Henry Brooks Adams was a preeminent historian, great-grandson of John Adams, the second President of the United States of America, and grandson John Quincy Adams, the sixth President. He wrote only two novels – Democracy (1880) and Esther (1884) – the first of which was published anonymously (Adams was revealed as the author in 1909) and Esther under the nom de plume Frances Compton Snow. His reasons for doing so are not entirely clear, but perhaps he felt they might detract from his epic histories – the nine volume The History of the United States During the Administrations of Thomas Jefferson and James Madison 1801 – 1817 (1889 - 1891), the biographies The Life of Albert Gallatin (1879) and John Randolph (1882) and his other work collecting and collating material on New England Federalism (1877). What would the author of such austere histories be doing writing a frothy romance novel about a young woman falling for Episcopal minister?
Esther appeared in the Penguin Classics range relatively recently (2000) but has very quickly fallen out of print, perhaps an indicator of Adams’s obscure status in American letters. Very little of his work is available in commonplace editions, and though the majority of his work can be found between Project Gutenberg (whose text of Esther I used to review) and The Million Books Project, it is clear from download counters at the MBP that few people are interested in what Adams has to say. In conjunction with my reading of Esther I have been reviewing his History of the United States, and it is abundantly clear that Adams is a forgotten genius. His monumental History is a masterpiece of nineteenth century intellectual thought, unafraid to face up to the challenge of seeing the bigger picture of American development in the early part of that century. The chapters that deal with cultural and social life in the key American cities of the day are superlative and should be read by anybody with even a passing interest in this period of history. Through reading the History it is also clear that Adams has a novelist’s eye for the story, which makes his move to fiction unsurprising.
The publication of the anonymous Democracy became a publishing sensation, with many illegal copies of the novel being sold as people tried to work out the identity of the author and who the characters in the novels political scandal were based upon. Adams would later remark, ironically, “”The wholesale piracy of Democracy was the single real triumph of my life.”
When Esther appeared in 1884 there was nothing to connect Frances Compton Snow to either Democracy or Henry Adams, other than Adams resorts to satirical wit. Esther, as already noted, tells of one woman’s love for an Episcopal minister, Stephen Hazard. Adams decision to publish under a female nom de plume made Esther’s decisions in this novel seem all the more valid to contemporary readers.
When reading Esther today ones first thought is to those 1930s screwball romantic comedies of which this seems to be an antecedent. The plot line seems obvious, but it is the clash of personalities and opinions that will provide the tension. Esther is going to meet the handsome Hazard, they will fall quickly in love but obstacles will be placed in their way and at the end, after a pursuit, Esther will marry Hazard. And indeed they do meet, there are obstacles (of an intellectual and religious kind, but obstacles nevertheless), there is a pursuit from New York to Niagara, and at novels climax, as the waters of the Niagara tumble over the Falls, Henry Adams manages to confound all expectation with a last line of such devastating impact, that you are sure the power of has been felt all the way back to New York.
In the screwball comedies the obstacles would have been of a physical pratfall nature, but in Adams world they contain arguments about religion, science, art, and poetry. It is over art that Esther Dudley first truly becomes intimate with Stephen Hazard, as she is employed to paint a mural within the church. Along with her confidant, Catherine, a sassy southern woman who dreams of owning her own ranch in Colorado – and one you believe most certainly will for Adams seems adept at creating strong, confident women – they paint not iconography, but themselves and the men they love – Catherine with Wharton.
“By our lady of love!” said Wharton, with a start and a laugh; “now I see what mischief you three have been at!”
“The church would not have been complete without it,” said Esther timidly.
For several minutes Wharton looked in silence at the St. Cecilia and at the figure which now seemed its companion; then he said, turning away:
“I shall not be the first unworthy saint the church has canonized.”
Ch. 5
Even through their serious discussions there is the comedic undertow, always this urge from Adams to undermine his characters, afraid that without the gentle mocking their solemnity would become oppressive. Almost at the end of the novel does it become so:
Hazard’s solitary thoughts were not quite so pointless. The danger of disappointment and defeat roused in him the instinct of martyrdom. He was sure that all mankind would suffer if he failed to get the particular wife he wanted. “It is not a selfish struggle,” he thought.
“It is a human soul I am trying to save, and I will do it in the teeth of all the powers of darkness. If I can but set right this systematically misguided conscience, the task is done. It is the affair of a moment when once the light comes;–A flash! A miracle! If I cannot wield this fire from Heaven, I am unfit to touch it. Let it burn me up!”
Ch. 9
The one reason I can see for this novels lack of popularity is the long central argument in the middle where Esther and Hazard and others discuss religion and science, and where Adams’s agendas seems to subsume the story he is telling. There are, it has to be said, some erudite thoughts here, but they sit disconcertingly next to a dry wit of a story.
Along with fellow New York chronicler, Edith Wharton, Henry Adams is interested in the lives of women, particularly of independent women who buck the societal norm. Esther is a truly independent woman who refutes the status quo, and whose decision at the end of this novel will affect her totally. It is unclear whether Esther will find happiness in her decision, but she is willing to stand by her beliefs. She is a frighteningly real character, based upon Adams’s own wife, Marian, who just a year after the publication of this novel, committed suicide, following the death of her father.
After Esther and his personal loss, Henry Adams retired from novel writing. He took to travelling the world with his friend, the artist John La Farge, and Adams’s produced a few more works, histories and biographies mainly, published privately. His two final works, Mont-Saint-Michel and Chartres (1904) and The Education of Henry Adams (1907), for which he is now remembered. Both were published in the Penguin Classics series and will be reviewed shortly.