima dopo aver perduto la potestà genitoriale in seguito al divorzio con il marito e alla sua fuga in Francia con il suo amante di allora, una storia che però finì poco tempo dopo. Sono passati diciotto anni da allora e Kate che adesso ha quarantaquattro anni ha vissuto tutti questi anni in solitudine in varie città d'Europa ma per lo più in Francia senza fare mai ritorno in patria. In questo lungo “esilio” ha frequentato la comunità di espatriati americani e la sua vita è stata impegnata tra feste, gite in carrozza, tè pomeridiani, partite a bridge, soggiorni in barca, serate al casinò, ecc. La figlia, dopo essere diventata maggiorenne e orfana di padre e nonna, vuole riallacciare il rapporto con la madre e le chiede di vivere con lei a New York. Madre e figlia si ritrovano con gioia dopo tanto tempo; Anne accoglie la madre come se nulla fosse successo in questi anni e la ricolma di attenzioni. Le due riescono a poco a poco a costruire un rapporto basato sulla fiducia e sulla sincerità; vivono felici e beate nel lusso del loro appartamento che si affaccia sulla Quinta strada e tutto sembra procedere per il meglio. Un bel giorno però Anne svela alla madre l'altro motivo per cui la voluta con sé a New York: il suo fidanzamento e le future nozze con Chris Fenno. Chris si rivela un ex amante di Kate (amante che lei non ha ancora dimenticato) con cui ha avuto una relazione molti anni prima e di cui nessuno ha mai saputo nulla...
Pubblicato nel 1925 La ricompensa di una madre è uno degli ultimi e sicuramente uno dei più sconosciuti lavori di Edith Wharton. Ancora una volta l'autrice americana ambienta un suo romanzo nella società newyorchese; società che lei conosceva molto bene. Il romanzo ben scritto, scorrevole anche se poco avvincente (non ci sono molti colpi di scena) si svolge pochi anni dopo la Grande Guerra ed è ambientato in una New York che proprio in quegli anni è in grande fermento e in continua trasformazione sia fisicamente con nuove costruzioni di palazzi e strade, sia nell'aspetto morale con un superamento delle convenzioni sociali e delle tradizioni che fino ad allora l'avevano contraddistinta. La protagonista infatti era scappata dal conformismo di quella società rigida e attenta alle convenzioni; un mondo che anni prima l'aveva osteggiata e censurata e che invece al suo ritorno ha trovato inaspettatamente più moderna e tollerante che non la giudica anzi l'accetta e la sostiene. Edith Wharton è una scrittrice che indaga da vicino l'universo femminile e le usanze del suo tempo; riesce a sorprendere ogni volta il lettore grazie alla sua capacità di indagare e scavare nei meandri più nascosti dell'animo umano soprattutto quello femminile. Le donne create dalla scrittrice americana sono sempre combattute tra le discordanze del cuore e della coscienza; nei suoi romanzi possiamo trovare donne dolci e allo stesso tempo determinate o altre più emotive ed impulsive. In questo caso Kate la protagonista assoluta del romanzo è una donna passionale e irrequieta che scappa dal suo matrimonio, dall'opprimente famiglia del marito e dalle convenzioni sociali che la tormentano, fuggendo con l'amante nel Vecchio Continente. Anni dopo però è una donna sola, afflitta dal senso di colpa e con un'anima lacerata da mille domande. Il suo ritorno in madrepatria lo si può considerare in un certo senso un cammino di espiazione per l'abbandono della figlia. La sua vita tranquilla in Europa (nessuno sa della sua relazione con un giovane ragazzo) ha contribuito a darle una nuova reputazione nella sua città natale. Anche il rapporto con la figlia sembra andare bene; certo non è facile costruire un legame tra madre e figlia a causa della diffidenza e della separazione durata più di un decennio ma tutto sembra procedere al meglio e le due provano a recuperare e costruire un nuovo vincolo familiare basato su amore e fiducia. Il loro rapporto però s'incrina quando Anne le annuncia le sue prossime nozze con Chris Fenno. Chris aspirante artista e ora reduce di guerra è l'ultimo uomo che Kate si potesse aspettare come futuro genero; infatti il ragazzo è stato il suo “toy boy” per alcuni mesi in Europa prima dello scoppio del conflitto mondiale. È proprio a partire da questa sconvolgente notizia che in Kate inizia una battaglia interiore combattuta tra tormenti, dubbi, pensieri e preoccupazioni; infatti, lei vuole in tutti i modi evitare un matrimonio tra i due giovani, cerca di trovare un compromesso, tenta di mascherare Chris e di mettere in guardia la figlia, senza allo stesso tempo svelare il suo segreto... ma non è un'impresa facile. Kate e il suo comportamento però non mi hanno convinto totalmente; ad un certo punto l'ho trovata un po' invidiosa nei confronti della figlia (anche se quest'ultima viene descritta come una ragazza bella, educata, generosa, apprezzata da tutti in società, in pratica è la perfezione fatta persona) che è riuscita dove lei non ce l'ha fatta; ed egoista soprattutto nella sua scelta finale di rivelare la sua colpa anzi il suo segreto ad una persona buona che non c'entra nulla con tutto quello che è successo; penso che lei lo abbia fatto solo per liberarsi la coscienza da un peso enorme che ormai la stava schiacciando.
Edith Wharton come sempre riesce a descrivere elegantemente come solo lei sa fare con la sua penna – che ancora una volta si trasforma in un bisturi affilato – il tormento di una donna tra ragione e sentimento; lo analizza, lo mette su carta riuscendo sin dal principio a attrarti all'interno della vicenda narrata. La ricompensa di una madre è una finissima indagine psicologica che pone continuamente domande e offre molti spunti di riflessione al lettore; un'opera abbastanza coinvolgente (anche se un po' lontana dalle altre sue opere che ho letto precedentemente, secondo me) che tiene il lettore incollato alle pagine, anche se tutto questo dubbio e questo scervellarsi alla fine un po' stanca; la trama l'ho trovata un po' rigida e i personaggi rimangono un po' sfocati tranne la protagonista che è ben delineata e approfondita.
Era possibile, umanamente possibile, gettar via il tesoro più prezioso, e tornare dopo quasi vent'anni e trovarlo ancora lì, non solo raro come lo conservava la memoria, ma più ricco, più maturo, nel modo in cui solo le cose belle arricchiscono e maturano con il tempo?
...O il tormento di una madre!! Trama molto coinvolgente, di quelle che ti tengono incollata alle pagine fino alla parola fine. La protagonista paradossalmente l'ho trovata leggermente egoista anche quando, verso la fine, confessa la sua colpa ad un uomo buono che forse non meritava un tale choc, capisco il suo bisogno di sfogarsi, di confidare a qualcuno il suo terribile segreto ma, a quel punto, quando ormai tutto era compiuto, lo avrei tenuto per me...
A little gem of a novel about scandal and shame as only Edith Wharton could dream up! Actually, this is the sort of situation Edith Wharton might have gotten herself into, so it probably didn’t take too much imagination. Kate Clephane has been exiled abroad after abandoning her husband and infant daughter years earlier. Now the daughter is grown up, engaged to be married, and wants to reunite with her mother. A crisis arises when Kate discovers that she knows her daughter’s fiancé a bit too well…..
Edith Wharton is seldom sympathetic to her female characters. Their problems can vary from imprudent, life-altering decisions, crippling regret, voluntary exile, genteel poverty, spurned love, social stigma, and moral guilt. In The Mother's Recompense, Kate Clephane lays claim to all of the above. Having impulsively abandoned her domineering husband John Clephane, their young daughter Anne, and a comfortable New York Fifth Avenue mansion eighteen years ago, Kate has since lived in aimless exile in Europe. The story begins with a telegram from Anne, asking Kate to return to New York, paving the way for a surprisingly warm, seamless, and uncomplicated reunion between mother and daughter, and a gradual, if guarded re-immersion into the society she rejected all those years ago. Just when she thinks her vapid, nomadic days are finally behind her, Kate's idyll is disrupted by a face from her past, a former love whom, if revealed, conventional society would only judge as another trivial indiscretion. At this point, only full disclosure can prevent a moral catastrophe, but at great cost to Anne, and even greater cost to the nurtured, thriving filial bond. By this time, it was impossible to put the book down, so obsessed was I to learn Kate's ultimate course of action. How can Kate, in her precarious capacity as newly-installed mother to a child who has since learned to live without one, address a sacrilegious complication so blithely handled by another fictional character in a similar situation, albeit some forty years later? (Here's to you, Mrs Robinson!)
Kate Clephane is not Wharton's most flawed character, that distinction goes to Undine Spragg of The Custom of the Country. But in an oeuvre fraught with miserable women (Countess Ellen Olenska, Lily Bart, Mattie Silver), Kate's profound burden is one I can identify with most, as a mother.
* Thankfully, this edition had no scholarly foreword, which usually takes away the plot's element of surprise. Instead there is a short, fascinating foreword by Marilyn French, who "suggests that the subject of the novel is Kate Clephane's 'Psychic imprisonment.'" French also brings up another fact: "Edith Wharton never had a child. Indeed, no major woman writer before our own age was a mother." Interesting.
This late novella kept my attention, with its intense look into Kate Clephane’s tortured and conflicted inner life, over her feelings about her former lover marrying her daughter. Her character is the one we get to know intimately, with others revolving around her, affecting her reactions. The plot line seems very soap-opera-ish, but is believable considering the mores of the time. I’m glad to find another Wharton that was new to me.
Pese a estar escrito por Edith Wharton tengo que decir que me pareció flojillo. La trama es muy insulsa y plana, podía dar mucho de sí y al final no pasó nada de lo que me imaginé. En cuanto a los personajes... los dos principales son madre e hija. A la hija no la soporté por intensita y ñoña y a la madre, aunque me gustó su complejidad y como estaba construida no la llegué a entender en varias de sus decisiones.
Es la historia de Kate, una mujer en la quinta década de la vida que vive en Europa con una dama de compañía. Un día recibe un telegrama donde su hija le pide que vaya a vivir con ella a Nueva York.
Kate se caso, tuvo una hija Anne, y huyó con su amante. Poco sabemos del pasado de Kate
Al regresar a Nueva York es aparentemente feliz con su hija o más bien con su recién descubierta maternidad
El problema inicia cuando Anne anuncia su compromiso con un hombre que no es del agrado de Kate
Porqué no es del agrado de Kate? Lo sabemos casi al final del libro y al menos a mi me ha parecido una exageración
Vaya personaje es Kate Clephane! Edith Wharton es magnífica para describir ambientes donde la felicidad es tan frágil.
"Al igual que todo el resto de gente que la rodeaba, él estaba atrapado en el incontenible fluir de la existencia, que a ella no se le antojaba un río poderoso que se dirige al mar, sino más bien una escalera mecánica que gira sobre sí misma."
Several topics concerning this novel (one can read the plot elsewhere) strike me immediately. First is the title, which looms largely over the book and helps to guide its winding plot. When Wharton uses the article “The” instead of “A,” it expands the meaning beyond just one mother’s struggle to make amends with her grown daughter whom she knows she has wronged (first for abandoning her as a child, an issue which is never fully addressed and second, for realizing that the man her daughter is about to marry is a cad with whom the mother has had an affair eight years earlier) to perhaps all mothers who have certain issues with their daughters. The word “recompense” itself, making amends for a wrongdoing, is yet another word that casts its ironic shadow. How does the mother in that post World War I period “make amends” for two such horrendous errors, one she can’t even tell her daughter about (and never does)? Seen through contemporary eyes, the problem does not seem as colossal, though it could prove embarrassing to say the least. Next, I admire Wharton for advancing the cause for the independent woman, yet I question how independent the protagonist really is. She often speaks of how lonely she is, and the relationship she develops with her daughter, after twenty years of neglect, seems superficial and fraught with problems of co-dependency. And perhaps that is Wharton’s aim: to demonstrate what a “cad” this mother herself may be, hoping to waltz back into her daughter’s life in such a facile manner and be forgiven so quickly for her sin of abandonment. Finally, it seems that Wharton nearly falls into the trap of creating too many coincidences or near misses or convenient disappearances of certain characters with simple explanations: very deus ex machina-ish (as when the young man’s mother becomes ill just at the point where he is about to marry). Yet I can see why the book was and may remain a popular novel. It certainly held my attention until the very end, when the mother remains true to her original intent, and escapes once again from her responsibilities.
Coming from someone whose guilty pleasure is watching soap operas or The Bachelorette...this book is a must read. Possibly the most scandalous book written in the early 1900s that I've ever read! . . Kate Clephane is living the life of an exiled socialite on the French Riviera when we meet her. But then a telegram comes that will alter the course of her life - the daughter she abandoned at infancy, now in her early 20s, has called her back to New York, and they have a second chance at the relationship they've both desperately missed. But soon enough a secret threatens to destroy their blossoming affection for each other - the only man who Kate has ever loved (and who broke her heart) is back in New York...and is engaged to none other than her daughter. The story that unfolds is gripping and heartbreaking, in typical Edith fashion. . . If you're not convinced about Edith Wharton yet, perhaps you should pick this one up.This is definitely one of her lesser known works, and I don't know why. It is excellent - equal to or better even, in my opinion, than Age of Innocence.
This novel was the first I have read by Edith Wharton. For some reason I had thought it would have the characteristics of a Victorian novel. But it was published in 1925 and felt much more like a work of modernism. The edition I read had an excellent introduction by Louis Auchincloss which helped me understand the motivations and actions of the main character, a woman who had abandoned her child and husband many years ago for another man and a life as an expatriot on the Riviera.
Actually when the book opens and she has returned to her family in New York it did have Victorian vibes. That gradually changed and the book ends with high drama and non-understandable actions and decisions made by the characters. I can understand why the book was criticized at the time of publication for having an unclear and unhappy ending! 2.5
The plot: daughter is (unwittingly) going to marry her mother's former lover. This is pretty extreme stuff for 1925, but what's even more extreme is the Introduction by Louise Auchincloss (which I'll get to in a minute.) The mother, when she discovers who her daughter has fallen in love with, is freaked, and does everything she can to prevent the marriage (short of telling her daughter, which, for complicated reasons, she feels she can't do). What further complicates the plot is that the mother, when she had her affair with this younger man, was clearly, madly in lust with him: the affair, from her perspective, was totally sexual. Wharton works this moral dilemma quite nicely, but then there's the introduction by Auchincloss where he says that the central problem of the novel is that the mother is "making too much of the circumstance" of her daughter marrying her ex-lover. He resorts to Eliot's objective correlative to try to account for her reaction. He writes: "the prospect of a sexual union" between her daughter and her ex-lover is not "sufficiently revolting to cause . . . [her] such trauma." Sure. Happens all the time. Just get over it. What's the big deal? But in the end, the daughter does marry him; the mother never tells, and the novel concludes on a rather sour note, with the mother on her own again, alone, back in Europe.
What a hauntingly beautiful novel! One cannot help but empathize with poor Kate Clephane and the life she has lived. After many, many years, Kate re-enters her, now adult, daughter's life, and the New York society she fled so long ago. The problem is that times have changed, and Kate does not well understand the social mores of the new age, her daughter's age, and this contributes to the moral dilemma she encounters.
The Mother's Recompense is vintage Wharton, and like much of her work, this novel contains an intriguing plot twist that I shan't give away. In my opinion, this novel highlights Wharton's assessment of the stark differences between the late-Victorian and Edwardian Eras and the early period of the Roaring-Twenties and its impact upon American upper class society. This was a Wharton novel that I'd not yet read, and I'm so glad that I have now!
He subrayado párrafos enteros porque no se pueden decir más verdades y porque no esperaba que una novela de época mostrara tan explícitamente a una protagonista dueña de sí misma (aunque ella crea que han sido los demás y su juicio los que han dictado su vida).
4.5/5. Se puede narrar una historia o se puede representar esta de forma tan exquisita que al leer las páginas solo puedas pensar '¡esto, esto!' a cada párrafo. Pues lo segundo.
Muszáj a LibriVox-szal kezdenem. Vannak azok a felolvasók, akik jók, de felejthetők. És vannak azok, akiknek már a hangjuk is egy kész személyiség. Anne Fletcher ilyen. Ennek vannak előnyei és hátrányai. De az, hogy főleg az anya szemszögéből kapjuk a történetet, és nem sokat szólal meg a lány, tökéletessé tette ezt a hölgyeményt felolvasónak. És persze alapjában határozta meg az olvasásélményt. A felolvasáson kívül önmagában is megállja a helyét a regény. A The Old Maid kisregényben egészen más aspektusból vizsgálta Wharton a társadalom és az anyaság kapcsolatát. Itt Kate oldalán éljük végig, ahogy visszamegy New Yorkba már felnőtt lánya kérésére, akit ~20 éve elhagyott még kisgyermekként. Már ez is sok felfedeznivalót kínál: hogyan viszonyul a lányához?, és a lány az anyjához?, a New York-i felső tízezer hogyan fogadja vissza ezt a nőt?, ki meddig bírja ezt a feszült helyzetet?. De Wharton megspékeli még egy kis izgalommal: ütközteti Kate-ben az anya és a nő szerepét. Ami úgy kifejezetten érdekes, hogy bár papíron 20+ éve anya Kate, a valóságban tapogatózik egy szokatan helyzetben, hogy ez a gyakorlatban és érzelmileg mit is jelent. A megvalósítás egy kicsit melodrámaibb, mint ideálisnak érzem, de ettől még nagyon élveztem.
4.5 Ya había leído Las costumbres nacionales de esta autora y me gustó, pero me quedé con ganas de más drama, personajes más locos y relaciones más toxicas. Esta historia me dio eso....solo en parte.
No es la historia alocada que yo estaba esperando, pero el drama fué muy divertido y acabó exactamente donde yo quería.
Eso si, durante la historia se hace alusión constante a un "secreto" y creo que todo el que lo lea debe bajar sus expectativas porque ni es un secreto, ni es tan grande como se hace ver. Si alguien espera una gran revelación al final se van a llevar una gran decepción porque no hay NADA. Dicho esto, yo lo disfruté de principio a fin incluso con el final tan anticlimático.
BookCrossing introduced me to Edith Wharton's books, first through a bookring (The Age of Innocence) and then through a wild catch (The Mother's Recompense) back in 2004. As a lover of old books, imagine how thrilled I was to find a 1925 copy with a BookCrossing label on it!
The Mother's Recompense is a story of mistakes and regrets. Kate Clephane lives in Europe in self imposed exile after a disastrous affair where she left her young husband and infant daughter home in New York. She lives a dull life on the French Rivera where the new scandals of her fellow ex-pats lets her forget her own transgressions.
Now twenty years later, her grown daughter calls her home to face the family, her memories and gives her a chance to start afresh as if nothing ever happened. Unfortunately her happy reunion is short lived as Anne, the daughter, announces her engagement to Kate's old lover.
The story sounds hokey but it's written with an unusual amount of frankness that one is drawn into Kate's world. The novel moves away from being just about Kate's mistakes but about her attempts at redemption and her desire to be a "good" mother to Anne.
While Wharton the narrator is frank with her audience about Kate's desires and transgressions, Kate finds herself incapable of admitting the truth to Anne both from an combined desire to protect her daughter and to avoid bringing further shame to the family.
The book has its flaws, mostly in its propensity for melodrama and sometimes Kate's indecision grows tiresome but overall I enjoyed The Mother's Recompense.
Not my favorite Wharton, but a fast, compelling read all the same. A woman who, in earlier years, deserted her husband and young daughter, finds her way back cleared by the passage of time and some convenient deaths. All is peachy until the mother finds her grown daughter attracted to man she herself has been involved with.
As a strong believer in the power of confession, I admit to impatience with secrets driving a plot, and I experienced irritation with Kate Clephane that approached Tess Durbeyfield proportions. Just say something, already! Daughter Anne was so earnest and intense that she needed a dose of truth.
Reaching the end of Wharton's major works, which is a bummer. At some point I may have to break down and read the short stories.
This is a pretty tame novel by Wharton standards (or by my idea of Wharton's stature and talent lead me to believe). There are places in the story where I see her groping for the sort of social complexity and conflicting codes of social conduct that marks her best works, but all of that in this book fails to come off. It is almost tiresome to read: I felt little for the protagonist's quandary (or perceived quandary) and became increasingly bored with her rationalizations and lack of self-knowledge. Aside from one very humorous line that occurs early in the novel, the only interesting thing is the final chapter's explicit revelation of Kate Clephane's motives for doing what she has done (and continues to do), and even that is more a curiosity than a compelling character study.
When picturing the details of my future, it most definitely includes a bookshelf with the full oeuvre of Edith Wharton. She never ceases to impress me, even with her non-stop unhappily ever afters.
This was juicy, well-written, gave yet another brilliant glimpse to a time, place, and society of a bygone era.
Poor, poor Kate. 130 pages in, she found out what we knew all along just by reading the back of the book. Her inner ramblings and fears and confusions spoke to me, big time. You couldn't help but feel for her.
Edith Wharton might have been the first woman to win the pulizter prize(for her book, AGE of Innocence), but if you're familiar with her works, (i.e. "House of Mirth,") her stories build up, climax, and then once everthing is about to end and come together as it should, she pulls a completely depressing 180!!!!! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...... The ending was not cool!!! IT almost made the whole story pointless if you ask me-
Another fantastic work by Wharton. It was not quite as emotionally stirring as The Age of Innocence nor as complex as the House of Mirth, but it packed with powerful and perceptive insights into human nature, love, and the weight that past mistakes place upon a person’s mind. As usual, though, Wharton does not provide a straightforward ending to the story that resolves the reader’s many emotions.